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aquilaofarkham · 3 years

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title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought.

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️ Thank you so much for commissioning me!

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There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity.

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.”

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician.

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

“I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough.

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Witness Protection - part 2

A/N: And here’s the conclusion (for now)! I didn’t do the reunion with the squad, but if anyone wants that, I could. Again, I split the story in two, so this takes place right after last part. Hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Tags: none

Words: 2716

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandblacktea @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner

There weren’t a whole lot of applicants—most people worked at the grocery store or in one of the other little shops in town. But Mike’s eyes lit up when one day, you came in, resumé in your hand.

“Hello! I hope you’re still looking for help? I’d like to apply,” you said, a bright smile on your face.

Mike grinned back, holding his hand out for your resumé. He scanned it quickly, noticing your name, the fact that you were close in age, and seeing that you’ve worked in customer service before.

“I am, yes. Tell me; do you know the difference between a mystery novel and a thriller?” he asked. He wasn’t going to throw you—or anyone—into that position like Gerry had to him. He’d vet you at least a little bit first.

You scrunched up your face as you thought about it, and Mike thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Well, I don’t have a dictionary definition for you, but in my opinion, mystery novels are more of a…whodunit. It’s the puzzles, the twists and turns until the villain is revealed at the end. Thriller is more…the game between the protagonist and villain. It focuses more on the tension, rather than figuring out who the killer is.”

Mike blinked in surprise. “That’s actually…you’re dead on. And seeing as you’re the only one who gave me a straight answer, I think you’re perfect for the job.”

“Wait, really?” you asked, your hopes soaring.

Mike nodded. “It’ll be working every day, but I’ll let you choose if you want morning or afternoon shift. Either way, I can only pay $15 an hour. If business keeps steady, though, I may be able to give you a raise down the line.”

“What’re the hours?” you queried. The pay would be fine for your little house. Plus, the owner was waaay too cute.

Mike blushed. “Right, that would be useful information, wouldn’t it?” You laughed and he chuckled. “Morning shift is 8am until 1pm. Afternoons are noon until 5pm. I don’t mind working either shift, so it’s entirely up to you and what you can do.”

“Mornings work perfectly fine for me,” you replied, smiling. You were an early bird, anyways.

Mike gave you another bright grin. “Excellent. Come back at 8am tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you the jobs the morning shift does. And welcome aboard.”

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

Hiring you turned out to be the best choice Mike could’ve made. You caught on quickly; by the second day, Mike didn’t even need to be there training you anymore. You were great with customers, quick with a joke, and were incredibly well-read. Like him, you often filled the empty time with reading. Though, it was less time than Mike had when working for Gerry; you had to make the coffee and tend to the bakery goods, rearranging them when things sold. And with the higher volume of people, books were left on shelves randomly, making you put them in their correct place.

But the best contribution you made was your own pastries. You told Mike you enjoyed baking, and you brought him in a cupcake one day. It was probably the best thing Mike had ever tasted in his life.

“…would you be willing to sell your confections here? I can’t give you extra time off, not unless I hire someone else. But we can have a limited amount, and once they sell out for the day, they’re out—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling. “Maybe not every day, but I usually make a batch of a dozen in my free time. I could always do two dozen, or a dozen of one thing, a dozen of something else.”

Mike nodded. “How about we start off slow, only selling things on Sunday? And if it turns out to be too much work for you, we can stop.”

“Sounds like a deal, boss man.”

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

Your Sunday Special Treats became so popular, that it was obvious one day wasn’t going to cut it. You’d open the store at 8am with two dozen cookies, and they’d be gone within an hour. It got to the point where you’d show up at your normal 7:30am, and there would be a crowd by the doors, eagerly asking which treats you brought in that day. After discussing with Mike, you agreed to bake for both Sunday and Wednesday, for a mid-week treat.

Mike even offered to come by your place after he closed the shop to help you bake, if you wanted another pair of hands.

“Just so you know, though, I’ve never baked a day in my life,” he said, chuckling.

But he was so damn cute, and you were kind of hoping for more than a work relationship with him. Which is why you replied, “I’d appreciate all the help I can get. I can teach you.”

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

It became a biweekly routine. Tuesday and Saturday nights, Mike would come to your place, around 6pm. You would be just starting baking, and he’d wash his hands before jumping in with you. At first, it was a struggle for him to figure out what to do with all the ingredients in front of you. You handwrote all your recipes—recipes passed down through generations of your family—and Mike followed them to the letter.

“The thing with baking, like cooking, you can add a little bit of this or that if it needs it, whether it’s in the recipe or not,” you told him one night.

He gave you a smirk. “But I don’t know when something needs a little this or that.”

“You’ll get it; you’re incredibly smart, Mike.”

He ducked his head, but you saw his cheeks turn a bright pink, a grin on his face.

Working so close together, not just baking, but in the bookstore as well, it was no shock that you fell head over heels for the sweet man. And it was no surprise when he fell just as hard for you. Both of you were afraid of the implications and the power play of Mike being your boss. But it never felt like a boss/employee relationship. It was always just…a partnership.

Eventually, you stopped eating dinner before he showed up, instead offering to make dinner for him. He stopped picking things up to eat on the way to your place, opting to have dinner with you, whether homemade or takeout, it didn’t matter.

One night, you were feeling playful, and you flicked flour into Mike’s face. He gave you a look of disbelief before breaking into a grin. He threw a pinch back into your face, and you let out a laugh so pure, it had Mike’s heart melting. He was leaning against the counter next to you, close enough that your clothes were touching. Your laughter came to an end, and you glanced into his face, smiling at the white powder on his nose and cheeks.

You couldn’t say who leaned in first, but soon enough, your lips were brushing against his before he pushed his more forcefully against yours. One of Mike’s hands went to cup the back of your head, and you grabbed his shirt, holding him to you.

Suddenly, the timer dinged loudly, and you gently pulled away from him, giving him a small smile before going to pull the brownies from the oven. You didn’t mind being interrupted, though; it was the first kiss of many that you would share with Mike Jones.

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

It was like you were both on the fast track in your relationship. You dated for only a few months before you found a house together. You both ran the shop, Mike raising your pay—while cutting his—until you were equal. And you never thought you could be more in love with someone in your life.

One day, Mike told you that he wanted the shop closed on the next Saturday. When you asked why, he said that he needed to have an important talk with you on Friday night, and that he wanted a free day afterwards; so that you didn’t have to be in bed early, and you had time to process things. He had seemed nervous, and it wasn’t the first time it felt like there was something on his mind while he was with you.

You were slightly worried, but also excited; was he going to propose? You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you had no other explanation to what this talk could be.

Mike came home after closing the shop on Friday evening, carrying takeout in a plastic bag. You greeted him with a kiss, and he gave you a smile. But you could see the nerves and concern in his eyes. After scooping food into a bowl, you both sat at the dining table in the kitchen.

“What I have to say isn’t…easy. And I must stress that it doesn’t leave this house, ever,” he started.

You nodded. “Whatever it is, I’m sure nothing will change, Mike.”

He sighed, closing his eyes. “My last name isn’t Jones. It’s Dodds.”

“What? All this is about a name change—”

“It’s more than that. I—I’m in witness protection.”

You sat there, stunned into silence as Mike gave you his entire life story. He gave you every little detail about himself, about growing up in New York City, about his overbearing father and his career in the Army, boxing, and the NYPD. He told you about his parent’s divorce, about his brother’s drug problems. He told you about his fiancée, about how the hit out on him was probably one of the best things that ever happened to him.

“I miss my family and squad, will always miss them. But until the Western Italian Mafia is dealt with, I can’t go home. And that syndicate is huge; I doubt I ever could go home.” He let out a small chuckle. “After meeting you, though, I don’t know if I want to go home, either.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “Why did you tell me all this?” you muttered, conscious of how loud you were talking. “Aren’t you supposed to keep it secret?”

“Technically, yes. Only the FBI and that doctor who pronounced me dead knows. But I…I couldn’t give you all of myself until I gave you, well, all of myself,” he explained, his expression pleading.

You felt goosebumps on your arms. “You really trust me that much?”

“Darling,” he said, shaking his head. He took your hands in his. “I trust you with my life. You’re it, the end game for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tears sprung up in your eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Mike Jones, or Dodds, or anything! I love you, and only you. I want to grow old with you, too.”

The widest grin stretched across his face before he got up from his chair. He came around the table and kneeled in front of you, releasing your hands to cup your face. He used his thumbs to brush the tears from your face before pulling you to him in a kiss full of love and passion.

You leaned back slightly. “You’re safe here in California, right?”

“I should be, yes.”

You nodded. “Good, because I don’t want to lose you. And I’d fight a mafia for you.”

Mike huffed out a laugh, and you tugged him back in for another kiss.

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

Something that Mike learned a few months later was that his driver’s license and birth certificate were enough of an ID to get married. It was a small ceremony, just you, Mike, and your parents. You both agreed that Mike’s parents had both already passed, and he was an only child. Mike got to wear a tuxedo once more, and he dimly thought about what it would’ve been like to marry Alice back in Manhattan. But then he saw you in your simple dress, and those thoughts faded away. He had never been happier as he stood next to you, signing the marriage license, then bringing you in for a tender kiss. For legal reasons, you decided to keep your last name, but that didn’t stop him from calling you Mrs. Jones, or wifey.

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

It took only a month after your wedding for you to wind up pregnant. Both you and Mike were over the moon with excitement and joy. He built the nursery in your home while you made a list of baby names. You were set to have a little boy, and Mike’s only contribution was to veto William and Matthew.

“I don’t want to think about my old family—” he started, but you held up a hand.

“I understand. But what about as a middle name?”

He thought about it. “I guess that’s okay…. Have you chosen a first name yet?”

You smiled softly. “I’m thinking about my father’s name, Phillip. What do you think?”

“I like it. Which do you like more; Phillip William, or Phillip Matthew?” For the same legal reasons, Phillip would have your last name, rather than Mike’s fake one.

You gave him a look. “I chose the first name; this one is on you. Besides, I like them both.”

“You’re a lot of help,” Mike teased, chuckling.

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

Eight months later, Phillip Matthew was born, happy and healthy. He was absolutely perfect, and neither you nor Mike could be prouder or more in love with him. Of course, you both had closed the bookstore for a week while you were in labor and afterwards, both of you doting on your newborn. And when Mike went back to work, it was for limited hours. The town was understanding, almost overtly so.

In fact, you never had to buy diapers—at least for the first few months. Your neighbors gifted you diapers, clothes, food, anything you could happen to need. The bookstore’s hours change to 8am until noon. Then it closed for an hour and reopened until 5pm. Mike worked mornings now; you were busy with Phillip and pumping milk for the afternoon. Then he’d come home, and you’d eat lunch together before you went to the bookstore, leaving Mike to watch and play with Phillip. It was a perfect arrangement, and you were both happy and in love.

Time seemed to fly by; soon enough, Phillip was crawling, then standing, then walking. He was a Daddy’s boy through and through, always following him around the house. His first word was “dada,” and Mike started taking Phillip with him on his evening jogs—he didn’t take morning jogs anymore, instead wanting to spend his mornings with you and Phillip. And when Phillip saw Mike working out, he would attempt to copy him, much to your amusement and worry.

One day, Mike was doing pushups in the living room, and Phillip couldn’t look away. He was still just under two-years-old, and he got down on his knees. You came into the room just in time to watch Phillip, on hands and knees, slam his face into the ground in an attempt at a pushup. You gasped and went to make sure he was alright, but Mike held up a hand, watching his son intently. Instead of crying, Phillip looked up at his father, waiting for praise.

“That was great, Phil. But try not to hit your head on the ground,” Mike said slowly, as if Phillip would understand what he was saying.

Mike got back in a pushup position, and Phillip followed. “Watch me, big guy,” he muttered, slowly going down to the ground. Phillip mimicked, eyes wide and locked on his dad’s grinning face. And when he pushed back up to his knees, Mike’s smile grew.

“Honey, did you see that?! Our little man did a pushup!” Mike announced, moving to sit and pulling Phillip into his lap, hugging him and murmuring encouragement.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I can’t believe you’re having him do pushups with you. You’re going to make him a bodybuilder by five!”

Mike guffawed, picturing it. “Nah—I can get him there by age three.”

You grinned, gazing at your happy family while Mike rolled onto his back, holding Phillip at arm’s length above him.

#mike dodds x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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another-fantasy-world · 3 years

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Strings Pt. 2

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Fem!OC

Summary: in which the true queen of vampires found love when she least expected.

Warnings: ...Light Angst? Slowburn and mentions of death,trauma and depression

Timeline: Breaking Dawn - Post-Twilight

Word count: 4, 200 words

!Extra long chapter!

GIF isn’t mine

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The witch couple somehow got Rosalie to agree to their terms, much to her distaste. She still doesn’t know what it is that irks her about the couple, she does not trust them, at all but, she trusts Carlisle. Plus, right now, they have more important matters to attend to.

Various thoughts run through Rosalie’s head, as she stands in the vast snow covered field. She may not show it, but she worries for her adoptive sister as Alice strides through the field handing Aro her hand for him to go through her thoughts and visions.

“Now you know. That’s your future, unless you decide on another course.” Alice states when Aro dropped her hand in shock

Rosalie stands rigid, observing silently as she glares and snarls at their “Royalty”, eyes pitch black. She knows in herself that she would do everything for her family, even if it costs her, her life. She stands there, watching as another hybrid walks into the field, she watches as they question him, She watches as Bella sags slightly in relief knowing that Renesmee is immortal and finally, she smiles knowing that they’ve won as the red-coated vampires blurs into the distance.

Joyous screams of victory rips through the air as she joins her family as they rejoice, happy that they did not have to fight the Volturi today. Together, they walk back to their house where their witnesses say their farewells and leaving.

“We won!” Maggie squeals are she rushed into Rosalie’s arms with Emmett trailing behind her

“Yeah, Yeah. Now I have to suffer an immortal life with the smell of wet dog wafting through the air.” Rosalie smirks

“Hey! I heard that!” Jacob complains

“Tsk. You were supposed to.” She retorts as she walks to Carlisle who was holding Esme in his arms.

But as she was walking, she was suddenly thrown into a void, cold, dark, and starry? She was confused as she looks around, panicking when she couldn’t move.

“What the fuck is going on?!” She tries to move her body but she couldn't, she then feels her body get thrown around like a rag doll.

“This is worse than being forced to ride that death machine. What was is called? Rollie? Roller coaster?” She grumbles in her head as she wills herself to not puke. She didn't even think vampires could still be nauseous.

That went on for what seemed to be hours before she was finally dropped into the ground. Opening her golden eyes, her orbs seemed to hyper focus on the gigantic trees and the creatures that live in it. Her ears then pick up the sound of groaning, turning her head, she sees the rest of her family sprawled all over the forest floor.

“Oh my God! Amore! You didn't have to paralyze them that hard!” Veronica thumps Amore in the head.

“I sincerely apologize for what she has done. We needed to take you far away from Forks, The Volturi Coven changed their minds and decided to ambush you and your witnesses. Fear not, your witnesses have been teleported to their homes safe and sound.” Veronica explains while still glaring at the pouting Amore.

“What was that anyways?” Edward groans as he sits up'

“Teleportation. I needed to paralyze you, that lowers the chance of you losing a limb.” Amore explains while Veronica cast a cloud of blue upon them, seemingly healing their “injuries”

“Cooooool. Can we do it again?” Emmett brightens like a child getting a puppy for the first time.

“No.” They all deadpanned at him making Veronica and Amore chuckle.

“Well, I suggest we get going now, even with our speed, it's still a long way to run.” Veronica dusts herself off as she and Amore help the family up and the still dazed shifters.

“Long way to run where?” Jacob asks, utterly confused.

“To the palace of course.” Veronica smiles

“It's high time you guys meet the Queen.” Amore smirks and winks as she speeds off, followed by Veronica then the Cullens and then the Black Pack.

Anastasia pinched her temples in pure stress, the Cullens were coming to visit and everything was in utter chaos. Mud was smeared all over the walls, broken dishes and glass cluttered the floor as little children run past her, screaming her ears off.

“Lance, darling. Clean this up before I rip someone's head off. Make sure this place is spotless before the guests arrive. Get the pups back to their mothers, the children back to the village and contact Maxine, there's a few shifters accompanying the Cullens. I'll be in my lab.” She orders her personal butler who scrambles around trying to get people to help him.

Anastasia ventures down, down until she reaches her own personal laboratory where she herself develops her own type of blood. She's repulsed by the thought of drinking from a clueless human no matter how annoying they are and disgusted at the thought of killing an innocent animal just so she could satiate her desire of drinking blood. And because of this artificial blood, her eyes slowly turn into the rich dark violet that it is now.

As she works, combining different substances and powders that vary colors, her mind drifts to a certain blonde girl. Anastasia for the life of her, cannot even think of what she would do where she faces the blonde beauty, not when her heart if filled with guilt.

1932 Rochester, New York

Anastasia roamed the streets as she keeps her eyes trained on the single glowing golden string attached to her, amongst the other colors. She was born this way, even when she was just a little human, she could always see strings. Of course her feeble mind at that time didn't understand what it was, but now she could. As a vampire, she practiced and willed her strings to be more color coded, since the mere chaos of tangled strings give her a headache. The strings connected each creature in this world, once you make an acquaintance, a blue string connects the two of you and that soon escalates into different colors, However, one color lets her see soulmates, and that's green, which is why she's now following this glowing gold string to wherever it may go. She was tempted to just yank the string as hard as she could and let the creature on the other side find her but somehow, something was holding her back.

As she walked the streets of New York, head held high, she also ignored the stares that she got while walking. She knew why of course, her Italian clothing much different from the posh American clothing everyone around her has, not to mention she was wearing clothes meant for “men” but she never was the one to abide to gender constructs. She also couldn't, for the life of her, think about what she would do when she meets the creature on the other end of the string. Should she kill it? Should she keep it? Should she protect it? Should she-

Her thoughts were then interrupted when her eyes suddenly tunnel visioned. There 'it' was, the 'creature' on the other end of her string, 'it' was actually a woman. An insanely attractive human, being fawned over by boys as she walks by and she was smiling at the small group girls crowding her. Anastasia could suddenly feel the emotions of the said woman: Happiness, Pride, and a little twinge of loneliness and sadness. Anastasia's heart (despite being half-dead) tightened in her chest, she wanted to do everything and anything to make the woman happy. She didn't even care that she just saw her mere minutes ago, she wanted her and only her. And that's when she realized, this woman, no, this angel was meant to be hers. But then again, Anastasia knew that the woman was too good for her, she doesn't deserve this life of pain and eternal suffering, seeing the people you once loved grow old and eventually die, yet she also knew that she cannot live without her, so she settled with being her protector.

“Mr. Lombardi? Did I pronounce that right?” Mr. Hale questioned her, she had managed to manipulate her looks to make her look like a man.

“Yes sir.” Anastasia answered, she named herself Gioele for the sake of her facade.

“And why should I let you protect my daughter?” Mr. Hale raised his eyebrows, staring at the 'guy' infront of him.

“With The Great Depression still happening, I believe your daughter might be in danger. You and your success may make you a target for those who are below you, poor unfortunate...” She trailed off, her moral compass preventing her from saying derogatory words but she knew she had to play by his personality and rules

“We do not talk about them.” Mr. Hale deadpanned

“Yes sir.” 'Gioele' agreed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Very well then. You have piqued my interest. One wrong move and you'll find yourself hanging on a rope by your neck.” He threatened just as someone entered.

“Father? Mother requested your presence.” Anastasia's eyes widen when she hears the soft, melodic voice right behind her.

“Rosalie! Perfect timing. This is Gioele Lombardi, he will be protecting you from those awful lowlifes scattered around the streets.” Mr. Hale introduces Anastasia to Rosalie who in turn looked at her.

“Rosalie. Rosalie Hale.” She introduces her self while Anastasia promply goes down on one knee and kisses her hand.

