#i already felt like utter garbage when i woke up and now i got hit with awful terrible duplicate anxiety

[sidespromptblog]

Late Night Run: Part 1

Part Two (End)

One-shots:

Confrontation (Virgil), The Reveal, and Comfort

Summary: Logan makes muffins in the middle of the night out of worry for the dark sides, it doesn't exactly end up how he thinks it will end up.

Warning: Self Deprecating Thoughts (Logan), Questionable Patton Mention, Questionable Virgil Mention, Panic Attack (Logan), and NSFS (not safe for sanders- heavy kissing and hickeys). 

Word Count: 4800

AO3 LINK

It was late.

There was no doubt about that, the clock on his nightstand had already told Logan that it was well past midnight when he had ventured down into the kitchen, and he was certain that he had been down here for hours. Ordinarily, he would have frowned heavily upon doing anything like this for any such reason, as Thomas definitely wouldn’t benefit from his physical representation of Logic being up as late as he was. But… he couldn’t help it, he had tried to sleep and he had tried to shove the worries he was wrestling with to the back of his mind like the others did, and… he couldn’t. For hours before he had gotten up he had restlessly tossed and turned, his mind coming up with scenario after scenario making his worry and concern twist around his chest like an anaconda that was getting closer and closer to squeezing him to death. He had certainly tried, with just about every item he had at his disposal. From his humidifier to the noisemaker on his desk.

Nothing worked, as that sickening feeling of worry played with his insides. 

And now, not only was there flour all the way up to his elbows, but he had batter under his fingernails, and the smell of muffins baking in the kitchen yet again after his first few attempts had completely and utterly failed him. 

He knew that he most certainly wasn’t like Roman, who would whip up meals out of nothing with little to no effort. And he clearly wasn’t like Patton who could stick to a select few things and make them well. He was… well, he was just him. He was Logic and that didn’t lend itself to anything very well, he was lucky if the coffee machine even liked him more than it did Virgil. So baking… baking for the longest time had been out of the question, as he had been content to just leave that area of expertise to Roman and Patton. It was a miracle that he had even managed to have one batch turn out alright, what with as many charred and burnt failures as he had before. 

 Because whether they believed it or not…

He knew where and when he was a failure.

And much like emotions, he was an utter failure at anything that came to the kitchen and he had been content with that.

At least until he had started noticing it, and it was when he had started noticing that the others didn’t notice that had really knocked him off of his balance. It was like not noticing that something was on fire, or like there was a monster that the others couldn’t.. or didn’t care about seeing. It had seemed preposterous for them not to notice such an obvious thing, so much so that it had figuratively thrown him for a loop. It baffled him unlike any emotion had ever done before, and it made something fiery hot seeth and burn in his chest like the first little embers before a raging fire. It made his hands clench and his shoulders shake, to the point that every puff of air felt like smoke being heaved out of a dragon’s nostrils before it set fire to a village. 

He was… he was… angry.

No... furious was a far better term than just blanket anger. Or even perhaps rage, when the surging need to punch his wall or even to throw his usual stress ball so hard that chunks of it flew off once it hit the wall. All just to relieve the built-up pressure seized him in its vice-like grip, and refused to let go until he actually did something to feel better about the whole situation.

The idea had seemed ludicrous, at first.  

Every day, every day they all ate together. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. With all of them seated there, even Deceit and Remus showed up to eat. They didn’t necessarily eat as a family, given how Virgil always gave the two dark sides a stink eye or with how Patton’s smile seemed entirely fake when Remus messily scarfed down his food and Deceit declined to eat certain things. It was more like a distant family meal, where they were all forced to eat with one another, even if they didn’t like each other. It was like a holiday meal, where they acknowledged each other long enough to eat, but after that, they went back to pretending each other didn’t exist long enough to lick their wounds back in their respective rooms. 

Even he could tell how humiliating it was for them all things considered.

It had never sat right with Logan, forcing Deceit and Remus to eat with them if the two dark sides couldn’t even be given the most basic amount of respect when Thomas was present. No matter how many times they would eat together… anytime that Remus or Deceit showed up, they were treated as the scum of the earth no matter how they acted off camera. It was insulting. But regardless of how he had felt… Deceit and Remus had always shown up, they had always sat there and eaten. Taking Patton’s fake smiles, taking Virgil’s shrewd glares all while knowing that they weren’t really wanted there in the first place. They ate the food that Patton and Roman put out on the table and didn’t say so much as a word against it, despite Deceit clearly being averse to certain foods and Remus neglecting them entirely. And then… 

Three days ago they stopped coming entirely, and Logan hadn’t been able to sleep since then.

Logan had been able to wave away the worry he had felt on the first day, chalking it up to the fact that