“My Pleasure.” She smiled, seeing the faint blush on Rosalie's cheeks.

Anastasia stood up, offering her arm to Rosalie who accepted and they both followed Mr. Hale outside, Anastasia holding up an umbrella to shield Rosalie and herself from the sun. She didn't sparkle as much as other vampires do but it would have been really suspicious when people see her faint sparkle as her marble like skin hits the rays of the sun.

And in that afternoon alone, Rosalie Hale became more popular, people talked about the attractive guard and of course Rosalie's beauty. Anastasia was annoyed at how people spoke about her and her mate, while they were walking around the city. Rosalie noticed and distracted her by asking her questions and answering questions directed to her as well.

Anastasia just felt herself fall even more as days pass by, She would sit by Rosalie's side while she reads her books, She would accompany her on walks and would help her pick flowers as well. She knew all about Rosalie but Rosalie only knew things Anastasia want her to, that doesn't include the fact that she's a woman and not a man and also the fact that she's an actual vampire. And that proved to be in her disadvantage later on.

A year pass by quickly with Anastasia enjoying every single second she spends with her soulmate, she could feel Rosalie radiating happiness whenever she's around, but of course, Rosalie was getting suspicious as well. It may be because of that one time where they were caught in the rain and their umbrella was much too small for 2 persons so Anastasia insist on Rosalie using it, leaving her wet, making her clothes stick to her body, and even under the dim light, Rosalie could make out a feminine body, toned but still feminine and that left her thinking if she truly knew her guard as well as she thought she did.

One day, Rosalie was sent on an errand to deliver her father's 'forgotten' lunch, and Anastasia knew it was a bunch of shit. She heard the couple discussing their plans to hopefully attract the attention of Royce King II and they succeeded, she had to watch as Rosalie and Royce flirt with each other, with her silently seething, forgotten. She had to hide her growls and snarls whenever flowers would be delivered at the Hale Household, but she couldn't do anything, Rosalie deserved someone who could grow old with her, and not a half-ling abomination like her. So she accepted the fate she wished upon herself and made the hardest decision of her life.

The day Rosalie was engaged, she packed her bags and set to leave but unfortunately, Rosalie caught her. And what she did that day, she still regrets up until now.

“Gioele? You are leaving.” Rosalie states, stunned.

“Don't. Don't stop me Ms. Hale. Or should I say Mrs. King?” Anastasia spat out, and she internally flinched when she saw the pain in Rosalie's eyes.

“Where did this come from Gio?” Gio, Rosalie's nickname for her alter ego. She couldn't handle it anymore and looked around before gently dragging Rosalie into an empty room in their house.

“Look, my name's not Gioele.” Anastasia removes the glamour she placed on herself and watched as Rosalie stare at her in shock.

“It's Anastasia. And yes. I am leaving. You are to be married to Royce King II and I cannot get in between that.” She stares at Rosalie's eyes, hoping to relay her feelings, but Rosalie was still much too hurt from her best friend lying to her.

“You lied. You broke two of your promises Lombardi. Is that even your real surname? It is not, is it? God. Why must I be so stupid! Go! Leave! Find some other woman to lie to!” Rosalie walks away from her

“Rosalie! Wait!” She tried to chase after her but Rosalie just turned around and slapped her, she was shocked, not only because the love of her life slapped her, it's also because Rosalie managed to crack the base of her neck. She lifted her hand to cover the cracks that were covering the base of her marble like neck.

“Rose...” She stared at Rosalie.

“Leave.” Rosalie glared, and Anastasia knew that this was her chance... to let go of her soulmate... in the most painful way possible.

“Fine...” She growled out “...I never liked you anyways, You self-centered, smug woman who only lives to please her father and the people around you. I hope you and your cold heart enjoy your loveless marriage!” She grabs her bags and walks away, not bothering to turn back, knowing that if she sees Rosalie's face and the raw emotions in her eyes, she'll just turn back and beg for forgiveness.

But of course, she couldn't stay away, no matter how hard she tried, she just can't so she lingered, hiding herself in the shadows, watching as Rosalie walked the paths they used to walk on, with Royce accompanying her, his arm hooked on hers as they chatted happily. It took everything in Anastasia to not rip off Royce's head whenever she knew he was making Rosalie uncomfortable and It took everything in her to not steal Rosalie away from him.

She was lingering around Vera's house, Rosalie was in there, cradling the baby boy in her arms as she cooed at him. Anastasia smiled as she saw her mate being all cute, she longed to have that with her, but alas she couldn't.

She was just enjoying herself when suddenly a body slammed into her, they fought for the upper hand as they kept tumbling around. Anastasia would straddle the man and he would flip her as well, she knew he was a vampire and didn't bother to pull her punches, cracking his marble like skin while he, in turn would also punch her face. The only difference they had was, Anastasia is actually bleeding. After what went on like hours, something snapped, Anastasia knew something was wrong with her mate so her eyes glowed a bright red, she threw the man off her and tied him with her strings. She growled at him before speeding off, following the slowly fading golden string. She ran as fast as she could, but she was too late.

“Rose?” she stared in horror as the body of her beloved, sprawled on the sidewalk, bleeding out.

“Stasia?” She turned her head and saw Carlisle standing behind her.

“Carlisle! I beg of you, Please save her. Turn her Carlisle please!” Anastasia begged Carlisle

“What happened? I smelt the blood.” Carlisle knelt beside the barely alive Rosalie.

“Turn her first then I'll explain.” Anastasia choked out as she closed her eyes just in time for Carlisle's teeth sinking into Rosalie's skin

She shook with anger and decided that she'll chase after whoever did this to her, her ears hyper focused, trying to find whoever did it. And that's when she heard it: Royce King II.

“I need to find a new fiancee now.” He laughed as his friends expressed their joy in letting them-

Anastasia let out a loud guttural growl as she prepared to speed away but Carlisle held her back.

“Don't. She needs you first.” Carlisle motioned to Rosalie who's writhing in pain. She immediately scooped her mate into her arms and followed Carlisle's mate string, which led her to a two floor house, she barged in with Carlisle hot on her heels.

“Lay her here.” He instructed the distressed Queen.

“Will she be okay Carlisle?” She asked the doctor as he kissed his mate in her forehead.

“Yes. Give it a couple of days, Your Highness.” Carlisle reassured her as she swallowed back her sobs.

“Very well. Uh. My apologies, I barged in without your permission. My name is Anastasia. You must be Carlisle's lover?” She offered her hand to the older woman who in turn just gave her a hug.

“It's fine. Really. You are welcome here. Carlisle told me all about you.” Esme smiled and Anastasia just smirked at Carlisle.

“Still thinking about me Cullen?” Anastasia teased, taking Rosalie's hand into hers and gripping it, calming her nerves.

“He talks about you everyday.” Esme smiled at her.

Anastasia was about to reply when the doors opened and in came...

“You.” Anastasia growled and lunged at the man. He dodged but she caught his arm and used her momentum to flip him over, throwing him through the wall and into the backyard, making him land flat on his back. The man coughed as Anastasia straddled him, planting her foot to the ground, her strings glowing a bright red as they wrap around him as she slowly ripped his head off.

“Anastasia! He's my son!” Carlisle cried out as Anastasia snapped at him, eyes widening in surprise.

“He's yours?” Anastasia's eyes glowed a bright red and Carlisle felt his entire body shiver.

“Y-Yes.” Carlisle stuttered, the murderous aura surrounding Anastasia triggering his fight or flight.

“He is the reason why I didn't get to my mate fast enough. He lunged at me for no reason, leaving my mate in a vulnerable position AND LOOK WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW! SHE'S FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE CARLISLE!” Anastasia's body shook in anger

Carlisle could see the cracks growing on Edward's skin, and he slowly approached the furious queen. He managed to calm Anastasia down by sending calming waves into his strings, decades of working alongside the queen was proven to be useful in this moment. The ropes that were once wrapped around Edward slowly loosened until they retreated back into her body.

Edward wheezed as he moved away from her while Anastasia composed herself.

“Teach your son better manner s, Carlisle or the next time we meet, you'll see his decapitated head decorating the Volturi Walls.” Anastasia threatened as she walks calmly back into the house through the wall that she made and sat beside her unconscious mate. She noticed the golden string slowly go back to it's natural glow, which made her sigh in relief.

A couple of hours pass by and Anastasia was feeling hungry, she asked for Carlisle's help in looking for food in the forest and he told her where the majority of the animals lived and she set off. While she was hunting, she couldn't help but feel like she failed Rosalie. She let her become something that she protected her from. A Vampire.

Once she had her fill, she slowly walked back to where Carlisle lives, delaying her arrival as much as possible, dreading the fact that she knew Rosalie was awake. She could feel it. She took a deep breath and opened the door, making everyone's head snap towards her. Her eyes caught Rosalie's and instantly, they connected, more so than before, which means that Anastasia feels what Rosalie feels 100 times more than before. Pain, Sadness, Longing and Hatred. And that's when she knew, she knew that Rosalie hated her. Her soulmate hated her. The thought weighed on top of her, slowly crushing her heart, she physically gasped for breath as she could feel Rosalie's anger increased tenfold.

“Rose. Let me-”

“Don't Anastasia. Do what you do best, leave.” Rosalie answered her, putting emphasis on her real name. She tried to move closer but Rosalie only moved and sped out of the house, with Carlisle trailing after the newborn.

She was about to follow as well when Edward stopped her.

“I apologize for my actions earlier, I truly believed that you were preying on them, that's why I attacked you, but you should really trust me when I say that you shouldn't follow her. She's angry.” Edward quickly explained

“And how do you know that?” She asked.

“I can read minds.” Edward simply states, nodding at her.

Anastasia nodded, defeated and sat on a chair with Esme right beside her.

“Give her some time.” Esme advises, rubbing the girl's back.

She gritted her teeth when she felt Rosalie's pain. Not physical, emotional. And she has the power to take it away. But with a great price. A price she was willing to take.

When the Cullen family was complete, with Rosalie, Anastasia quickly worked her gift. Wrapping her strings around them and re-writing their memories, without her in it. Except for Carlisle's, she left some memories of him working alongside her while in the Volturi. Once she finished, she quickly speeds away and forces herself to leave the memories and pain she just took into the back of her mind as she wiped her bleeding nose, her body collapsing under a big tree due to the exhaustion.

She was pulled back into reality when the beaker she was holding in her hand exploded, drenching her in artificial blood. She gritted her teeth, there were two things that could've happened. One, she mixed the wrong chemicals while day dreaming or two, Amore decided to switch the labels again.

She checked everything, and then found out the second one was the truth, she stormed out of her lab, blood dripping from every inch of her body. Her annoyance clouded her brain, forgetting that she sent Amore to pick up the Cullens and if she was here, then so were The Cullens.

She spotted Amore from afar and sped towards her, slamming her against the brick walls of her “castle” . She hated that term.

“What did I tell you about switching my labels Lewis?! Look at me! Blood is in every crevice in my body! There's blood in parts that I didn't even knew were exposed!” She growled out

“Well, to be f-fair, You aren't wearing your usual lab attire so that's partially your fault.” Amore choked out. Anastasia just growls in response.

“Stasia, calm yourself. First impressions are important.” Veronica waves her hand and Anastasia's clothes were back to normal, dry and there was no trace of blood anywhere.

First Impressions? Anastasia then mentally facepalmed herself. She had forgotten the Cullen Family. She releases Amore, then turned to the family, recalling her speech, she started to talk.

“Hello. Sorry you had to see that, but you should really get used to it. My name is Anastasia...” She drifted off as her violet orbs met golden ones. In her brief moment of surprise, she unknowingly let down her guard, causing her previously cast spell break. She knew that her mate would be there and she mentally prepared herself but turns out, she wasn’t prepared at all. When she recovered from her shock, she could feel that her spell had been broken. The entire coven looked at her with various emotions: Happiness, Confusion, Longing and Familiarity. She may or may not have met all the members before and also wiped their memories.

“Gio...” Rosalie whispered.

“Shit...” Anastasia cursed, she somehow knew this would happen, just not this soon.

“Rose...” She stared at her mate for what seemed like years before Rosalie glared at her with so much anger she didn't know it was possible, and stormed off. Again.

'She always does that.' Anastasia sighs.

“Well, that secret's out. I'll escort you to you ro-”

“We'll do it. Chase after her.” Veronica pats her back before escorting the Family to their respective chambers, but Carlisle stayed behind.

“That... was messed up Anastasiarine.” Carlisle expressed his disappointment before pulling the girl in a brief hug.

“I missed you too Cullen.” She whispered before letting go to chase after her mate.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me.” She sent that thought to the Cullen Family, including Rosalie and went back to what she did 75 years ago.

She was once again, chasing the glowing gold string.

#rosalie hale #rosalie hale x oc #jasper hale x alice cullen #edward cullen x bella swan #carlisle x esme #olympic coven #cullen clan #the cullens #cullen family #the volturi #rosalie cullen #rosalie hale x fem oc #platonic carlisle x oc #The Cullens x OC #The Volturi x OC #rosalie twilight #rosalie #rosalie hale x reader #rosalie lillian hale

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voidcat · 3 years

Text

– a case of bad luck

1. spoke too soon

m.list ; prev ; next ; wc:1.7k

a/n: i’m trying to write one chapter ahead to have a little schedule in the near future so there’s that. there are no songs for this chapter. and i still hate writing dialogues + action based scenes. Oh and I don’t proof read so I may forget to type some verbs once in a while.

a/n 2: I know the title says “1” but this is actually the second chapter!!! ch1 is numbered “0”. This chapter probably doenst make much sense w/o its buildup

Crouching down to check on the boy, the one with bandages get up, his gaze directed at you. Like the boy, he seems young too, not any older than you most likely, but something about the way he holds himself contradicts what’s expected of someone in his age.

“Even Rashoumon is cast asleep before he got the chance to attack.” He leans in to touch his wrist and lets out a small hum at the lack of reaction on the boy’s part.

“Now let’s see how you got here.” And you take it as your cue, going back all the way you got through leaves a stale taste in your mouth, a feeble defeat, but your gut tells you to wait and talking like you did with the others will only make it worse with him.

Climbing all the way back, this time without being pushed by someone, feels like a walk of shame on itself. There really isn’t much to stop you from turning and running away. From the looks of it, the boy down by the door will be staying like that for another hour. And really, what can a possibly 18 year old boy do to you in the dead of the dark? A part of your brain screams at you. You didn’t spot any guns on him either nor any movement on his part, a hand at ready to draw out a weapon. And yet from the way he talks, looks around and talks, he is off. Everything about him is off and your brain keeps screaming ‘danger! Danger! Danger! Run for your life! Or die in the process.’

And he is awfully calm the whole way up, first coming behind you, probably a measure to make sure you won’t try to get away and by the time you reach the floor, he steps ahead, walk directly to the door you exited moments, maybe half an hour, ago as if he placed it there. Creaking it open and leaning in slightly, he examines for a second.

Then he pulls back and flashes a smile “Now go on, let’s see what you’ve created!” he says, tilting his head towards the door.

The sight of him is more unnerving with a smile.

Ambling to where he stands, you hear someone clearing their throat.

“Who were they?” you ask as you step inside, gaze locked onto him as he follows.

“Some small gang in the area, probably getting high schoolers involved with drugs.” He shrugs. Hah, it’s almost silly to have a somewhat victory in whatever you found yourself in but you want to smile at it anyway, look him in the eye and go ‘I knew it, I was right all along!’

The smile dies before it can make way to your face as you see his disfigured body cast aside, the other men laying around the room, all discarded as mere trash bags.

The smell of reaches you again, this time it’s worse, like a rock just fell right into your stomach.

The bandaged up boy squatting in the middle of the room, probably observing one of the men as you stare at the boy you saw several times before. When did they do this to him, what did they do, was the same going to happen to you-

The dizziness comes again and you take a step back to regain your composure. The bandages stand up then, you try to make something out of his expression but you can’t drag your eyes off what has become of that man.

If you were to ask another question, your words would die on the way out.

“Not sure.” He says, as if he hears the unspoken ‘what happened to him?’ in your eyes.

“It looks like his insides were carved out, not something that could be done without making a mess or cutting him out.” He sounds exactly as you first heard him. With nothing in his voice, not a part of identity or emotion. Like he’s just commenting on the quality of a food he has been served or a project he’s been presented.

“Which bears the question… aside from the obvious ‘what is your ability?’. What did you say to him exactly to create quite the work?”

Another step back.

You’re closer to the door, it’s unlocked and standart. The other boy still must be unconscious but can you make a run for it? Or does he have some inhuman power to get to you quick, maybe speed or teleportation, maybe something to grant control over you or objects around you.

Running away doesn’t seem to be a good option, when you’re unfamiliar with the area, not to mention it’s nighttime. But staying with whoever this is seems a lot worse.

The previous men were simple, easy to predict, open; but he is cautious, vary of his surroundings and it’s that smile that keeps popping up on him that creeps you out. You don’t want to imagine what might happen at the hands of him, especially if you try and get caught eventually.

The tapping brings you back, his foot this time, and he scrunches his nose. He asked a question after all.

“What do you mean ‘ability’?” you pronounce the last word as if it’s foreign. That only seems to annoy him apparently.

“Your ability! The thing you used to make-“ he turns sideways to show him with his hand “-this! And possibly to get out of here as well. This might be a low type gang but it’s not possible to make it out alive,-“ he takes a step toward you “-without a scratch,” another step in, you take one back, “-while everyone else is dead and a guy’s insides out like a carved pumpkin.” His voice drops with each word.

Another step in and he’s standing right in front of you, too close, his height over you makes the screaming inside your head worse, everything about him screams ‘red!’ now.

“So tell me again,” he nods with his head to where that guy was sitting hours ago, “was it the tragic death of your boyfriend that drove you to this?”

“he is not my boyfriend.” You whisper.

“was it witnessing his torture that did it?” his tone changes.

“I didn’t even know his name.” you look away.

“what was his last words? Maybe a declaration of love? Maybe a fight beforehand and his words were an apology for that? Maybe it was not proclaimed until now, wouldn’t that make things sad?” The more he adds on, the chirpier he sounds, almost enjoying this, ignoring each of your denials -maybe not even hearing them, too caught up in the story he fabricated.

“I didn’t know him!” You tell before he can continue his rambling. Eyelids halfway down, he looks down at you.

“No wonder you saved your own skin.” The coldness comes back.

Turning away, he walks toward the pile of red again “but it doesn’t explain how-“ he grabs something in the shape of a stick, “you managed to pull this off.” He punctuates as he raises what you assume is a part of the intestines with the stick.

“I told you, I don’t know. I fell asleep by the time they started questioning him and that was it.”

Throwing another glance at you, pitiful maybe?, he takes off to a table with stack of papers spread around.

“Here, they have information on your boyfriend. I’m assuming you attend the same school- someone has been studying.” Throwing the papers back, he strolls to you.

“It won’t take long to get information on you. You probably live on the opposite side of the city. With parents, I assume.” He leans in, “-a pet, maybe few? And a little poking around would provide enough on your parents and friends as well. But we wouldn’t want that.”

Raising his hand to your face, an arrogant smile takes place.

“And I’m sure you’d not want to see what my subordinate below would do, especially when he realizes he has been knocked out by a high schooler.-“ his hand, now standing right next to your face, you pull away before he can touch.

All the fear and the lights in your head have already made way to anger, “I don’t like being touched.”

“Who does?” He says with a tiny laugh, hand by his side again.

And just like that, he takes a step back as if the last five minutes never existed in the first place. “It’s late, let me escort you to your house.” He waits by the our, one arm stretched out to make way for you.

And learn where I live? Hard pass. The two of you start walking back, him a step behind you. The halls feel emptier now somehow. Not a single ray of light creaking in. “I don’t need the help of some douche from-“ you stop.

“Mafia executive, Dazai Osamu.” He keeps walking as he throws the title into the air, the word executive echoing in your ears. Isn’t he too young to be in a position like that, let alone the mafia?

Taking a step over the still body of the boy -his subordinate, as he called him, he stands right outside the door just like you first saw him.

How long ago was it? It feels longer than it should be.

“Stop loitering around, we got a long way back! You can tell me all about your ability as we go.”

He is younger than you, you’re sure. Appears to pale too, and what you can make of his outfit from all you see plays into the whole sick Victorian era child look. despite his age, he must be as dangerous as this man, Dazai, is, if he is a subordinate tailing along with no other back up. And yet, his form looks defenseless, vulnerable.

“Leave him behind, that’s what he gets for not being alert-“ “And for being defeated by a mere high schooler, yes we get it.” You cut in, jump over the boy and follow the man everything in your body tells you to run away from.

#bad luck #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #gender neutral reader #bsd fanfiction #bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai fanfic #dark era dazai #bungou stray dogs x reader #Bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd fanfic

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lilflowerpot · 4 years

Note

Soulmate AU where the marks on one person's skin show up on the other, but obviously they can't understand each other's writing, so Keith mostly just tries to express himself through art instead. So naturally, when he starts investigating the Blue Lion he starts drawing THAT too. Which is why, when Voltron shows up, Lotor is Dead Certain that the blue paladin is his soulmate, and he desperately tries to force himself to fall in love with Lance even while he's like "... Really? THIS guy?"

Lotor’s soulmate is not illiterate, but they may as well be. He’s compared their careless scrawl against every language in the Imperial data banks - thrice! - and it’s simply... not there.

“They’re a primitive,” Ezor nods sagely from where she’s half draped over his shoulder, eyeing the illegible lettering on his wrist with an entertained curl to her lips, “must be. Guess the universe wanted to counterbalance all your insufferable braininess.”

When Lotor shrugs her off with a snarl, she has the audacity to laugh.

Acxa’s kinder, or she tries to be, comforting him with the notion that if his soulmate is a primitive, they’re at the very least an educated one, or better yet of a more evolved society wherein knowledge of scripture is commonplace, so... they’re not feral.

Zethrid seems to half wish that they were, if only for the thrill of it.

“And the sex,” Ezor tacks on with an evil little grin, “the sex would have been fantastic.”

Her soulmate’s raucous glee drowns out any further discussion of the topic.

So they can’t communicate, not with words, but if Lotor’s soulmate is anything it’s tenacious (and the Prince can’t help but admire that). They come to the conclusion that pictures are the way to go, painting Lotor’s forearms with a veritable rainbow of quadrilaterals, each containing varying stripes and symbols, and then a series of dotted squiggles that Lotor is beginning to recognise as their approximation of a question.

The problem being he doesn’t actually know what it is that they’re asking.

There’s one rectangle - the majority of which is striped red and white, with a one contrasting quarter of stars in a blue sky - that his soulmate keeps coming back to, and Lotor realises it must be a clan symbol of a sort, indicative of their own people and culture, but... once again scouring Imperial logs turns up nothing of import. Frustrated, Lotor practically carves the hateful Imperial emblem into his palm with jagged lines of ink - Vrepit Sa - and turns in for the night.

In the morning, his arms are wiped clean.

They stay that way for a quintent.

Two.

On the third, he hears back, and it rocks his entire world view.

Kraliept Sa.

The lines are careful, deliberate, as if someone unfamiliar with the old scripture had taken great pains to transcribe that singular character, and Lotor quite simply can’t believe his eyes, because that would mean... that would mean that the only two things he knows of his soulmate are in direct contrast with one another: the first being that they are completely isolated from the Empire, and the second more impossible yet, that they have ties to the Blade of Marmora.

They continue this way for almost a decaphoeb, and it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

Lotor sends renderings of the stars, his ship, Kova, and in return his soulmate replies with sketches of the animals and sunsets and vast expanses of desert on an alien world.

One evening, they blur blues and greens into a perfect little marble on the inside of Lotor’s knee, an arrow pointing to one of the green patches labeled with a sequence of characters that the galra Prince is beginning to recognise as his soulmate’s name - though he can’t so much as begin to guess at how they might be pronounced - and so on the opposite knee Lotor paints Daibazaal, and then, because that feels inadequate, smears his thumb through the centre of the planet he no longer calls home, doodling a battalion of ships leaving the wreckage in a mass exodus, the children of an orphaned world.

And once more, his soulmate falls quiet.

It’s almost a full phoeb until they reach out again, and when they do Lotor finds them franctic, frightened, their little blue-green marble only the beginning; an entire solar system follows, complete with details such as what Lotor assumes must be an accurate number of moons on each planet for how deliberately they’re marked out, and then-

A ship.

It’s small and unassuming and positively archaic in design, but it’s a ship nonetheless, and as Lotor watches, his soulmate draws and erases and re-draws that same design until it’s traveled the length of his leg - thigh to ankle - and ‘lands’ on an unassuming moon of the most distant planet. They circle it with agitation, jabbing whatever implement they’re using to mark their own skin so violently that Lotor’s quite sure they must bleed under the force of it, but he doesn’t know what to say, let alone know how to say it if he did.

The next morning, his soulmate’s mural has gone.

The phantom ache of it remains.

They call him Champion.

Lotor only takes interest because of the timing, because of the circumstance, because it’s Sendak’s fleet that located these new lifeforms on a desolate moon in some distant corner of the universe, and of all Zarkon’s commanders he most of all has something of a reputation for toeing the line between cruelty and outright sadism.

The odds are one in a million, but that’s not a risk Lotor is willing to take.

He paints an obnoxious criss-cross of colour onto his own face that will be impossible to hide or mistake for anything other than what it is, and sends his generals to ascertain whether the Champion or either of the two lifeforms that accompanied him - soon to be subject to the work camps - share the mark.

They don’t, not one of them, and so Lotor chalks it up to coincidence and moves on.

Finding what could almost be mistaken for the legendary Blue Lion on the back of his hand only for Voltron proper to re-emerge into the universe after thousands of decaphoebs with the Champion himself allegedly at the helm, is not so easily written off.

And this time, when his soulmate abandons him to cold silence, it feels final.

Thayserix was very much a spur of the moment decision, but Lotor has never been so glad of such impulsivity as he is now, with the blue Lion of Voltron having been stolen from the thick mists and safely in his grasp.

Though, it’s not the lion that interests him.

Yes she’s a beautiful beast of considerable power, but in this case it is quite literally what’s on the inside that counts, that being of course Lotor’s soulmate... or so he’d thought.

Princess Allura of Altea cannot be them.

At least he certainly hopes not.

She’s lovely, in theory, but they’ve been in a stalemate for the past varga with her sullenly refusing to so much as consider entertaining Lotor’s attempts at hospitality, let alone conversation, and instead quite stubbornly standing with both her guard and weapon raised.

“I really would simply like to speak with-”

“Release me.”

Her end of things has consisted solely of those two words, and the monotony of it all really is growing rather tiresome.

Narti saves him from another repetitive bout, slinking into his mind and whispering that the rest of Voltron have located them far more quickly than Lotor would have thought possible.

The worst part is he’s almost grateful.

“Very well,” he growls, temper wearing thin, “your friends are here to collect you Princess, perhaps they will be more amenable to a little tête-à-tête, hm?”

They are not.

“Release Allura,” is the first thing to pass the dark-haired Paladin’s lips, teeth bared and tongue sharp, and it takes everything Lotor is not to simply concede on the spot.

“Frankly, I would love to,” he spits, gratified by how completely this blindsides the lot of them, every face on the holoscreen struck blank by his immediate compliance. “I do not believe she is the individual I am looking for, nor does she seem inclined to assist me in locating whosoever is. Answer my questions, and you are welcome to her and the blue Lion both.”

“We... We are?” It’s an older gentleman who speaks up, the only other altean among them.

“Absolutely,” Lotor hisses, and then graciously concedes: “the mistake was mine. I simply wished to open a dialogue with who I had assumed to be the blue Paladin, but as she is of a background that would doubtless have allowed us to communicate in galra script, that no longer seems the case.”

Their group look like they’re going to ask him to further explain what must sound to the lot of them nonsense... all except the black Paladin whose eyes have gone wide on some personal revelation, whispering “you,” as if he can’t believe his ears, only to spit out an obscenity before repeating himself with all the fury of an imploding star. “You!”

There are several exclamations of “Keith-!” as those violet eyes narrow to slits, the man smacking his hand down and cutting their com-line dead.

Ezor, helpful as ever, mumbles: “Well that went well,” quiet enough that it’s almost as if she doesn’t mean for everyone in the otherwise silent cockpit to hear her.

For the first time in ten thousand decaphoebs, the black Lion is - technically - in Imperial hands.

Lotor couldn’t care less.

The man who strides out of her is a veritable firestorm, all dark brows and snarling lips, and in a heartbeat Lotor knows, he just knows, who he is.

What he is.

Galra, for one, almost certainly a hybrid like Lotor - it’s the eyes that betray him, half luminescent with rage - and there’s a gorgeous poeticism to that.

Reckless for another, and behind him from where she’s been brought to stand witness, Princess Allura is clearly horrified to see her companion step from Voltron’s keystone and leave it completely unprotected, but the Paladin doesn’t seem to care, and neither does Lotor.

“Release Allura,” he growls again, voice like thunder and just as electrifying as he storms across the landing bay without hesitation, not even stopping to glance in his fellow Paladin’s direction and affirm that Zethrid has, in fact, released her as instructed.

No, Lotor’s soulmate simply fists pale fingers into paler hair and hisses, “fuck you,” into his mouth before kissing the Prince senseless.

Later - much, much later - Lotor is pleased to report back to Ezor that the sex is, in fact, fantastic.

#sorry/not sorry I wrote an entire ficlet thing but this was just TOO GOOD #this is totally self-indulgent but like.. if that's not the point of fanfiction then idk what is #one day I will actually write out a keitor soulmates au in full but today is not that day #so for the time being you will have to content yourselves with this #sa screams back #keitor #other aus #ficlet #prince lotor #keith kogane

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moongoddesskiana · 3 years

Text

I'm just thinking about AU where you keep elements from different canons for maximum angst as well as maximum 'you done fucked up my fave' because the writers really don't understand my fave's origin story

So Jason recently left the Titans (have I ever watched more than the first 3 eps no but I've seen enough clips and fanvids) and is back to working with Bruce. They are working on a case where the criminal has diplomatic immunity, Jason goes to confront the dude who proceeds to fall off the balcony (also for kicks the dude said that no one was going to believe that Jason had nothing to do with it when Jason tried to save him and he shoved Jason off) and dies.

After this Jason is forced to go to therapy where Leslie (whom he already knows and trusts) helps him a bit though he is still very much struggling. Jason then over hears Bruce say that Jason is being too rough and is going to be taken off active duty, Jason then runs out of the manor and into Crime Alley. Bruce tracks him down and they have a conversation like the one in Titans and Jason asks Bruce not to give up on him and that he had nothing to do with the dude's death.

Not sure if I'm gonna have Bruce believe him or not, but Bruce thinks this is for the best and doesn't realize how much this fucks up Jason and worsens his feelings of being rejected. As Jason leaves the alley but is still in the neighborhood an old neighbor flags him down saying they have some of his family's old things. Jason sneaks back into his room and goes over everything in the box hoping to find some of his mom's old things, what Jason actually finds is his birth certificate. The mother's name starting with an S but otherwise unreadable. Jason doesn't feel like he has anyone to go to and tries to track down his bio mom.

Cross referencing Willis addressbook he finds 3 possibilities, I'm gonna be lazy and say that Sheila was in town for like enough time for Jason to find her in Gotham. Meanwhile Joker broke out of Arkham and Batman's on the case and thinks that Sheila's job's local warehouse known to not usually be in use is Joker's next move. Sheila tells Jason she has to go to a meeting but to meet up later when Bruce runs into Jason.

Bruce asks Jason where he's been and what is he doing on a Joker case (it's been like a week since Jason left the manor only leaving a note saying that basically reads I know when I'm not wanted don't do a obligatory search.). Jason for a second thought Bruce had been looking for him and that he actually cared until he asked what Jason was doing on a case, Jason's sense of rejection escalates.

Bruce says that Sheila workplace might be in trouble but that he was also checking out another lead. Jason tracks down Sheila to warn her that the Joker might be up to something using her work's warehouse, she's like sure kid uh huh until he shows he the Robin suit. Then Sheila says to help her search the warehouse before her meeting which was to happen at the warehouse so that they would know if anything bad was inside.

Jason says that he should call in Batman just in case when they round a corner in the warehouse and the Joker is there. Jason (in Robin suit) turns to Shelia to yell at her to run when she pulls out a gun and points it at Jason telling him "sorry kid looks like you trusted the wrong person this time."

Jason is then tied up and beaten with a crowbar, whilst Sheila sits back and smokes on a nearby crate. Jason goes unconscious and Sheila is tied to the warehouse while the Joker says there can be no witnesses. Jason tries to get them both out of there while he struggles to move, they make it to the door when he hears a timer seconds away from zero while Sheila tries to open the door. Jason covers her body with his own while resigning himself to death. The warehouse explodes.

First responders are already on the scene when Bruce gets there. Sheila is alive long enough to tell Batman that Jason was a good kid, a better kid than one she thought she would make. The first responders found Jason before Bruce did, Robin was pronounced dead on arrival.

Everything is happening in between season 2 and 3 btw, well at least until Red Hood arrives.

Dick hears about the explosion over the news and rushes to Gotham, team in hand. They miss the funeral. Dick finds out that Jason had been missing for a week before that and is pissed Bruce didn't tell him. A month later Tim forces his way into Robin and gets assistance from the Titans who welcome him with open arms.

3 months after his death Jason crawls out of his grave, Scarecrow and the League of Assassins are working together (don't ask why idk either) and Jason stumbles across a meeting. Someone notices Jason isn't responding properly and they began experimenting on him eventually realizing that one of Scarecrow's toxins makes him less fearful and respond to orders more. Talia grows to give a shit and puts him in a Lazarus Pit before she is sent away but still partly in charge. Ra's says to drug him before he wakes up and to make Jason reliant on the drugs and on the League of Assassins.

Jason is trained up for a year before they put him on the scene as a figurehead but not really in charge of anything Red Hood. Jason tries to keep civilian casualties as low as he can, tries to keep things centered on ending Gotham's crime and criminals. He makes his number one rule no drugs to kids, no harm to children, no exceptions.

Two lackeys who drugged Robin were made as examples. Jason himself was still force fed Scarecrow's toxin every day.

The code name Red Hood was one of the few things that he had been given control over a nice little Fuck you to the Joker (still alive and kicking) which he had a do not engage order for so he couldn't kill the guy himself (not that he thought he would be able to even with the toxin). Jason tries to use it as a force of change, a force of good for Gotham. Sometimes when the drugs were wearing off he wondered how much harm he was doing compared to good, and how easily he killed criminals.

The league of assassin's pulls out of Gotham for reasons Jason doesn't know about, Jason tries to get clean while an imposter with meta abilities impersonated Red Hood in order to get to Hank and does Gotham harm. The titans have been in town for most of the time btw. The meta, a telepathic shapeshifter, bumped into Jason read his mind and figured Jason Todd would be a good cover for them while they did this and they could implant memories into Jason later and no evidence would lead back to them especially because of Jason laying low and trying to detox alone.

So yeah Jason still murders people but the stuff in the show making someone snap their neck, civilian casualties that shouldn't have happened and killing Hank, that was a meta in this because I can't see even a very fucked up Jason doing those things.

Everyday the meta tracks Jason down reads his mind and implants new memories. Jason tries to get help but that keeps getting stopped or people refuse to help him for the things they think he did.

The meta is taken into custody when someone realizes that that isn't Jason because either he called one of them or one of them saw him one the street collapsing. This leads to so much confusion epically since Jason has two sets of memories the stuff he did do (duffle bag of heads) and things he didn't do (kill Hank). In the process of sorting his memories the Titans realize how much they fucked up with Jason especially when they hear him say 'Arkham is to good for me, I need to be put down, I'm poison.' After hearing him whimper in his sleep begging Bruce not to put him in Arkham, to not leave him with the Joker.

Jason and Tim mostly get along and become siblings, but Gar is the only Titan who didn't really hurt my fave from what I know. The rest didn't really treat Jason as one of them and didn't try to understand him or empathize. I heard that Kori was also okay with him but then I saw a clip from 3x08 and I was like :/

Don't have anything else currently for this idea

#batman #robin #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #dc titans #titans live action #l rambles #l rants #l ramble #l rant

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breaddaerb · 3 years

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Reyge hcs? Also ya look adorable asf

[ sage x reyna I ]

✎↷: oh my godsjiwhdh i love your blog! it is such an honor to answer one of your requests, so i pray that you enjoy these. thank you for the compliment by the way, awoo, i have received a true blessing today!!

sage doesn’t need a lot to enjoy herself. with everything about her work being draining, there’s nothing better than sinking back in a foaming bath tub with a glass or two of wine. in fact, that was what she was doing! until reyna stepped into her personal bathroom and began to strip without answering the healer’s puzzled questions, neatly folding her clothing on the countertop . when reyna had stopped to actually answer her girlfriend, she was already comfortable in the bath tub with her. sage grumbled, upset that her personal time had been soiled, but then reyna offered to wash her hair and gosh, it was lovely.

reyna likes to toy with sage no matter how they go. at a meeting, reyna had sat at the end of the table with a hand on her girlfriend’s knee, massaging and roaming. sage had to sit there and take it because there was no way that she would ever risk letting the other agents find out, but reyna officially screwed herself over the second they stepped out of the board room.

that night was one to remember, if reyna’s unhealed bruises had anything to say about it.

their dates typically take place outside of headquarters, where the two of them can interact undisturbed. they’ve gone on nighttime walks to movie theaters, and beaches to boardwalks. they happen to take place on their missions when they can afford it, having been drafted out too many times. it’s nice to sightsee when your work forces you to never stay put.

a memorable date had taken place in italy when they were up on ascent. the battle had been won and reyna’s hand guided the busy sage out of the temporary medbay set up, a promise on her lips and a warning for the dove to take a break. the pair had taken a walk and sat on the edge of a dock with their feet dangling in the air, whispers exchanged for intimate reassurances. a shared kiss, then another, and their secretive smiles topping it off.

reyna keeps sage in check. it goes without saying that sage carries the heaviest burden out of all of the agents, with more blood staining her mind than her hands. so she reminds her partner, relieves her, allows her to take her weight off for a few minutes like hercules did for atlas. reyna’s loyality comes in waves, and if sage asked her to carry the heavens for her, she would.

sage has always known what she wanted. she didn’t like the back and forth that reyna took with her, going from touchable to unreachable within seconds. it’s actually sage who made the first move, upset and edged. the healer had grabbed the woman by the nape of her neck, faces inches apart as she growled: “you would be dead eleven times over if i wasn’t here. stop that nonsense and go out with me, unless you plan to make that twelve.”

upon asking reyna about sage, there are two different reactions you’ll get. one is angry, ticked that someone dare say her lover’s name on their lips. but the other one is more distracted, hopelessly in love and happy. the change is scary if someone witnesses it, so it’s best not to mention sage around her. ever.

reyna and sage have a contest about who’s more suave than the other. the mexican is bold, pronounced about what she feels, but sage can easily counter her in a second. there’s so much tension between them that they’re bound to gross out any of the agents who have had to witness the two of them do a showdown.

in the beginning before they begun dating, skye was the one to notice it first. because her gaydar is insane and sage? sage was hopeless. her smile turned teasing as she nudged her fellow healer, who was preoccupied and eyeing up the duelist, and smugly spoke up. “‘ey. you should go ask her’ if she likes girl in red. or, better’ yet, keilani!”

sage spat out her tea, and had gutted skye so hard that the whole protocol had heard it. (legend says that skye has a dent in her stomach now. others say that it’s just her belly button.)

as the other best friends, killjoy and cypher couldn’t resist meddling with sage’s relationship. anytime they hung out would eventually turn to the subject of romance, where the two of them would adamantly stare at sage until she spilled about something she and reyna did together. cypher would squeal while killjoy furiously wrote it down for.. whatever reason, and sage has never felt so violated.

on the other side of the spectrum, reyna feels the snide remarks of omen. he did nothing except for saying, “i heard that sage likes to sleep. have you tried it with her yet?” and that’s was plenty enough for reyna to storm out of the room.

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flamingo-writes · 4 years

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Zoro x reader! They've been traveling companions for a year before they met Luffy and became pirates, so they're close to each other. S/O fell in love with Zoro but he rejects her, so they stayed as close friends. Then, after 2 years passed, S/O is still friendly to him and the others but seemingly moved on while Zoro's love for her grow, and while he was still ambitious towards his dream, he felt so lonely as he watched S/O move on, even if she's happier than before.

Hello!! I’m so sorry for the late response!!

From the moment I read this request, I fell in love with it!! It took me a while to write it, but here it is!! Let’s go! (I slipped a bit of Law x Reader to add to the angst, I hope you don´t mind XD)

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: angst

Posted: 06.05.2020

Unique Kind of Pain — Zoro x Reader / Law x Reader

It didn’t matter how much time Zoro spent training, it never seemed to be enough. As soon as he got down from the crow's nest, and he saw you there, it instantly hurt. Almost as if someone poked his heart with a needle, it stung. Constantly. His decisions haunted him, and were slowly carving a whole in his chest.

The sight of you was unbearable. And it pained him. Seeing his best friend should not hurt this much. And yet, the weight of his mistakes seemed to follow you everywhere. Your smile, the warmth of your skin, the sound of your voice. Oh, the sound of your voice when you called his name.

“Zoro! Come see this! Look what Ussop did!”

That same gentle voice that had been calling his name for several years now. He remembered he sometimes found it annoying. The way your voice pronounced his name when you were angry. The concern, when he got injured. The annoyance when you got lost and were looking for him. Back then, he disliked the ways your voice called his name. But now, each and every single time you called his name felt like a cursed blessing.

He wiped his face with the towel, as sweat kept falling from the intense training. His heart shrunk at the sight of your smile, your eyes reflecting fascination at Ussop’s newest project.

“You’re amazing, Ussop”

“Thanks, [Name]!” Ussop giggled.

He could hardly concentrate on Ussop's new additions to his slingshot, as he was distracted by you. Your smile radiating fascination as it shone all the way into your eyes. The sweet smell of your hair that now haunted him in his sleep.

Over time, as his feelings for you grew and grew, things got worse. Little by little. It hurt. But it wasn't so bad. Not yet at least.

At least not until the whole Dressrosa chaos was over. In Punk Hazard, Zoro could tell Law was being particularly friendly towards you. But he could easily ignore that. God knows what happened in Dressrosa. For a fair amount of time, you stuck with him, fighting side by side. And suddenly, you were gone.

Back in the Sunny after whatever shit show Fujitora tried to pull before you left. Everyone was on the ship and it was only you who was missing. Zoro's heart was in his throat, wondering if you were alive.

A series of conflicting feelings overwhelmed him at once when you ran across the deck and jumped into the ship. A cheeky laugh escaped your breathless lips as you apologized to your crewmates. As your eyes scanned the Sunny, they stopped when you saw Trafalgar Law, rather weak, sitting on the grass.

"Law!" You sprinted one last time towards him.

Falling in your knees as you slid a few feet, colliding with the doctor and wrapping your arms around Law.

"Oh god, you're fine!" You said breaking the hug and looking at him. "Your arm! You got it back"

"Yeah. I was not going to lose my arm. Fuck that" He chuckled "You dissapeared, I was worried"

"I went looking for Luffy...sorry"

"It's okay, you're fine and you're here" One of his long hands brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering on your cheek as you leaned into his touch, looking into his grey eyes.

The whole scene, while for most of the strawhats looked rather adorable, for Zoro ir was unbearable.

A sting pinching his heart, as well as an uncomfortable twist of his guts suddenly angered him. Not angry at Traffy. Zoro knew it was childish to get angry at him. He was angry at himself for digging his own grave like this. He wished he was the one in your arms, and not Law. He wished he had corresponded to your feelings back then.

Without saying much, he turned around and left. Drowning himself in yet another intense training. Probably more intense than before. His mind constantly picturing you in Law's arm, his imagination torturing him, playing him. Picturing you kissing him, clinging to him, as his hands roamed your body, whispering sweet nothings back and forth in each other's ears as you were both consumed by desire.

The sweat puddling on the floor didn't seem to be enough. The strain in his muscles and the fatigue weren't enough to stop his head from wildly betraying him.

"Oi! Zoro!" Franky called, cheerfully climbing the ladder to the crowsnest. "Robin says dinner is ready! Since sanji isn't here, she cooked for us tonight"

TFrabky's fatherly instincts needed a single glance at Zoro to notice he was pushing himself way too much.

"Zoro? Aren't you overworking yourself?"

"I'm fine," Zoro grunted, doing another sit up with a bar and weights on his shoulders.

"No you're not!" The cyborg hurried to his side. "Stop that, if you injure yourself, Chopper not only will get mad, but you won't be able to work out for a while!" He begged as Zoro growled lowly and put the weight on the floor before sitting down on the ground "Don't you feel like everything hurts?"

"That's precisely the problem" Zoro whispered to himself, however Franky managed to listen clearly as day.

"What?"

"Nothing" Zoro answered.

"Do you feel alright?" The swordsman looked at Franky, noting Franky was being insistent.

"Yeah. C'mon. Let's go" Zoro shrugged.

"Zoro, don't lie to me. I know something's bothering you" Franky said louder than before.

"It's nothin'"

"Its [Name], isn't it?"

Zoro stopped dead cold at the entrance of the crowsnest. He glanced at Franky over his shoulder.

"I noticed the way you were looking at her when she ran to hug Law" Franky said. "If you like her why don't you tell her?"

"I can't"

"Of course you can! Aren't you guys best friends?" Zoro glared at Franky, feeling somewhat annoyed, and also desperate.

"It's more complicated than that"

"Talk to me, kid" Franky said, resting one of his huge hands on Zoro's shoulder.

He took a deep breath, thinking. He'd never talked to anyone about it. When you confessed your feelings for him back in Thriller Bark. He wanted to keep it a secret, but his body urged him to let all those intrusive thoughts out. Maybe talking to someone would help him soothe his nerves instead of intensively working out.

"After dinner," Zoro said.

He wanted to buy some time, maybe put his thoughts in order before talking to Franky.

Strangely enough, what normally felt like a blink of an eye,the usual chaotic dinner scene now seemed to go by in slow motion.

On one hand, his thoughts seemed to float around the room, shapelessly, and without an order. His mind was a total mess. Ten times more chaotic than the traditionally loud strawhat mealtime.

On the other, your flirty playful game with Law. You were talking to him, not really minding the other conversations taking place in the kitchen. His arm was around your shoulders as the both of you were deep in your conversation. Zoro could tell how your "mindless" playing with his hand wasn't so mindless.

After dinner, Zoro politely waited for Franky to be done and the both of them left the kitchen without saying much.

Zoro told Franky the whole story. Normally, he'd like to go straight to the point and keep the details to himself. But talking to someone about it, felt so liberating, all of his thoughts left his lips without second thoughts.

Franky listened. Carefully. And very rarely interrupted Zoro to ask something. In the end, he remained silent for a few moments, letting all the information sink in and drawing conclusions.

"I still think you should talk to her. Maybe she'll get mad, considering the circumstances. But she still deserves to know. Especially because it's bothering you this much" He began "Even if she gets mad, she's your friend. I've seen you guys fight and yell at each other, and half an hour later, see you guys laughing as if nothing happened"

"I don't know…" The swordsman whispered

"Think about it…"

Zoro sighed loudly, looking at the moon shining bright close to the sea.

A set of silhouettes left the kitchen into the deck. Not noticing Zoro and Franky, Law and you made it to the edge, looking at the moon and the stars.

Zoro watched, silently, feeling his burdens weigh on his shoulders heavier than all of the weights up in the crowsnest.

It didn't take long for Law to place a hand on your waist, as you spun on your toes looking at him. Unable to hear what you were saying back and forth, Zoro could tell where this whole scene was going to end up.

It didn't take long for you to stand on the tip of your toes, and for Law to leane down. Any trace of space was gone. The both of you trapped in a kiss Zoro craved.

He felt nauseous and light on his feet. He turned around, unable to keep watching as you wrapped your arms around Law's shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Zoro" Franky whispered upon witnessing the scene.

"I am too…" Zoro said defeated. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, I'm off to bed now".

"Goodnight, kid," Franky said looking at Zoro as he silently made his way through the deck to the guys' room.

"Night, Franky" He whispered, not helping but peek once more, as Law had you in his arms, kissing you passionately.

It hurt. It hurt as bad as it hurt when he realized he had feelings for you. And hurt like the pain your eyes reflected when you confessed to him back in the day. It hurt like the realization that you had moved on whereas he had fallen for you. And boy, what a unique kind of pain that was.

#one piece zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro imagine #one piece law #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d law #law #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

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izlaria · 3 years

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Someone you like (part 4)

This is the fourth chapter of my “Someone you like” inspired fic. It’s also available on AO3 in case you prefer that platform. Please hit me up to talk about Plance!

Summary: In the days following their arrival on Earth, Pidge finds that conflicting feelings don't just disappear because there are more people around. On the contrary, with the approach of the final battle, they seem to get worse.

FYI, we’re still on Pidge pining hour.

18 and 16 years old

Life was not easy when you were a soldier fighting against an evil, intergalactic empire, but Pidge had found a sort of balance to it all. Now that they were back on Earth and she knew her family was relatively safe, much of the sorrow she’d carried had dissolved into hopefulness.

Much, but not all.

Pidge leaned her head against the wall, hugging the papers to her chest. Being on the Garrison made it easier for her to ignore her erratic heartbeats, because she could just avoid Lance most of the time, but it also sent her into overdrive when she accidentally met him in the hallways. She could usually depend on her mother to be there – Pidge was grounded, after all –, but there were times when not even Colleen could protect her.

She wanted to talk to Lance, of course. He was one of her best friends and no crush could ever change that, but it took a lot out of Pidge to hear him drone on about Allura and all the places he wanted to show her on Earth.

Maybe her evasiveness wasn’t the most mature of Pidge’s choices, but she was tired and lovesick and feeling neglected. She would have to be excused a little pettiness.

“Do you want to tell me why I just saw you ignore Lance?” Matt raised his brows at her, an expression that Pidge herself often mimicked and that was especially irritating to be the target of. He was standing off to the side of her station, gloves still on.

Pidge pushed away from the wall, feeling flustered. She hadn’t realized her brother had witnessed the scene.

“Did I ignore Lance?” Pidge opted to feign innocence. “I was so lost in thought I didn’t really see him there. Or you.” This last bit she said with a touch of hostility.

Matt crossed his arms and hummed, sounding disbelieving. “You always were the worst liar out of the two of us, Pidge.”

She shouldered past Matt with a glare. There was a lot of work to do until the Atlas was completed and the last thing she needed were distractions like her feelings for Lance or a fight with her brother.

“When did you land on Earth, anyway?” Pidge put the papers down on her table and moved to one of the computer screens, where she’d left a new code running. It was an improved version of her and Matt’s previous software for predicting Galra presence. “I could use your eyes on this.”

Matt stood at her back, looking over her shoulder at the lines that lit up the computer.

“This is interesting…” He squinted down at Pidge. “Don’t think for a second that a new challenge will make me forget what I just saw.”

She took advantage of Matt’s positioning to elbow him in the gut.

Truthfully, Pidge knew her brother wouldn’t tease her too much about her circumstances. Matt was caring and even protective when it came to her well-being, so he would never rat her out to Lance or any of the others, even if he disagreed with her actions.

Despite that, she struggled with being vulnerable around him.

Pidge didn’t want to think about it, but the years they’d spent apart had certainly affected their relationship. Before going to space, Matt was more than her brother, he had been her closest friend. But now she had Hunk, Lance, and even Keith and Allura. If she needed guidance, Coran and Shiro were only a call away.

She would always be close to Matt, but he was no longer the only person whose company she valued.

“We should finish this up before mom comes around,” Pidge said, trying to refocus. “She comes to collect me at the end of the day.” She rolled her eyes.

“That still going on?” Matt chuckled as he pulled a chair over to her station. He scanned the reports she had just brought in.

“I can’t even go out to eat with the team. We’ve had to meet in the cafeteria, of all places.”

“I’m just glad the cooking staff changed since I was a student.” Matt wrinkled his nose. “That was just nasty.”

“Except for the burgers.” And here Pidge smiled, suddenly reminded of all the times Hunk and Lance had dragged her to lunch and how they always ended up making a mess of their table.

“On Mondays, that’s right!” Matt glanced at her and Pidge couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “Until when are you grounded, anyway?”

“Let’s see, I was fifteen when I was whisked into space, so…” She pretended to do the calculations. “Until my twenty-first birthday, unless dad intervenes.”

Matt snorted. “Good luck with that. He doesn’t really have any weight with mom right now. She’s still upset about the whole being-pronounced-dead thing.”

Pidge groaned, burying her face into her hands. “I’ll be going to war in a month, but I still have no freedom here.” She raised her eyes to look at him. “Can’t you talk to mom?”

“And risk my newfound position as the favorite? You’re on your own, kiddo.” He continued to stare down at the papers for a moment, before turning to face her properly. “You know why she’s doing this, right? You spent three years MIA. We thought you were dead.” He exhaled forcefully. “I thought you were dead.”

Pidge didn’t really know how to respond. Since her arrival on Earth, she’d had versions of this conversation with several people, but her brother had always stood back and given her a little space. He probably knew better than most how overwhelming such a welcome could be. “I am sorry, Matt.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Turnaround is fair play, I guess.”

“Stop.” Pidge put a hand on his arm. She worked her jaw, trying to figure out what to say. “I never wanted you to find out how that felt.”

Matt nodded once, swallowing hard. Pidge could tell that he was putting his emotions back in check.

“I’m proud of what you’ve done, Katie. Mom might act like you’re still a kid, but I was out there before you came along.” It reminded Pidge that, though he hadn’t been present for her battles, Matt had seen his own share of horrors. “Voltron turned the tide, in no small part because of you.”

“Thank you.” She tried to blink away the tears. Matt smiled and brought his hands up to cup her face.

“My little sister is a badass, so I don’t want to see you hiding behind corners because of some stupid boy.” When she tried to protest, he just squished her cheeks. “Who does not deserve you, by the way.”

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh. She could always count on Matt to make her smile through her tears.

“I thought you liked Lance,” she said once Matt had let go of her face. He grimaced.

“He’s eighteen and a flirt.” Her brother didn’t even try to go back to work, he merely kicked his legs up onto a workbench and crossed his arms. “I would feel better about Keith, even.”

“You say that because Shiro would be just as bad of a protective older brother as you.” She pushed at his chair, making Matt almost lose his balance.

“You would never be alone unchaperoned, it would be great,” he confirmed, still pulling himself back into position.

“You realize that I’m technically nineteen?” She aimed a sharp look at him.

“You realize you look twelve?” Matt shot back, looking unbearably satisfied with himself. This time Pidge had no mercy for him; she sent his chair rolling down the aisle and Matt with it.

“Honestly, you have nothing to worry about.” She wrapped an arm around her middle. “Lance is so enamored with Allura that I could yell in his ear that I like him and the goofball would think I meant it platonically.”

Matt wheeled himself back to her. “Then he’s a fool.”

“You’re just saying that,” Pidge scoffed. “You were just as bad as him when meeting Allura.”

“Look, Allura is beautiful, that’s true, but it doesn’t diminish your qualities.” He put a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close so that their voices didn’t echo in the empty laboratory. “You are funny and witty and smarter than anyone in this damn complex. Don’t you dare compare yourself to Allura.”

Pidge dragged her chair until she was resting against Matt’s shoulder.

“It’s sort of inevitable. She’s the one he likes and I have to accept it.” She looked at the computer, where lines of code kept appearing and disappearing. “It’s just hard to be near him. I feel like I’ll do something and everyone will… know.”

“You spent almost a year pretending to be someone else, I think your acting skills are a little better than that.”

“Didn’t you criticize my lying just a few minutes ago?” she deadpanned.

“Well…” Matt gave her a cheeky grin. “I’ve known you your entire life, so I’m a Katie Holt expert.”

“Of course,” she drawled out, rolling her eyes.

Pidge felt her brother put an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her to his side.

“You’re perfect, okay?” he murmured into her hair. “Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise.”

She closed her eyes and let herself fall into his embrace. It was something she had missed, even now that the team was back on Earth. Everything had changed since the Kerberos mission and, while a lot of it was good, Pidge couldn’t deny that she wished Matt would stay with them more often.

“Okay.” Her voice trembled, but Matt didn’t mention it, choosing to tighten his hold on her.

“Knock, knock! Anyone in here?” As soon as the voice sounded, Pidge scrambled to hide her face. She got up and pretended to check a different monitor, turning her back to the door. She heard Lance approach their station. “Oh, hey, guys!” Then, seeming to notice the mood of the room. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, man.” Matt was the first to recover. Pidge felt him move, probably trying to keep Lance from getting any closer. “We were just discussing some Holt secret coding.” She almost snickered at this, despite the heartbeat that still hammered in her ears. It was the sort of thing that only a non-techie would believe.

“And I thought us McClains were bad with our ropa vieja recipe.” She chanced a look over her shoulder to catch Lance’s smile. He was always at his brightest when talking about his family.

“You needed something, Lance?” Matt was being a bit more brusque than normal, but his expression was thankfully still amenable. Pidge would have hit him if he just started being a jerk to Lance.

“Not really,” the other boy responded. He looked around Matt to smile at Pidge. “I was just hoping to catch up with Pidge before your mother comes around.” He shuddered. “Let me tell you, that’s a scary lady. She could almost beat mami with that I’m-not-mad-just-disappointed face.”

“You tell me?” Matt sighed. “That’s one thing I don’t look forward to when touching down at the Garrison.”

“You wanted to talk to me?” Pidge interrupted before they could keep going. Putting two of the friendliest people she knew in the same room was only a good idea if she had the patience for a long conversation. Which she didn’t.

“Ah, are you done ignoring me, Pidgeon?” Lance cocked his hip to one side, looking too sure of himself for his own good.

“I’m working, Lance, something you should be doing as well.” She pretended to fix her glasses, if only to have something to do.

The boy waved a dismissive hand at her. “I’m done for the day and I know for a fact that you’re just working on pet projects until Colleen comes to get you.” When he tried to lean down towards her, Matt moved to stand between them. Lance hesitated, before letting the strange behavior go. “Matt can keep your mom busy if she shows up, right?”

It was difficult to say no to Lance. He was jovial and charming, in particular when he wasn’t actually trying to impress anyone.

“Can you, Matt?” Pidge found herself asking. Her brother frowned at her with uncertainty.

“If that’s what you want, Pidge,” he yielded, when she didn’t back down.

“Let’s go before you get me in trouble, McClain.” Pidge gave a long-suffering sigh and moved past the two boys, who were saying their goodbyes.

Lance caught up to her at the door, opening it with an exaggerated bow.

She walked briskly down the hallway, but Lance had the advantage of his height. For every two, quick steps Pidge took, he only had to take one long stride.

“In a rush to get away?” There was laughter in his voice.

“You’ve seen how mom gets,” she replied, peaking around corners as they moved. “If she doesn’t know where I am for more than five minutes, she seems to think I’ll jump into a ship and disappear for another four years.”

“As if I had it any better.” He gestured to a hallway Pidge knew led to the analytics department. “I’m just lucky Veronica is the only one in my family with clearance to come into the Garrison.”

Pidge snorted. “I should sic my mom on you and Hunk, to make things even.”

Though she’d spent so much of their time on Earth making up excuses not to see Lance, the conversation between them flowed naturally. He had an easy-going energy that calmed Pidge’s more tense nature. While they were in the castle-ship, he had been able to soothe the worst of her worries, until Pidge could actually have fun, despite the fears that troubled her mind.

She didn’t know what would have become of her in this war, if Lance hadn’t been there.

“On the subject of your family…” Lance sent her an anxious look. “Is everything really alright with your brother?”

Pidge could tell he was actually worried, which sent a wave of affection and pain through her chest. She struggled to keep her expression blank.

“We were just talking about the war.” She allowed apprehension to seep into her tone. “I know he has a role to perform out there, but I wish he could stay longer.”

Lance twisted his mouth to the side, an unhappy expression he often adopted when trying to look empathetic. “What has Matt said about it?”

“He misses home, but he can’t really ignore what’s going on with the rebel forces.” Pidge rubbed at her temple. “If we are actually able to end the war, then things might be different, but for now…” she trailed off.

Communications from all around the universe told them Voltron wasn’t the only force preparing for battle. There were a lot of moving parts to consider, especially with the still unknown variable of whose influence had been affecting the Altean colony.

“I know what you mean. After this is all over, I think I’ll take a long vacation to just enjoy good, old Earth.”

This surprised Pidge, startling her from her previous line of thought.

“What, is the Tailor going to retire?” She knocked Lance lightly on the arm, trying for a playful mood.

“No,” he objected. He bent at the waist to look her in the eye and winked. “You know I can’t deny the rest of the universe the beauty of my presence.”

Pidge pushed his face away. It was easy to pretend to be annoyed at Lance when he insisted on acting like this. He was most dangerous when he was genuine. “Be real, man.”

“I am!” He laughed as he stood upright. “It’s just… We’ve been off-planet for so long, I kinda want some time to spend with my family, maybe travel around. I’ve only ever been to Cuba and the US, can you believe it? I’ve seen more of space than of my own planet.”

“Yeah, me too.” Pidge frowned. She hadn’t thought about the situation in these terms before. “I’ve been to Italy and England, but that’s it.”

“We should come up with a plan, get the others in on it.” Lance shot her a smile.

They had walked all the way to the MFE taxiway and Pidge focused her attention on the aircraft that Ryan Kinkade maneuvered across from them. She didn’t want to think of Lance’s warmth so close to her, nor of the future he described.

It didn’t matter how long she avoided him, Lance always found a way back into her life and into her heart. This awareness was painful, when Pidge knew he would never look at her as more than a best friend or a younger sister.

She felt something hit her cheek and looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered over them and soon there was another drop.

“Oh, it’s raining,” Pidge commented offhandedly. By her side, Lance let out a laugh. He sounded so joyful that she couldn’t stop herself from staring.

Lance had opened his arms and raised his face to the rain. It reminded her of something he had said months ago, about the aspects of Earth he missed while in space. She was once again struck by how attracted she was to Lance: his cheerfulness, his stupid humor, the curve of his Adam’s apple and the way his uniform clung to him in the rain.

“I really missed this!” he exclaimed mid-laugh.

Pidge stood still, admiring his delight even as her hands closed to fists at her sides. “Yeah,” she breathed out, “me too.”

After they left the mall, there was still some time for Allura to kill before her date and it was decided that she, Romelle and Pidge would stop to grab something to eat. Rizavi and Ina had previous plans, but they encouraged the girls to have some fun together, leaving unsaid that it might be their last chance to do so.

“I cannot emphasize how thankful I am, Pidge.” Allura reached across the table to grab her hand. She and Romelle had insisted on going into a coffeeshop that had recently reopened; the design was minimalist but cozy, a step-up from anything else they’d seen outside downtown.

“And I’ve said it a hundred times already, princess, I don’t mind.” Pidge let her hand go slack in Allura’s, trying not to snap at her friend. While she appreciated the gratitude, the constant touching was starting to grate on her nerves.

“You do mind,” Allura contested, with the kind of serious but diplomatic tone she used when arguing with Garrison officers. “I could see your hesitance when the vendor first offered the trade. None would have denied your right to keep the item.”

Allura pulled back into herself as she spoke. It was strange to see her uncomfortable, since the princess usually kept either a tranquil or a powerful front in the face of adversity. Free from her touch, Pidge suddenly felt bad for not responding more fervently to Allura’s efforts towards a closer bond. In the castle-ship, she had pretended they were simply too different and, on Earth, too busy.

The truth was much less dignified: Allura had seemed like an unapproachable ideal, made solid only to remind Pidge of all that she could not be. She was prim and beautiful and feminine. Once upon a time, before the complexities of her multiple identities, Katie had aspired to this image, to some degree.

“You’re more important to me than a video game.” Pidge tried to be casual with the way she said this, but the knowing glint that shone in Allura’s eyes told her it was unsuccessful. “I’ll have plenty of time to find it again after the war is over.”

“Perhaps you could teach me these games once we are back.” Allura smiled at her, the picture of earnestness. “I was always curious about the time you and the other paladins dedicated to them.”

“It can be pretty frustrating,” Pidge warned, thinking of the hours she’d wasted with Hunk and Lance just to get past some particularly difficult levels.

“I have noticed that you scream a lot while playing,” the other commented thoughtfully, “but that appears to be part of the bonding experience.”

“You can say that again.” She scoffed.

“Why would I say it again?” Allura tilted her head to the side in confusion and Pidge had to disguise her laughter.

“I’m just agreeing with you.” She sometimes forgot that the Alteans weren’t completely used to Earth culture. In the Castle of Lions, the paladins were the ones to adhere to new patterns. Now, Allura and Coran had to slowly learn their customs, like with this date.

“I suppose we did have something similar in Altea,” Allura mused. “Activities like the maze we had in the Castle were quite popular among the youth.” She leaned over the table to speak in a lower voice. “The element of danger was a point of interest, though I couldn’t quite comprehend why.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Pidge pointed accusingly at Allura. “You’re almost as bad as Keith with throwing yourself into dangerous situations.”

“Am not!” It was always funny to rile her up like this. Allura was so calm and collected that getting her to sound immature was a reward in itself. The other shook her head and settled back into her seat, straightening her posture. “Oh, I know what you are doing.”

Pidge continued to grin at her. “What am I doing?”

The princess narrowed her eyes at Pidge, but her mouth struggled with a smile. “You and Lance have such a way of getting me to lose my cool.” She tapped a rhythm on the table. “I must admit it is endearing.”

There it was again, the shock of warmth and sadness that had troubled Pidge the entire day. She loved Allura and was even happy for her, but her heart was conflicted by the news of her new-found interest in Lance.

It just seemed so sudden, Pidge hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare herself. Or maybe those two had grown closer in the Garrison, while she tried her best not to see them, and this was simply the outcome of her bad choices.

Pidge was saved from responding by the arrival of Romelle, her arms full of napkins.

“What a bargain!” She proclaimed as the packages fell from her hands and bounced across the tabletop. “They have agreed to serve us their best delicacies in trade of Pidge’s autographs, a video of her endorsement and an appearance once every phoeb for the next five moons!” The blonde beamed down at them. “On that regard, what is an endorsement?”

Allura and Pidge shared a dismayed look over the piles of napkins.

“Surely they do not expect Pidge to autograph all of these.” Allura gave Romelle an hesitant smile, as if her politeness could change the answer they all knew was coming.

Romelle blinked at them. “The cook assured me it was an amazing deal.”

Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose, calling on any patience she could muster. She had nothing against Romelle and the Altean was nice and cheerful most of the time, but her naivete when dealing with human conventions never failed to amaze.

“Oh dear,” Allura fretted. “I should go deal with that.”

“Think you can convince them to give us food without getting me stuck here for the near future?” Pidge teased, to disguise her vexation.

Her friend slid off the booth. “I have reasoned with beings from several galaxies, I cannot fathom a Terran entrepreneur will be more stubborn than certain members of the coalition.” Allura straightened her spine and clasped her hands over her stomach, looking every bit the princess she was. The determination in her expression made Pidge smile.

“I can autograph one pile of napkins and I agree to do a video endorsement, but I’m not changing back into costume.” She turned to look at Romelle, who seemed to be accompanying the conversation with good-humored confusion. There was something almost sly about the look in her eyes. “I’m going into space tomorrow, how was I supposed to come back? Besides, I’m grounded. If mom found out we were finished shopping, she’d already be here to drag me home.”

“I might have been swayed by the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen,” the other admitted in a manner that could pass for sheepish. She eyed the napkins, before picking up a package. “I suppose these are a little excessive.”

Allura sighed. “I will be right back.”

They watched the princess move towards the front of the coffeeshop, where the human owner was talking to another set of customers. Romelle sat down where Allura had previously been.

“Alone at last.” She clapped her hands together and faced Pidge with a seriousness that contrasted with her usual vibrancy.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at Romelle. “I knew you were plotting something.”

The blonde shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you privately and I didn’t think we would get the chance in the Garrison.” She glanced back to where Allura stood waiting for the other customers to leave. “The owner was a darling, but he was a tremendous flirt, so Allura won’t be here any time soon.”

“Do I even have to sign anything?” Pidge rested her chin on her hand.

“He wants a picture with you and the princess and an autograph to hang on the wall, but that’s it.” Romelle winked at her.

“So what do you want?” Pidge tapped a finger against her cheek. She didn’t mean to sound so suspicious, but the girl’s orchestrations made the situation feel a little like a trap.

“To thank you.” The emotion in her voice sounded almost like pity. “For your sacrifice today.”

Pidge groaned. “I already told Allura that the video game wasn’t that much of a loss.”

“I am not talking about the game.” There was a moment of silence, during which Pidge kept very still. “I saw your reaction when we told you about the date. It was only then that I realized: you like pointy chin.”

“What makes you think that?” She raised a brow at Romelle, doing her best to appear natural.

“It makes sense.” Romelle looked up at the sparse decorations that adorned the coffeeshop, her expression pensive. “He’s the one you spend the most time with, after Hunk. I didn’t think you were interested in romance, given your almost complete lack of sentimentality,” and here she made a face at Pidge, “but I suppose we’re all dealing with high emotions right now.”

Pidge didn’t know how to reply. So far, Matt was the only one who had realized her crush on Lance and he’d been thankfully quiet since. The whole day left her feeling off-center, especially with what Romelle now wanted her to confess. Pidge didn’t want to talk about her feelings. She wanted to take her bayard and carve the jealousy and affection and misery right out of her chest.

Romelle took her silence as a sign to go on. “Look, I know we are not close, but you can talk to me.” The expression on her face was so eager that Pidge didn’t immediately protest. “You are… not kind. Not always, at least, but genuine.” Romelle hurried through her words. “Which is more than can be said about others I’ve met since arriving on Earth. And I can see how much you care for Allura, though you hide it beneath your sarcasm and reluctance.”

“Has anyone on Earth given you trouble?” Pidge chose to focus on the subject that was easier to approach. Romelle clearly knew what she was doing, because the blonde gave her a very annoyed look. “The team and I have tried to shield you from the politics of having non-humans around, but it’s not always possible.”

“I grew up worshipping a man who turned out to be harvesting quintessence from the bodies of my family and friends,” Romelle stated coolly. “I can handle the Terrans.”

“Well, this thing has to go both ways.” Pidge leaned back against the booth to gesture forcefully in the other’s direction. “If you want me to talk to you, then you need to talk to me.”

Romelle seemed to consider this, her eyes narrowed. “Fair enough.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder, then leaned forward. “I know we both want what’s best for Allura, but I hope you will be happy, too.”

Her eagerness brought a small smile to Pidge’s lips, even as her chest constricted with the acknowledgement of her feelings.

There were many things in the universe that she valued more than romance: her family, her intellect and ability to continue learning, and now her friends. Pidge would do anything to keep them safe and content, regardless of how she felt about Lance. She would eventually get over him, of this Pidge was sure.

She loved Lance, but she loved herself more.

“I don’t need a boy to be happy, Romelle. I just want this war to be over.”

The blonde nodded at her response. “You have already done so much for me by going against Lotor.” She sighed. “You will always have my loyalty for that.”

Pidge took a moment to study her. Romelle could be energetic and joyful, but she had also suffered more loss than Pidge could really comprehend. She had never believed Matt and her father were dead, even on the early days of the Garrison’s declaration. Hope had moved her forward, but Romelle hadn’t had that privilege.

“Have I ever told you how I became a paladin?” she asked, much to Romelle’s surprise.

“I don’t believe so, no.” The other furrowed her brows in puzzlement. “Are you changing the subject again?”

“I was just thinking that we have more in common than you know.” Pidge lowered her eyes to the tabletop, tracing a series of scratches with the tip of her fingers. “You have met my brother Matt, haven’t you?”

Allura approached as she said this, a tray of food balanced on her hand. “Oh, has Romelle heard of your search for Matt?”

Pidge stood up to help Allura place the coffee without spilling it and grinned at her friend’s enthusiasm. “I was just about to tell her.”

The princess sat down next to Romelle and put her hands to her chest in a show of sympathy. “It is a lovely story, please go on.”

With a laugh, she did.

#voltron #plance #lidge #pidgance #flirtyrobot #cyance #voltron legendary defender #vld #katie holt #pidge gunderson #vld lance #lance mcclain #vld fanfiction #vld syl verse

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honeybeeadventures · 3 years

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ALICE IN BORDERLAND || a honeybeeadventures review

FULL DISCLOSURE: This review may be a little bit biased and that's gonna have to be okay this time because boy, do I LOVE this show.

If you're a fan of foreign tv shows and you haven't heard of Alice in Wonderland by now, then you may be living under a rock. This show, which premiered during the holiday season of the treacherous year known as 2020, is Netflix's most popular live-action adaptation to date. Yes, that's right, adaptation. That is because Alice in Borderland is based on the manga of the same name written and illustrated by Haro Aso.

This time, I will try to hold back all of my spoilers since this show is full of twists and turns and honestly, deserves a blank first impression going into it. I want to make sure that everyone who watches this show because of my review gets to experience it fully without my recapping the events haha. I will try to summarize without ruining anything, though.

Alice In Borderland is a Netflix Japan Original Adaptation of the manga that bears its namesake by Haro Aso which originally ran from April 2011 to April 2016. The show premiered on Netflix on December 10, 2020, and just 14 days later, a second season was confirmed by Netflix.

The show follows Arisu Ryohei and his friends after they witness fireworks in the middle of the day and are dropped into another world where most of the people in Shibuya are gone and the only way to survive is to risk their lives playing games that extend their visas and their right to live in that world. Every game is treacherous and usually ends with a loss of life, though some games do have finite solutions that can save players and preserve their well-being. Along the way, Arisu ( a name which is the Japanese way of pronouncing Alice, by the way ) meets a cast of characters that will seem fairly familiar to you if you've ever seen, read, or really have ever even heard of Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carrol or any of its adaptations.

I typically talk about diversity when I review shows, however, as this is a Japanese show, it's not really fair or easy to judge them on that metric because of course, everyone in the show is Japanese ( as they should be since the manga is set in Tokyo ). However, I will say that in the show, there is a character who says that everyone is free to sleep with whoever they want, no matter what gender and there is also a character that is a part of the Alphabet Mafia ( LGBTQIA+ ... I should make a glossary for this blog lol ). While only one ( confirmed ) members of the Alphabet Mafia isn't a lot, it is based on a manga, and considering the manga is written/illustrated by a Japanese man who was in his 30s at the time, I'm gonna chalk that up as the progressiveness of Haro Aso while still wanting to keep his audience.

Now, down to what you really came here for. I'll list the scores below before we get into why I gave them these scores.

Originality of Content: 8/10

Production Quality: 9/10

Resolution: 6/10

Acting/Cast Members: 10/10

Ability to Keep Interest: 10/10

Provocation: 8/10

Obviously, this show did really well by my standards, and here's the breakdown so you can see why.

Originality of Content: 8/10

If we're being honest here, Alice in Borderland definitely isn't the first manga/anime based on the premise of playing a game to survive or get somewhere in the world ( see: Kakegurui, No Game: No Life, .hack//, Gamble Fish, etc. or Rengoku Dead Role which is actually...very similar to AIB ). However, despite this, it still feels like there's some strong originality brought to this concept. Combining the Japanese love for games and a classical western story gives Alice In Borderland just what it needs to easily become a fan favorite. As someone who really favors game-based anime and manga ( because I really favor game design ), I think that the way that Alice In Borderland is a refreshing nod to the genre.

There's a couple of reasons for this but I'll boil it down to just two. The first is that it's not predictable. The issue with a lot of the game-based animes that I'm familiar with is that they are fairly predictable since most games work the same way, but with Alice In Borderland that is different. The rules to each game that is played seem so simple that they seem deceptive but they also seem complex in the way that a riddle is simple yet complex. Every answer that first comes to your mind is probably going to be wrong and you need to think about it more deeply than that. Sometimes, when the rules of the game were being explained, I found myself wanting to pause to see if I could figure out the solution of the game, too, as I watched Arisu think of it, as well.

The second reason is that Alice In Borderland keeps things fresh with its cast of characters. Rather than some characters being evil because that's 'just the way they are', Alice In Borderland really speaks to the effect of the pressure that is put on young people to succeed and how that can end up in them being more mentally lost than they were, to begin with. It also highlights struggles with gender identity, self-worth, complex family relationships, and living up to one's potential. It does this in such a way that even when a character is downright evil, such as Niragi ( IYKYK), there is almost a feeling of pity for them. This isn't because you sympathize with their actions but more so because it isn't difficult to see how the pressure of life turned them into this monster that you are now watching there. I also enjoyed the fact that there wasn't as much dramatic irony in this show as in many others. While dramatic irony is never a necessarily bad thing, it was nice to genuinely be surprised when a character did something instead of knowing that someone was plotting behind someone else's back.

Production Quality: 9/10

This is a statistic that comes with an asterisk of context and that context is that before this, I had been watching Uchu Sentai Kyuranger and if you know what the production quality of that is like then you understand how it may have influenced this show's score a bit. Even without the comparison fallacy of the two, though, AIB scores high in production quality for one reason more than any other to me. For a show with a lot of blood and death, I wasn't unwilling to believe that these people had actually died. Yes, I'm sure that no actors were harmed in the making of this series, however, if I was a little more naive, I might've doubted that a bit. After all, Live Action adaptations are definitely not known for their believability. I will give AIB the benefit of the doubt in saying that this concept wasn't that difficult to pull off since most of the injuries were similar to what you'd expect on your typical action movie set ( compared to...you know...something involving sci-fi or fantasy) but even in the scenes where people get their necks blown off by explosive collars, it looked like they were nearly decapitated...the way that you would expect if someone's neck was blown off by an explosive collar. All in all, if you want to believe it, you will. It's definitely not a hard stretch.

Resolution: 6/10

Okay, okay, so if you've read the manga or have even glanced at the r/AliceInBorderlandLive subreddit then you know this is kind of an unfair score since...well, they're not done. There's more to the story and the eight episodes that we've seen thus far are only about a third of what AIB has to offer since the manga has two sequels, one of which will be finished on Feb. 18 of this year. However, I will see that statement and raise it with "What if it hadn't been such a great success?" I'm all for ending on cliffhangers to force the network or in this case, Netflix to continue your show but since the first season of AIB covers so much of the storyline, it almost feels wrong to end it short the way that it did. I did like how they had the big reveal of the villain at the end and the way they showed what was coming next but it did feel a little anti-climactic when I realized I was on the last episode since it seemed more like a mid-season break type end instead of a season finale. Since there is a sequel to AIB, I wasn't feeling too discouraged but it's definitely something to think about when watching. If you don't plan on reading the manga, you might be left content starving and questioning until sometime near the end of 2021.

Acting/Cast Members: 10/10

If I was just scoring this show on acting, then it would've gotten an all-kill because each and every single actor in this show from the side characters like Nijiro Murakami and Dori Sakurada to Kento Yamazaki who plays Arisu himself is beyond talented and amazing. It is important to remember that all of the characters in this show had a life before they were transported to the Borderland and in this twisted world, something about the changes that make them different than before so in a way, these actors are responsible for not only playing the characters but also the characters past selves before this growth period in which they change into something either completely opposite or completely different than who they were before.

Somehow, this cast manages to take characters that are already so established ( in the manga ) and become them to the point that looking at them within the role and looking at them outside of the role, it almost seems as if they are really two completely different people. As I said before, some of the characters in Alice In Borderland have a correlation to characters from Alice in Wonderland and have their own unique backgrounds on top of that. This gives to the depth of the characters and makes them dynamic but on top of that, it makes them complex, and yet, these actors seem to have the act of embodying these characters down so well that it astonishes me to see them in other roles and know that it's the same person.

I'll be breaking down my three favorite performances to give you a bit of insight on the reason why this show's cast is well-worth looking into.

Dori Sakurada as Niragi Suguru

So let's be honest here, as much as we all like to pretend that we're immune to someone being attractive just because they also prove to be an awful person, but if we're being honest with ourselves, we're not and I am most certainly no exception to that rule. Dori Sakurada is a handsome man whose good looks are only matched in quality by his amazing acting skills. If you're familiar with his work then you know exactly what I'm talking about and if you're not, then I'd recommend watching 3B no Koibito ( Available with English subs on Youtube ) or Scum's Wish ( Available on Rakuten Viki ) to get an idea of how varied this man's acting skills are. In AIB, he plays a character that is somewhat villainous and can almost be classified as your stereotypical movie sociopath. Yet, still, there's something intriguing beyond just his good looks. Dori Sakurada's performance breaths new air into the lungs of the character of Niragi by not only becoming the villain but also, by picking up the mannerisms and master gestures associated with the character that make him such a memorable part of the story. I haven't seen Dori's full Filmography but the character I have seen outside of AIB are a complete left turn from this character which makes me think that the casting director at Netflix Japan needs a raise for having chosen someone who looks so sweet to be such a villain.

Nijiro Murakami as Chishiya Shuntaro

When it comes to characters that become scene-stealers, Chishiya Shuntaro is definitely one of them. This character is so powerful that I, even, named my cat after him. That is a fact of which I am not ashamed. From the second episode of the show, when we are first introduced to him, he becomes an integral part of the framework of the game he is involved in and it is obvious that we will see him again. That being said, there is no way to word Murakami's performance besides 'integral' as my friend put it, "I literally could not imagine anyone else playing this character." As Chishiya, Murakami takes on such a life and ease in the character that it's almost difficult to believe that the sly facial expressions paired with his nonchalant air are not in his nature and are, in fact, something that he donned for the role. I look forward to seeing not only more of Murakami as this character but exploring more of his filmography in general.

Aya Asahina as Hikari Kuina

Kuina as a character is someone that the protagonist does not meet until a few episodes into the show but when it comes to backstories and characters with rich personalities, she shines compared to a lot of other characters I have seen like her. I won't spoil her backstory for you since she's definitely someone who represents something that's a little bit rarer in stories from more reserved cultures but she definitely deserved a mention in this category due to her amazing acting skills and her flawless stunt scenes.

Ability to Keep Interest: 10/10 || Provocation: 8/10

While the rest of my stats got their own individual evaluation, these are going to be combined and the reason for this is because they have the same reasons for their scores. As I mentioned before, Alice In Borderland takes a new spin on the 'play games to live' genre that is so common amongst anime and manga and for that reason, it was able to keep my interest so much so I finished watching it over the course of two days. It was also a deeply thought-provoking situation because the nature of the games and the backgrounds of the characters forced me to think up my own games and my own ideas of where the characters whose backstories are not explained could've come from. That being said, a lot of the thoughts that the show provoked did end up becoming depressing, especially after reading the manga because I discovered that some games could not have had a better outcome due to their simple rules and that made me very sad because even if I am not attached to or fond of a character, I still do not enjoy their downfall.

Overall: 8.5 = DING! DING! DING! WE HAVE A KEEPER!

Overall, I enjoyed Alice In Borderland enough to have rewatched it one and a half times since I first watched it a few weeks ago. As someone who rarely goes back to shows that involve plot twists and suspense because I already know what's going to happen, that really says a lot for not just the storyline but also the acting and amazing intricacies that are in the show. I still feel like each time I watch it, I glean some new detail or fact that I hadn't thought of before and I come to understand the games a bit more with each passing scene or episode. I also feel that the more I rewatch the show, the more I sympathize with even the villains and come to value and understand their motivations and roles. 8.5 out of 10. I WOULD RECCOMMEND.

Thanks for reading!!

#alice in borderland #aib review #alice in borderland review #tv show review #netflix review #alice in borderland netflix #nijiro murakami #dori sakurada #niragi suguru #chishiya #chisiya shuntaro #kuina hikari #aya asahina #kento yamazaki #kakegurui

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hs-devote · 3 years

Text

19. A F T E R T A S T E

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter;

Everything went creepy silence along with Anne’s deafening scream. She blinked softly, lolling her head towards her boyfriend. She didn’t know why she was smiling like nothing happened. The last thing she knew, she smelt her own blood soaking her face as her breath slackened.

19. AFTERTASTE

He never knew he would en route to a hospital when he was on holiday. The forty-five minutes drive from a suburb to the city centre was a critical moment he had ever experienced. He could be a little relieved that the traffic seemed not that bad and hope they could make it on time, or else, he couldn't imagine anything worse. He never thought he could lay his hand off of a girl, let alone his girlfriend. He didn't know what demons summoned him and made him harmed his lover. The important thing was, all was his work. Not Marcel. Purely his anger boiling his blood and he let it controlled him.

The accident was just a few hours ago, and of course it was still fresh in his mind. He remembered clearly when Anne caught them and screaming like a mad woman. At that moment, his lover had lost consciousness. It was like he had just been thrown by a bucket of cold water and woke him up from the fact that his hands were covered by fresh blood.

He remembered Anne shoved him away and tried to wake Y/N up. His mother was rushed to call Niall at the time while he was just silent standing in the corner watching the scene unfolded before his eyes. He was standing like a complete idiot when Anne yelled him to do something, yet he didn't bother to move his body. He saw with his own eyes his best friend made an appearance; shocked by the state of the woman in his arms. His ears were ringing as he watched his mother tell his best friend what she just saw, only for him to got a sharp glance from Niall before he immediately carried Y/N's body out.

And they left him alone.

Only to make him realise what he had done.

He was smacked by reality when he saw his hands. Wet and dirty of the blood. Behind his head, he could feel Marcel was scoffing out of his consciousness.

See. Who's the monster now, Harry? I never thought to hurt her, you know? Maybe you're the demon, not me.

It took him fifteen minutes to call his mother. And thanks to God, she was willing to pick up the call and told him where they took his girlfriend. Knowing the hospital was in the city centre, he immediately ran to his car and drove as fast as he could.

And now, here he was.

When he arrived, it was almost midnight, and the hospital was less crowded. This time, Anne didn't answer his call so he didn't know where his lover was. Surely, they would take her to the ER. But, this hospital had a few ER and he didn't know which one Y/N was in.

To be honest, his heart was racing rapidly since he had this wild thought spinning around his head. What if she had serious bleeding? What if it caused a traumatic effect? Or the worst, he could have killed her.

His steps were unsteady and full of fear as he passed each room, his eyes reading every single signboard. Hoping to find where the ER was. He couldn't count for Anne because he was sure that his mother was mad with him now. Then, his feet stopped when he saw the room he was looking for was at the end of the hall. Yet, no one was there.

Where were his mother and Niall?

His steps felt heavy when he wanted to get closer, his body was sweating. However, his breath seemed to stop when he saw the door being opened showing a doctor pulling a bed from inside with a body completely covered with a white blanket from head to toe, with the help of several nurses beside the bed.

At that very second, Harry felt his world was crumbling.

His world slowed down only for his eyes to witness something before his eyes.

Harry felt numb, body frozen like a statue and every time he tried to speak or opened his mouth, he had no strength or nothing could come out of his mouth. No, he did nothing. Definitely nothing, until just the ER doors were on his view. He no longer saw the stifling sight.

At that very moment, he just realised that he lost his love.

Forever.

. . . . The last time he cried was when he lost Igor. On that day, Harry felt everything around him had faded away. Everything was gloomy and hollow. There was a feeling of regret in his heart for not being to able to keep his father company on his last days. But this time, his feeling was hundreds percent worse because he knew, Y/N lost her life because of him.

Guilt.

Fear.

Anger.

Regret.

Emptiness.

All drained his feelings and tears. He didn't know how long he had been in this chapel, poured out his heart in sob to God. Only in this place he could find peace – for a moment. He knew maybe right now God was angry with him, but he didn't know who else would listen to him.

His eyes shut closed, his head lowered letting his tears fall down soaked his crucifix necklace that was gripped tightly between his joining hands. The way his shoulders shaking when he pronounced her name in his prayer, Harry couldn't endure the pain and devastation that was eating him away.

He kept praying until he felt his tears were running out and felt a little better. And when he stepped out from the chapel, he tried to brace himself and find Anne. He was resigned if after this his mother would be furious with him. Because he deserved it.

Harry walked unsteadily with swollen eyes, seeing the hospital was still quiet even though it was already dawn. Along the corridor, his mind was out of the place as he clutched his mobile phone tightly, tried to call Anne but wasn't answered. Then, his mind started to realise the fact he had to call Brenda and Calvin that their daughter was gone.

“Harry.”

His eyes found his mother was standing a few meters in front of him, looking all tired and sleep-deprived.

“Where have you been?” He cleared his throat, “I was on the chapel before I get here.”

Anne sighed, “I was looking for you, Harry. Come with me, you have to see Y/N's condition.”

What?

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Mum, you must be joking. Y/N.. Y/N.. she's gone." he stopped because the stinging sensation burnt his eyes, he could no longer bear tears. "I.. I saw they took her body. They had a white blanket that covered her body. Death took her away."

“Harry– ” “I couldn't even say goodbye, mum. I had no chance to say I love her.” he whispered, “She's gone because of me. I killed her. I– ”

“Harry, she's alive!”

Once again, he chuckled while laughing mockingly. “Mum, please. I just killed her, you saw– ” He startled when Anne grabbed his hand and dragged him with her, he didn't know where she would take him. However, they stopped in front of an ICU. From the small window at the door, he could see Y/N was lying unconscious with the help of oxygen mask and wires stuck in her body.

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing now. His love that he thought had left him, was surviving with the help of medical machines. He unconsciously pinched his arm and thanking God that this was all real and not only his delusion.

But, how could?

“She was bleeding heavily in the head and doctors had to take surgery to save her. She was past the critical period and according to them, she would wake up by the midday." Anne mumbled in her breath, "You could visit her but only ten minutes in each visiting hours."

“How can this be real?” Harry whispered, “I saw the doctors pulled someone out of the ER covered with blanket and I thought it was her. Because I thought she was the only one in there.”

“I think you were seeing the wrong person, H. They did perform the surgery in the ER and after the surgery was successful, they transferred her to this room.”

Harry didn't say anything, his eyes were still staring closely at his girlfriend with full of emotion, happiness, and relief. Deep down in his heart, he thanked God for the miracle. Even he couldn't say anything to express his gratitude and was given the chance to atone for all his behaviour.

Slowly, he stepped away and sat down on a chair not far from here. He leaned back, raising his head, and closed his eyes briefly to digest what had happened in the twenty-four hours. When someone tapped his shoulder, he immediately opened his eyes and saw Anne sitting beside him.

“Care to explain?”

The way Anne asked him in a soft yet worried tone surprised him a bit. He didn't expect his mother would be so calm and rational as to ask him what exactly happened.

“We were having a fight. And that was all my fault. I knew she was trying to help me, to fix me because she cares about me so much. But, I thought that everything she did was wrong. All of them. I called her a liar because she was kinda lying about Niall to me. Then I told her I didn't need her help to fix me. We started to scream at each other, she admitted she was tired of my lack behaviour and all the problems." he began, "Which I understand because I know how hard she tried to help me, with everything."

“And why did you hurt her, Harry? This is not like Harry I know..”

“Uh," his nervousness increased, "I called her.. slut. She was furious. Then she said all of this mess is because of my behaviour. Because of my .. disorder."

He never thought he would honestly tell his mother about his disorder in this way. He could no longer hide this matter. He didn't want other problems to arise because of the things he hid. Anne herself frowned at what her son just said.

“Pardon?”

But, he couldn't be honest about everything.

“I have an anger issue which I can't control my temper easily.” he lied, “That's why I couldn't take what she said to me. It angered me so much that made me hit her. I was blinded by my emotion.”

“You know what, Harry? I'm so mad at you that I can't even show it. I can't imagine what would happen if we were late. I can't imagine how her parents will feel.” she sighed, “Even I don't know what to do with you. You're an adult and you should be aware of all your actions.”

“I'm sorry mum. I know what I did was a huge mistake that nothing can fix it."

“Don't. Apologise to Y/N, to her family.”

“Where's Niall? I don't see him around.” asked Harry, “I also have to apologise to him.”

“He left earlier because I asked him for help to transferred Y/N to the St. Thomas once she gets better." his mother answered, "We couldn't possibly let her out of our sight."

“Oh, Harry. I think you should call her parents and tell them what happened. I believe Y/N will feel better if her parents come."

. . . . Brenda was screaming when she got the news from Harry. The man himself swore that his girlfriend's mother cried on the phone before she gave the phone to Calvin. He didn't explain to them what exactly happened, he only said that Y/N had an accident and her head injury made her ended in ICU.

Later that afternoon, Brenda and Calvin made an appearance in hurry. And surprisingly, Connor came with them. This was the first time Harry met Y/N's brother in person.

Harry was a bit relieved when Calvin and Brenda weren't suspicious of him. But on the other hand, Connor was throwing a sceptical look on him.

Y/N regained consciousness an hour after her family arrived, with her parents by her side. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was her parents, and it made Harry feel touched. Of course he wanted to be the first person that Y/N saw but that was impossible for now. He knew she would hate him after this.

"What actually happened, Harry?” Connor finally opened his mouth, “You didn't tell us what exactly the accident was.”

“She.. fell.”

“Fell?” Connor arched his eyebrow, “Just.. fell?” Harry didn't speak any further.

“If she just fell, why did she hit her head?” Connor scoffed, “I'm a paramedic, don't lie to me.”

“She fell in the bathroom and hit her head on the toilet bowl. When she wanted to stand again, her legs weakened and made her fell and hit the wall.”

Liar..

The sound of the door opening made Connor discouraged from strafing Harry with lots of questions. Brenda and Calvin came out of the room relieved yet confused faces.

“How's her Mum? Dad?" Connor asked waiting for his parents to come to sit with him.

“She looks tired and restless, but she's okay.” Calvin began, “The doctor says she will be fine. But..”

“But?" Connor repeated his father word with a raised eyebrow. Meanwhile, Harry was only listening from afar. His attention was distracted when his mother came and brought him a drink.

“She lost a little of her memory.”

Harry was flabbergasted when Brenda softly said that. No way Y/N lost her memory. The doctor said nothing when he finished examining her. Anne who sat next to him just rubbed his shoulder; giving him moral support.

“But the doctor said nothing earlier?” Connor squeaked.

“It's because we said so. He told us that inside after checking her. He said no need to worry as it's only temporary and she will gain her memory back in a few days. The last thing she remembers is when we were celebrating Christmas together."

“She hit her head pretty hard so it made her lost her memory a little.”

Harry didn't know whether to feel relieved or uneasy. It was meant Y/N forgot about their fight and the accident and would act like nothing happened. But, in a few days, she would remember everything. And maybe, it would make her hate him.

“Harry.”

He lifted his head, finding Brenda who gave him a small smile.

“Brenda.” he rose up from his seat, nodding his head slightly.

“Thank you. I don't know what would happen if you were late bringing her to the hospital. Thank you for looking after her while waiting for us to come."

“You don't need to thank me, Brenda. I'm the one who should apologise for not being able to take care of her until she had to have this accident.” he said softly, “I'm sorry for being careless.”

“After all, this was an accident, nothing intentional. No one wants this, Harry." Calvin chimed in, "And for Mrs Styles, thank you for the help for our daughter transferred to London. At least we can stay at her apartment if she's hospitalised there."

“No need to thank me, Mr Y/L/N. It will be easier for all of us to look after her if she's in London.” Anne smiled, “If Y/N feels better, she can be transferred. Of course with your permission.”

“Of course. We will also tell her first.” Brenda nodded, “I hope she gets better soon.”

. .

. . The second day being hospitalised, Y/N hadn't gained her memory back yet. She was being her normal behaviour towards Harry, but it made him even more guilty. He let Brenda and Calvin having more time with their daughter because he knew Y/N needed her parents most. During that too, he took the chance to call his lawyer – asking for the progress. He also secretly monitoring the company under Lucas' control. He could breathe a little relieved since his cousin was able to gradually lobby their clients to work with Erskine again.

Plus, Dale Jespersen had been successfully arrested and the trial will be held soon. Before that, he would meet both Dale and Victoria tomorrow in London to asking for an explanation for their crimes.

“Where have you been?"

Harry smiled softly hearing Y/N's voice after he shut the door. Her parents had returned to Swansea and would come again to accompany their daughter after she was transferred to London. They also have to prepare because they would stay in London for a few days.

“My client called me. I didn't want to bother you so..” he shrugged, “How are you feeling, darling?” he stepped closer, sitting on the edge of her bed. His hand raised to stroke her hair.

“Much better,” she smiled, “I can't wait to get home.”

“Well, I'm afraid you have to be still hospitalised for another few days." he smiled softly, "We'll move you to London in two or three days, tops. But, I have to go back to London tomorrow morning and probably will be back the day after tomorrow morning. Is it okay? I have to check for your preparations. Mum will stay here, though."

“Why?” she frowned, “I'm feeling better now, why must still stay in the hospital?”

“Because,” he sighed, “The doctor still has to observe your condition for the next few days, especially your head. No need to worry, your parents will come and keep you company.”

She bit her lip before nodding, then smiled softly as Harry kissed her hair. But, her smile faded when she saw her boyfriend looked gloomy and restless.

“Is something happen? You look.. off?” Y/N let her free hand rubbed his knuckle, “I'm sorry if I made you restless.”

“I was scared, Y/N. I thought I lost you. I was scared of losing you forever." he stammered, "I thought I would be alone.. again."

“Harry..” whispered her, “I'm fine. I'm here and fine. No need to worry, H.”

“Yeah, I know.” he chuckled, “And I'm grateful for that. You're safe and sound in here, with me.” “See?” she giggled, “Now, I'm hungry. Do you think I can eat anything but hospital catering?”

Harry could only laugh, ruffled her hair affectionately.

For now, he felt happy. But, tomorrow and beyond, he wasn't sure if they could get this close. He should make good use of this valuable time.

. . . .

Harry didn't know how to feel. Yet, he was fuming when Dale blatantly revealed his intention, coupled with Victoria's unbelievable confession. Good for him that Allen was there, he nearly punched Dale in the face if only his lawyer didn't hold him back. Elle with both her lawyer and manager were also there, witnessing the confession being unfolded before them. The model couldn't understand why her best friend did that. All she did was just scoffed whenever Victoria bawled her eyes out and asking for forgiveness, which that Elle and Harry couldn't give her.

Not only Dale and Victoria as the main perpetrator, but they also sued every single media Dale paid for bringing the scandal up. Many things had lost, not only money but also the dignity and reputation that have been tarnished in the public eye.

At least, Harry was a little relieved.

The only thing that still weighing in his heart and mind is, Y/N.

He didn't know when she would get her memory back, and how. But, if the day came, he didn't know what to do.

On the other hand, he was feeling empty after the incident. Marcel never came back since that night, even as if he didn't feel him anymore. Nothing was blocking his soul. It felt weird. There was no way that Marcel just disappeared.

Today, Y/N will be moved to London. Harry ensured that his girlfriend would get the best treatment by moving her to one of the best hospitals in the city. After meeting Dale and Victoria yesterday, he didn't have time to return to the hospital since it was late. He spent all day trying to force Dale to open his mouth and confess what he had done. And at the first in the morning, he rushed back to the hospital.

The hospital wing was so quiet, only a few nurses passed by. When he reached her room, he peeked through the window and didn't see his mother, only Y/N left alone was lying in her bed. Slowly, he opened the door and walked in. After making sure the door closed well, he stepped in and took a vacant chair next to her bed. He drew a small smile looking at his sleeping girlfriend. His hand carefully raised to stroke her hair, yet a little surprised when Y/N immediately opened her eyes.

“Hi,” Harry grinned, hands still stroking her hair, “How are you?” But, Y/N didn't answer him right away. She sighed, blinked her eyes then tilted her head to him. “Fine, I guess.”

“Does your head still hurt? We're going back to London today.” he hummed, “Well, but you still need to be hospitalised.” “No.”

Well, that was short.

Y/N pulled up her head again, her view now was the television in front of her. Her face still pale just like yesterday, but somehow looked different. Harry didn't get it but he felt something different.

“Where's mum? I didn't see her outside either.”

“Out.”

Harry frowned.

“You bored, didn't you? Well, I promise you'll be discharged soon but your head still needs observation for a few more days. I–”

“Harry..”

Now, Y/N tilted her head again to him. Her dull eyes gave him a sharp look with hundreds of emotion that she couldn't show. She didn't smile, her mouth was flat without any kind of pleasantly. Harry's smile faded as if he understood the gaze he was receiving. His hand that had been on her head gradually pulled back and returned to his lap.

“Why did you do that?”

Her voice barely just as a whisper yet it jolted him so much. The way she stared at him was only giving him confirmation that she got her memory back. Harry didn't know how to answer, all he did was shut his mouth. He felt his palm became sweaty and the air getting tense.

“Yes I got my memory back,” she confirmed his thought, “I remember how I ended up here. And it's the worst memory in my life.”

“You haven't answered my question." she opened her mouth after her boyfriend left her unanswered for two minutes. Harry himself didn't know where to start, even his brain couldn't function properly now. Many thoughts were racing in his head when he tried to open his mouth.

Licked his lips, he opened his mouth briefly before closing them again. He was completely baffled.

“I apologise for the animalistic behaviour towards you. It was very wrong for me to harm you that night." he sighed, lowering his head. He couldn't bear to look at her eyes now. The immense guilt and shame-filled his heart and mind.

“My question is why. I didn't ask for an apology, did I?”

He felt like a coward now.

“I was hurt by what you said that night. I felt betrayed by everything. I saw everything was gone wrong." he spoke, "I was hurt about the fact that... the unexpected thing between you and Marcel. I couldn't... I couldn't think properly since everything was vague for me.”

Silent.

“Which is where I should be able to control it all." Harry looked nervous, he didn't dare to look at Y/N. Instead, his bare fingers seemed more interesting than looking at her beautiful eyes. "I couldn't take that you said I'm disorder, I couldn't take the fact that you went behind my back with Marcel. But, that's the truth. I'm a disorder. You didn't go behind my back since I and Marcel are the same person. No matter how much I hate him, I have to accept the fate that we can't be separated. He has been with me as long as I live.”

“First of all, Harry.” she sighed, “It was very wrong for me to called you disorder. That was.. rude, I know. Then about Marcel. I should know how you would feel, I should know you would know. That was a mistake. And I'm sorry for everything that hurt you. You were fragile, and I should aware.”

Harry murmured, "None of them was your fault, darling. They are all my consequences."

“But, Harry. I've been thinking since last night.” she averted her gaze to the television ceiling and closed her eyes for a moment, “I can't accept what you did to me. All the yelling and screaming, it was enough. But, the violence.. it's not.”

“I just realised that I can't take it any more. I'm hurt, I'm exhausted. I can't deal with someone who's..” she scrunched her face, “.. abusive.”

His heart sank when the sentence slipped out of her mouth. Abusive? Was he abusive? His mind wandered back to that night. The night where he pushed her, hitting her head with a sharp object, and slammed her head against the wall. He realised he was abusing someone he loved which he shouldn't. He seemed to have just realised that the hand that had just stroked her hair, almost killed the woman before him. Yet, that was the same hand that Marcel use to kill his victim.After all, it was the hand of a killer. What did he expect?

You weren't so different from me, Harry

"I thought I could handle it, I thought I was brave enough to fit with your world. I thought I could hold on and help you. But, I was wrong." she whispered, "I barely can handle it. I was too brave and confident. I couldn't help you at all."

“What do you mean?" he ventured to ask. He couldn't think since his mind was too foggy.

“When you told me about your secret, I promised myself that I will help you as much as I can. With your perfect and imperfection, I brace myself to help you. And after all of these, I feel like.. I was wrong. I failed you. And you need to find someone to help you more. Someone you can trust."

Now, Y/N had her eyes on him. Looking at her boyfriend with teary eyes. The look on her eyes softened now, she bit her lips from wavering too much.

“I'm sorry, but.. I don't understand?” he lied. He clearly understood what did she mean. He just needed one more clarification to confirm what he had in head. He didn't dare to say it since it was to bitter to spit it out. Harry believed that his face was pale, his heart was too jittery to hear what was next.

“A break up will do us a favour, H." she stammered, "You need to find someone better than me, because I'm nothing. You will find someone who loves you unconditionally and maybe.. someday will fix you."

Harry looked at her just like she had grown out a second head. Nothing he understood. A break-up?

Even he couldn't say anything, he was speechless, he didn't know how to react. But, it made him think. Everything they went through together, everything they had for a year relationship, was all ruined by him. If he were a normal person, it would have all been different.

She wasn't wrong. It was him.

“I'm sorry, H. I–”

“It's okay, I understand." he chuckled, "I should have understood from the beginning. Why would someone be with me?"

“Harry, I don't mean– ”

“I respect your decision. It's your right, I cannot forbid you.” he gave her a modest smile, then getting up from his chair. He slowly took off his cross necklace and putting it around Y/N neck. After the necklace was perfectly clasped, he carefully lowered her head only to kiss her head for the last time. He took a moment to let his feelings poured out. Little did Y/N know, Harry was holding back from letting his tears falling down.

“It's funny to think that we break up exactly on our a year anniversary.” he chuckled, sniffled a bit before wiping away the tears at the corner of his eyes.

A year?

Y/N frowned a bit, how came it had been a year?

“Yes, today it's our a year anniversary if you don't remember. But, this is the most unexpected gift to celebrate.”

She didn't how to say.

“Seems you lost that memory, eh?" he joked before shaking his head. Once again, he smiled. Bringing his face closer to kiss her cheek before disappearing behind the door. But, the last sentence that came out from his mouth caught her off guard.

“One thing that you should know. No matter what happens, I'll always love you. Even someday your heart isn't mine any more."

. . . .

Harry never came back after the last word he left for Y/N. Anne returned to her room not long after her son left Y/N. Her ex-boyfriend mother didn't say anything about Harry which she assumed his arrival was unknown to his mother.

Even when she was transferred to London, Harry didn't show up. It was just her and Anne in her room, waiting for her parent's arrival. To be honest, Y/N was already bored in the hospital, but she couldn't deny the headache which still hammering her head several times. Sometimes she could endure it, but there were times she had to grimace because it was hurt so much.

“Brenda text me she'd be here in ten minutes.” Anne spoke, “They had to wait for your brother to go together.”

Y/N frowned, “Connor will come?”

“She said he has time off so he'll definitely pay you a visit.”

“Okay.”

Then, her mind wandered to this morning when she decided to let Harry go. It was a lie if she said it didn't hurt her. Her heart was aching when she said those words. A year with him was the most beautiful thing she had felt during all her relationship. All the sweet and bitterness were beyond her expectation. She didn't want their relationship to sink but what Harry did to her was the last strike she would get. She could no longer hold back what was on her heart. She felt she couldn't help with his behaviour any more. She fully understood it was all not what he wanted. But after all, she was just a selfish ordinary human.

Who could stand someone behaves abusively?

She could just hold on and think all was well. Yet, he didn't want to stress herself out when she forced herself to.

Their relationship was only a year. And she ended them exactly a year after they were being official. How unfortunate.

Was it cruel to broke him up on their anniversary?

She didn't even remember today was their anniversary! Call her evil but it was the truth.

If only Harry could hold back his anger and kept his hands away, maybe things would have been different. They might be somewhere in the world to celebrate their relationship and would end in a romantic way. The world wasn't always on our side, however.

And the last sentence he uttered to her, it was like a hard slap on her face. How could he say that he loved her in that kind situation? How could he admitted what was he felt in the bottom of his heart when their relationship was already crumbled?

Harry loved her.

That was the first time he said he loved her, and being the last time.

If he truly loved her, why he let his anger clouded his feelings and cause them to be like this?

If only he told her at the first..

“Y/N.”

She snapped her head when Anne called her name. She was zoned out too long so she didn't realise Anne had been watching her earlier with a concerned look.

“Yeah?”

Anne didn't immediately speak, she exhaled and took Y/N's hands for her to hold.

“I'm sorry for all that my son did to you. I've never.. never expected that he would do that to his own girlfriend.” she paused, “He shouldn't hurt you despite his anger problem.”

“No one would expect that, Anne.” she timidly said, “I just.. it shocked me.”

“I feel guilty for you, for your parents. I didn't know my son very well, even he has an anger disorder I just didn't know.”

Y/N frowned, how did Anne know her son had a disorder. Not an anger disorder to be precise, but one that was far more serious than that. Was it Niall? Or Harry himself?

“However, I also want to thank you for making Harry more cheerful and happier than before. I've never seen him that happy. I just hope he won't change since both of you aren't together anymore.”

How did Anne know that they broke up?

As if answering her question, Anne smiled sadly and nodded, “Harry called after visiting you. He told me everything, even asking me to not bring up that question. He just wants you to recover and not to stress out. He also told me that he won't bother you by coming to the hospital.”

“I'm sorry for bringing that up. I can't help myself." she added, "He also told me that he was sorry and nothing can fix what he did."

“Anne," Y/N whispered, her heart sank to see Anne smiled sadly as the old lady rubbed her teary eyes, "I'm sorry if I made a bad decision, I–"

“I understand, darling. No need to worry. I am just sad that my son sounded sad and helpless. I've never heard him like that." she shook her head, "But, no matter what, you're still part of our family. I'm always here if you want to talk."

Giving Anne a tight smile, Y/N just nodded slowly. They both talked until Brenda and Calvin showed up at her room. Being the polite lady he was, Anne excuse herself to leave the family alone.

. . . .

Harry never felt more relieved in his entire life. Fucking finally, his mortal enemy, the one who made him suffer and down for the last few months – would immediately face his sentence for his action. Upon his arrival at a certain location, without any further do he met Allen to accompany him to meet Dale and Victoria. There was a sense of satisfaction burning him as he walked so confidently to where they were isolated.

There they were.

Sitting in the iron chair, looking all shabby and helpless in their grey uniform. If Victoria's face wasn't visible since she was looking down and letting her hair loose, in contrast to the arrogant Dale who raised his chin highly as if challenging anyone he would face.

“Well, hello there.”

Harry bit his lip, both his hands were tucked in his pocket. He was quite impressed with Dale. Even though there were two guards behind him, Dale was still as arrogant as usual.

“I don't want to mince words. Why are you doing all this?”

Silence.

He exhaled, averted her gaze to his ex-girlfriend who still had her face down. Albeit he was standing feet away from her, he could tell that Victoria was scared. The woman hadn't made the slightest move.

“Why are you helping him, Victoria?”

He pinched his forehead when she didn't answer him. He couldn't understand that the two of them keep their mouth closed. What was that hard to speak or even opening their mouth?

“Don't make this hard. Just answer the damn question!" Harry gritted his teeth. But, seeing these two were still silent, his hands angrily met the table – shocking them both.

“You know what, Harry? You don't deserve all this success and beyond considering who you are. You're still a loser like you were a dozen years ago. Who are you if you're not a Styles?” Dale snickered, “ Who are you behind this luxury and wealth?”

“You would always envy me no matter what. Me being a Styles or not, you will always be.” scoffed Harry, “You should realise, hatred is what makes you fall like this.”

“Fine then,” Harry murmured, “Victoria? Is there anything you would like to say?”

“This stupid girl agreed to help me because she wanted revenge on you. She didn't like the lady of yours and thought she could ruin you both." Dale chuckled, "How romantic. Who would have thought love could blind someone."

“Just if you're jealous of me or something that I have, doesn't mean that's okay to do.” Harry shook his head, “See you in the court.”

Harry didn't need to Dale and Victoria elaborate why they did this. He could draw conclusions, and based on the evidence he received, Dale played pretty well enough to make up everything. Being the mastermind, Dale managed to find someone who knew Harry's past enough to make his plans even smoother. He tricked Victoria into obeying his commands.

Using an alias, he received the weapon, something greater than he thought, and sold them to blow up the scandal. Not only Harry's downfall he was laughing at, but also the amount of money from the tape. The downfall was bigger than he had imagined, and he was very satisfied with it.

And then, there was Victoria.

She paid what she did before. She was awful, yet Harry didn't understand why he could date her at first.

Karma did exist, did it?

But, Harry hadn't got into his car yet when his lawyer rang him again, saying that Dale and Victoria were willing to testify for their guilt.

It seemed he might have a full day to interrogate them. . . . .

It was strange.

Harry felt strange.

Marcel hadn't been back since that night. Even when he was threatening Dale and Victoria, the anger he felt was pure himself. Marcel didn't change their positions, and it astonished him. He felt he was there, but did nothing. He just stood there, hiding but stay alert.

It had been a couple of days, Marcel still didn't want to appear even Harry had tried to persuade by asking him to meet. But still, nothing.

Y/N had also come home and was recovering. He kept his distance, still didn't want to meet her – worried that his presence would disturb her. Harry was a hypocrite if he said he didn't miss her. He truly missed her, so bad. But he knew his positions. They weren't something anymore, and he should leave her a space.

When he was home alone, he sometimes remembered his former lover. So many memories left to unfold in here. His memory forced him to reminisce about their past together.

The first time he saw her when Rita Davies introduce them, Harry didn't have any feeling, just like a boss to his assistant. Then, in the first few weeks they had been working together, Harry acknowledged Y/N's incredible work skill. And gradually, that feeling of amaze blossomed into something different. Something that broke his own promise to not have any romantic ties with someone in the same company. Until finally they were at this point, all of them was leaving deep meaning at the bottom of his heart.

He had never felt so empty, so lost. Only Y/N could make him felt like this, she was the only woman who won his heart and successfully made him fall in love.

He was relieved to let out his guts, the burden on his shoulder had disappeared since he was being honest with Y/N, that he loved her. Of course, he still had this regretful annoying his heart for expressed his feelings at the wrong time.

And now, he was trying to get over his sadness by getting back to work. No, he wasn't simply returning to his company, he had been calling Lucas to monitor all the work. They still had his cousin for being the leader of the company for a while until at least the client regained their trust back for the sake of his company.

Meanwhile, the arrest of Dale and Victoria also helped clear Harry and Elle's good name and reputation. His team made Dale admitted that all of this was his ruse, yet Harry was a kind person and he did this out of hatred. Slowly, everyone understood that in the end, Harry was just a victim.

In time, Erskine got their clients again. What made Harry felt confident again, they started asking about his presence in the company. But still, he needed some time before returning to work as before. Besides, he didn't know if he could work as usual if his assistant wasn't Y/N. Harry wasn't being unprofessional, it was just that he felt like he was compatible with her and they were a solid team. And only her who understood what he wanted in their work. Oh, sweet Y/N. Of course, she wouldn't return to work until her condition got better. However, there was one thing that bothered him. If he had returned to work, as well as with Y/N, could they still work as a team?

Later that night, when Harry was in an online meeting with Lucas and some of their director, someone knocked his office. His eyes found Suzanne was smiling softly at him, “I'm sorry, did I bother you?”

“Uhm, no.” Harry scratched his neck, “What's wrong, Suzanne?”

“Your friend is here." she shrugged, "I've told him that you're on a meeting. But he said it's okay and he wants to wait."

“Who?” Harry squinted, “I don't have any appointment with anyone.”

“It's Niall.”

He stiffened. He didn't know what made Niall come here, and it been a few weeks since the last time he saw him – at the cottage that time. The last thing he remembered from his best friend was a disappointed look. Then, he just nodded as Suzanne excused her self. He ended the meeting immediately and wished them good night since nothing to be discussed anymore. Folding his MacBook, Harry exhaled and rubbed his face before getting up from his leather chair. His steps grew heavier the closer he got to the living room. From a few feet away, he could see Niall was standing facing his big window while enjoying the beautiful view of London. As if Niall could Harry's presence, he turned around and gave a modest smile, "How are you, H?"

His question was simple, but why Harry felt intimidated?

“Honest answer or lies?”

With that, Niall arched his eyebrow. Shaking his head, he took a vacant seat near the window. “I'm not here to judge you. I'm here because you need to talk.”

“I'm between torn and fine.”

“I guess.” he murmured, “Now, I don't want mince words but what's wrong with you? What was in your head to let your hand to did that?”

“Just tell me and I won't interrupt you. I'm all ears.” he added before Harry got the chance to answer him.

“I don't know, Niall.” he sighed, dropping his body onto the couch across Niall. His both hands grasped his head which bent down. “I was very aware when I did that. Marcel wasn't shadowing me. The anger I felt was somewhat different from him. I don't know why I could do that.”

“What kind of anger, Harry?”

"I felt.. betrayed. With everything happened at the same time. I was.. tired, saturated. I felt that.. whatever has been done, it's all useless."

Niall exhaled, leaning to chair with folding his arms. His blue eyes stared intently at his friend. Then, he shook his head gently, “There must be something big. You wouldn't hit your girlfriend if that was all you felt.”

Well, Harry couldn't lie one of the triggers was.. her and Marcel. But, he couldn't be honest about that thing which was so personal, even it was for his own friend. It was better if he changed the topic, no?

“But, Niall. After that accident, Marcel hasn't shown himself yet. I can feel him, I've tried to talk to him. He doesn't even want to show up. That's weird.” Harry stared at Niall anxiously, “What happen?” Now, Niall squinted his eyes. He bit his lip while straightening his posture, “Then, you have to be on alert. We don't know what will he do. But still, control your anger. I'm afraid he will be more dangerous since he doesn't want to talk to you.”

"Something that still bothers me. Why me? Why I was the one who did that? Every time I was angry, it always been Marcel."

"Because your anger wasn't based on your grudge. You were angry because you were afraid to lose everything. Meanwhile Marcel, his anger was to get rid of everything."

“Tell me, H. Have you lost something, already?” . . . .

Harry couldn't count how many weeks it had been. He was back in the office, started working as usual despite Y/N was still absent. Meanwhile, Lucas took over her job until she came back and he would return to the Manchester office. Erskine had started to stabilize and getting clients back.

Harry was also grateful that he still had one meeting scheduled in a day, although previously he could have almost four meetings a day. Thanks to everyone who helped him to get through all of this.

As for now, he just finished a meeting with all of the directors to discuss client progress. When he was about to return to his office, at the same time one of the HR staff was talking to Madeleine – asking his presence.

"Mr Styles? Mrs Martinez wants to see you." Madeleine smiled, glancing at the woman beside her.

Harry nodded at both woman, "Please, come in Sanaa." and invited Mrs Martinez, or he called her Sanaa, to come into his office.

“What's wrong, Sanaa?” asked him after he sat on his chair, giving the woman some time to put a folder on his desk. His attention wasn't on Sanaa since he was looking for his tie bar. But, what Sanaa just said made him froze for a moment.

“Y/N came to meet me this morning and gave her resignation letter.” “Pardon?”

Y/N came here, straight to the HR office to submitted her resignation but she didn't tell him first? Did her hate him too much so she didn't want to meet him?

She should have informed him first, and not immediately submitted her letter. He was still her boss after all.

Straightened his body, Harry gave Sanaa a look for her to elaborate what she just said.

“She said she wants to quit the job and wants to take a break. But, I didn't say anything since I have to give her resignation letter to you first.” Sanaa answered, “She also said, something happened with her head cause her to took extra leave and she's afraid she can't work normally due to her head injury.”

Harry still stared at her like he was seeing a ghost. His brain couldn't proceed what she said, yet slowly his hand took the folder that was lying on his desk. His feelings were messed up when his eyes saw the letter signed by his former girlfriend, stating she was resigning from a company that had given her a lot of experience over the past year.

“Did she say anything else?” he gulped, eyes scanning every single word she wrote.

"No, Mr Styles."

Harry sighed, pinching his nose bridge in frustration, “I'll talk to her first, and let you know after that.”

"Sure. Thank you, Mr Styles."

There was nothing more he could do than a nod. After Sanaa closed his door, he slammed the folder down and let out a huff. He never thought Y/N would make such a decision. Now, what he was afraid of started to eat him alive. She began to pull away from his life. Harry very well understood, but on the other hand, his selfish side didn't want to let it happen.

Taking his mobile phone from his desk, his finger quickly tapped Y/N contact. He took a moment staring at his ex-girlfriend's name whom he had not contacted for a long time. The last time he texted her was when Y/N had returned home, wishing her speedy recovery. He respected her decision by not bothering her with unimportant messages or phone calls. Harry tried to fix his heart by trying not to think about her. Yet, he still watched her from afar without being noticed.

Slowly, he sent her text to meet him in the office – wanting to talk about her resignation. Fortunately, she replied right away. Well, of course, still in a friendly way.

Messages – Now ; amore I'm fine, H.

Oh well, that was short. She couldn't possibly reply to his messages like when they were still together. No pet names, no smiley face, or even kisses. It bothered him a little, accepting the bittersweet reality.

To ; amore I've got your resignation letter earlier. Do you think you can come and discuss this with me first? I'm always available in the office

From ; amore Oh, you're back already?

To ; amore Been a few weeks. Erskine is getting better, soo... From ; amore Oh, wow. Glad to hear that. How about tomorrow?

To ; amore That would be great. You're welcome to come anytime.

From ; amore Thanks, see ya tomorrow.

To ; amore See ya, darling Sorry... I mean Y/N

Harry smacked his head after realising his stupid mistake by calling her with their usual pet names. Y/N was no longer his lover, how could he slip like that?

But, he couldn't lie that was the shortest text he had together with her. Usually, they would throw pet names at each other, send flirting messages, yet that was all gone. He felt a little better because Y/N still wanted to contacted by him.

He hoped that after they talk, she would cancel her decision. Not because Harry wanted to be still in touch with her, but her career was already good here and he didn't want her to give up her career just because of what happened between them. If Y/N wanted, Harry could give her a promotion or move her to another department as long as she still worked with Erskine.

. . . .

It was past lunchtime, but Y/N hadn't shown herself yet. Harry started to feel antsy, worried that she didn't want to see him. His anxiety vanished when Madeleine called him, said Y/N was already in the lounge. Of course he immediately told her to let his former lover come to his office. Nervousness began to eat him away, his hands were sweating and his heart was pounding. The feeling became even more so when he heard the sound of his door being opened. He sighed slowly, and getting up from his leather chair – standing to welcome the person he had missed so much.

There she was.

Looking as beautiful as usual.

She threw a small smile, walked to his desk. Harry was a little stunned, making Y/N waved her palm in front of him. He smiled awkwardly then offering her to sit. For a moment, Harry studied the girl in front of him. She looked like his Y/N, his sweet sweet Y/N. Nothing had changed. Yet, something looked a little different.

“How are you?” Harry looked at her straight in her eyes, his voice was firm but actually he was hiding his nervousness.

Y/N nodded, “I'm fine. Are you?”

He shrugged, “Never been better.”

Silence.

Both of them did say nothing. If Harry was busy watching her, Y/N preferred to avert her gaze. Honestly, she didn't dare to be stared at Harry for so long. She couldn't lie if she said she missed the man in front of her. She was afraid her heart would collapse if she kept staring at him. Harry hadn't changed, he was still the old Harry. However, he looked a little better – almost like his usual state. Erskine was getting better and better, and it made his psychological condition better.

“What do you want to talk about, Harry?”

Harry. Harry.

Sounded sweet but so sour.

Heard Y/N calling him by his real name, it felt surreal. He used to be called by nickname or pet names, Harry sounded so strange and unfamiliar in his ears.

This time, was Y/N who dared to look at him while he tried to suppress his feelings by lowering his head with hands toying the pen. He was confused about what to say.

“About your resignation,” he lifted his head, staring deadly at her, “Why?”

“I can no longer work here.”

“Why?” Harry asked the second time since he didn't satisfied with her answer. He wanted to know the main reason that made her decide to quit her job. He knew she had another reason that she couldn't work here anymore.

“Harry,” she sighed, joining her hands together in her lap, “With everything that happened between us, I'm trying to fix things. I– ”

“If the reason is that you can't get too close to me, I can promote you or.. or even move you to another department. Just.. just don't quit. You have good achievements here, don't give up your career. Erskine still needs you, I still need you for this company's future." Harry stammered, "I know everything will not be the same after that, I know you can't forgive me. But, please. Don't bring our personal problems to work."

“If I mix personal matters with work, I wouldn't meet you now professionally.” Y/N bit her lip, “Don't judge me that low.”

“I don't?” Harry confused, “I know you're hiding something from me, Y/N. That's why–”

“It's more than fixing things. I can't work here anymore because I have to rest for who knows long. I can't function properly since my brain can't work normally.”

What did she mean?

“Pardon?”

“I have post-concussion syndrome after what happened. Getting headaches easily, lose concentration, get anxious and worried easily, even I would lose the ability to move my body suddenly. Of course, it will slow down my performance.” she exhaled, “I need time to get normal. And I can't possibly abandon my job that long.”

“I need you to understand my condition, Harry. I'm not the same like before.”

Harry was.. speechless. He wouldn't have thought his behaviour had an impact this far. He didn't expect to make Y/N suffer like this. She almost died because of him, she was forced to leave her job because of him. She did suffer because of him.

All because of you, Harry.

You were the one who made her suffer.

"And it will be better for us, to help us to move on with each other's lives."

Move on with each other's lives.

Move on.

Was that what she wanted?

No matter how hard Harry persuaded her, Y/N would stick with her decision. It was very difficult to change her mind she had made. Harry knew that very well.

However, what was Harry for Y/N right now? He was nothing for her. She wouldn't listen to him, she wouldn't care anymore to him.

If that was what Y/N wanted, Harry couldn't stop her. Just like what he said, he would respect every decision she made.

And, Harry realised, this moment was the last time he saw her. She would leave him.

This was their goodbye. . . Please excuse some errors Talk to me :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #angst #romance #fanfiction

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carpstan · 3 years

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hi @wasp-factor! i'm your secret santa. i just wanted to say how happy writing this fic for you made me - i love gakushuu too, even though i never had the chance to write about him before, hopefully it's in character. i know you like gakushuu/isogai, and i tried to include it in the fic (apparently i really like this ship, i never thought about it before). i hope you'll like it and, since we don't know each other, maybe we'll become friends. happy holidays!

Asano Gakushuu discovers the magic of Christmas

He had done it on purpose. There was no other possible explanation.

Winter holidays were approaching and the headmaster himself had given class A a social studies assignment about the influence of Christmas. Normally, Gakushuu would not have minded writing a paper on a topic that he deemed to be quite fascinating, but that was really not the case: the headmaster apparently thought it would be delightful to have everyone discuss a different aspect of the main theme, so joining all the students’ essays would result in a rich dissertation that would cover every little detail. The problem was the theme he got.

According to the instructions he received, his task was to understand what made Christmas so appealing to people in terms of improvement of their mood and behaviour; in easier words, he had to investigate the odd phenomenon known as “the magic of Christmas”. Oh, and he had to provide actual evidence to support his thesis as well. He had to go on the streets and interview people.

So, his father absolutely did that on purpose. Forcing him to reflect on a social event he considered not only pointless but plain out dumb, while also having him interact with random strangers who were likely just as dumb was an extremely clever way to torture him. Like that was not enough, he knew he could not complain about it with his friends, who he was sure considered him lucky and would have immediately said he got the best topic. The audacity.

It could have been literally anything else. And to say he was almost excited - no, not the right word. He was intrigued when the theme was announced. He had made some research on his own and he had stumbled upon an interesting article regarding the frailty of a consumist economy which revolves around a single month of extreme consumptions, he would have been ready and enthusiastic to write about it. Ren got that part instead. Now that was luck.

Well, he better start to plan out his actions. First of all, he was going to complain to his friends: they were not going to understand him, but he still needed to get rid of some frustration. Then he would start right away. The deadline was two weeks from then and he needed to get properly organised to avoid spending too much time on this project. The sooner he turned it in the better.

---

It was not going as well as he expected. He thought everything would have run as smoothly as usual, but he should have taken some factors into account. The problem was that for the first time in his life, he found himself in the unenviable position of talking about a topic he had no knowledge nor experience of.

His father and he never celebrated Christmas, or any holiday to be fair. Their house was the only one in the neighbourhood, or maybe in the whole city, which was completely missing decorations. Once he was asked how he felt about it, and the truth was he did not feel anything at all. His family was not religious, and not believing in Jesus Christ sounded like a perfectly good reason not to celebrate his birth to him. He did not mind his house keeping its sobriety either; being exposed to flashing lights for more than two minutes gave him a mild headache, actually. He never thought it was sad, or whatever people said about those who did not celebrate, it was just behaving like usual in a time of the year which was just like any other period.

Still, he was having some troubles doing his deed. He had decided to start off with the interviews, since he knew from the beginning he would have had to rely on other people’s experiences, and also he wanted to get rid of the most distressful part first. That turned out not to be a good idea too.

Well, to be fair he did not have a choice. He just seemed to be particularly unlucky with the people he met. He tried his best to select those who looked more likely to actually answer his questions, but these last days also did their best to remind him the one thing he’s not good at: understanding others.

He wanted to develop a good thesis, so his intention was to gather information from people belonging to different social classes, age groups, gender, occupation and so on; he had thought that, if he had been able to analyse the phenomenon through different perspective, he would have also found the key to see the whole picture. Apparently he could have not been more wrong.

Apart from being dragged down a rabbit hole of war stories and memories of a long dead man by an old lady, witnessing a college student have a full on mental breakdown and having a business woman tell him that her children were ruining her life and their expensive desires were driving her crazy - that would have been helpful, if only he had got the part about the economy - he received the same answers from everyone. And those were not answers he could work with.

A lot of his targets claimed that presents were the best part - both receiving and giving. It made sense, at least the part about receiving, because he really could not see the appeal of wandering all day through the streets - oh, the irony - looking for gifts and getting crazy while trying, and probably failing, to figure out what someone might appreciate. Again, it could have been an interesting take to explore for the economic aspect, but he should stop thinking about that.

No, the tradition of presents was actually a decent starting point, maybe it was kind of shallow and too closely connected with the intrinsic materialism of a consumerist society - okay, enough - and it was not completely clear to him why everyone was so obsessed with Christmas and not any other holiday if it was just about gifts, but he could make it work. What actually bothered him was the other answer he frequently received.

It was lights. People actually told him that they liked the little lights all over the buildings and all the other decorations. Lights. Was he supposed to say that what made the population radically change its habits and attitude in the month of December depended on lights? What is wrong with everyone?

Exchanging presents and “festive atmosphere” really was all he got. He could feel his average grade suffer. He was not going to let it happen, let alone because of a social studies assignment on the magic of Christmas.

---

It was his fifth day of scanning the streets for someone who would give him some good material to work on. He had been reviewing his notes and the night before he had had an idea: it was his last resort, but time was running fast. Reluctantly, he made his decision. He was headed towards the 3E building and he intended to make a truce.

When he did arrive at the building he could not find anyone. Class E was definitely odd, but how skilled each of them appeared to be at getting through that hell of a path down the mountain was beyond weird if you asked him. Maybe it was for the better, he thought. He would have found another way, he did not need any help, certainly not from them.

Just as he was about to head back he noticed someone walking out of the building and towards him. Isogai arrived at the spot where he was standing fast, stopping at an appropriate distance before speaking.

- Asano-kun, I didn’t expect to see you. Do you need anything?

He did not look too happy to see him there, but he was very polite, just like it was expected from him. Isogai also seemed eager to know what brought him there, which was legitimate; he swallowed down his pride and forced himself to do what he came for.

- Actually, yes, I do.

Gakushuu straightened his back before continuing.

- I’m writing an assignment for social studies about the social effects of Christmas and I need to interview some people. I haven’t received any satisfying answer so far, so, would you mind if I asked you a couple of questions?

Isogai was surprised by what he could tell. Fair, he thought. He was not aiming at him specifically, but any 3E student would have had the same reaction. Or a way less polite one. He had to admit, he was quite content having met him: he did not insult him and sent him away, which was already a lot, and Gakushuu did have some sort of respect for him, if he could call it that. He acknowledged he was smart and most importantly he was skillful enough to be able to use his intelligence to do a good job as class representative. He was from class E, so he mostly despised him, but a little less than he despised the others.

- Of course. What is it?

He had hesitated for a couple of seconds before pronouncing the words, and Gakushuu guessed he had debated whether he should indulge in their conversation or not until the very last moment.

- Do you consider Christmas important?

Isogai pondered his words upon answering.

- My family is Christian, but I’ll admit we don’t give much weight to the ritual celebration. Apart from that though, we do take Christmas seriously.

Gakushuu nodded slowly. Not religion then. He had already figured that bit on his own, religion might have been a relevant fuel in the past, but it could not get such an effect in these times. It was time to ask the infamous question then: he really hoped he was not going to hear presents and lights again; this really was his last resort.

- If not religion, what is it that makes Christmas so special? How is it different from any other holiday?

Isogai took yet another pause.

- Well, it is the only holiday that brings my whole family together. On Christmas day no one is at school, or at work, and even if it happened before that we had to spend it in the hospital, we still were all together.

A small smile was forming on his face as the words rolled out of his mouth; he may have not even realised the corners of his mouth rising ever so slightly.

- We also usually get to eat a meal that is a little more elaborate than our usual, and since we cook all together too it’s another chance to spend as much time as possible with each other without worrying about everyday’s problems. It’s the one day we can live completely carefree. And since everyone else tends to feel more generous, they leave higher tips, which is convenient.

Family. Was that the key? It was the message that also laid under those college students who mentioned some dishes that their relatives were going to cook and that they were looking forward to eating. He should have understood before, he told himself, but he knew he could not. He just could not. He was never going to understand what it really meant, he knew because he had forced himself to do it before. Even those times he had tried to picture a cohesive family, he still did not manage to get past the notion that the concept of family itself is supposed to be on a higher level than most things. Why would something one had no control over ever be so important? How could relationships decided by casuality alone be more relevant than those born out of mutual choice? It did not mean anything to him. He was never going to understand.

But at least he had enough material to write a good essay now. He could have just thanked Isogai and left, but there was that last sentence he had said. He did not think too much before opening his mouth again.

- Don’t you think that’s hypocritical?

Isogai now gave him a full, conscious smile, even though it had a shade he could not quite place: it looked almost sympathetic. He shrugged before finally replying.

- Maybe it is, but I’m not in a position to judge, if anybody is.

Gakushuu was not sure about what he should do with that statement. It was something to think about.

- Alright, that’s all I needed. Thank you, Isogai-kun.

---

Gakushuu did not write the essay right away. Instead, he took his time to adjust all the information he had gathered. He did not take any notes while talking to Isogai, but he soon realised that was not going to be an issue at all: he remembered all his words perfectly, he noticed, and he proceeded to write them down in the evening.

Later, he caught himself thinking about that conversation more than once. They did not even say much, and he wished they had taken some more time. Speaking with Isogai again was something he would have liked; they did not have much in common, but he still thought they might have some interesting discussions, if only they had the chance.

He actually ended up handing in his paper on the last day. It was not usual for him, or, to be honest, it should be said it had never happened before. He knew he had made excellent work.

---

It was not evening yet, but the sun had set long ago. The sky was clear and a soft yet glacial wind was blowing; Christmas lights seemed brighter when the moon was not high up in the sky, drowning the stars themselves with their overwhelming glow. After a careful analysis, Gakushuu was confident in confirming that he hated them, and the flashing ones still gave him a mild headache. How all those people could appreciate them was forever going to be a mystery.

Mindlessly walking through the city centre, he was still thinking about that assignment. It had kept him occupied for a good portion of time, and he was glad it was now something he did not have to worry about anymore. As he was passing close to a café, something at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stopped by the side of the street, unsure of the reason, and peeked through the café’s window: there he saw Isogai serving a couple of elders with a warm smile on his face. He was working hard, probably, no, surely looking forward to spending the next day with his mother and siblings. The man he had just served handed him what looked like a very generous tip, and his mind trailed back to that one conversation again. He could not understand Isogai’s situation either, he had to admit it, at least to himself. At the moment, it felt okay. Realising he could not understand everything for once did not feel like a tremendous crime he had to atone for. It actually seemed to him that he could empathise with Isogai, just for a second, and despite knowing it was nothing but an ephemeral feeling that was going to be gone in a flash, it made him feel well. Maybe poor people deserved rights, after all.

Then Isogai noticed and his face went pale. Gakushuu did not immediately interpret that reaction correctly, but he soon became aware of what his presence there had meant in the past: he thought he was going to tell his father about it.

Isogai excused himself and rushed outside to meet him without even bothering to grab a coat and started talking before Gakushuu had the chance to clarify his intentions.

- Asano-kun, I know I shouldn’t be working but I really-

- I’m not going to report you to the headmaster.

Gakushuu interrupted him immediately. Isogai did look significantly relieved.

- I was just passing by. But since I’m here I wanted to thank you for helping with my assignment. It was an interesting conversation.

Isogai’s eyes were wide open - he almost looked like a deer caught in the headlights. But soon he started to warm up and reserved him a smile similar to the one he gave to the clients in the café.

- Oh, I’m glad I was helpful. It was interesting indeed.

Gakushuu could almost feel himself starting to smile in the moments of silence that followed, which he hurriedly broke.

- Well, it’s cold. You should head back inside.

He quickly said then. Isogai was almost shivering actually, but he looked somehow pleased. Gakushuu suspected he had seen him smiling, but he could not be sure.

- Yeah, that’s right. Merry Christmas then, Asano-kun.

He greeted him; his smile might have been brighter than those Christmas lights.

- Merry Christmas, Isogai-kun.

He really did not despise him that much.

---

After leaving the café, Gakushuu decided to head home. The walk was not long and he deemed it quite relaxing. He was not paying a lot of attention to the familiar buildings of his neighbourhood: everything was in place, just as it was when he had left the house in the morning.

Except there was a difference, a small detail that could have gone unnoticed and that most people had surely missed, but which appeared like a massive change to his eyes: on his house’s front door there was a Christmas wreath. It was small and quite simple, but it was there. He stared at it for what might have been a whole minute before snapping out of the shock and entering the house.

He found his father sitting on the sofa reading a book like nothing had happened, but he was the only person who could have put it there.

- What does it mean?

Gakushuu asked as soon as he arrived in the living room, without bothering to greet him first.

- What is it?

His father asked, his eyes still fixed on the book in his hands.

- The Christmas wreath on the front door, what about it?

- I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Gakushuu stared at his father for a handful of seconds, before huffing what sounded like a “whatever” and going straight to his room. There, he allowed himself to smile.

#assassination classroom #assassination classroom secret santa

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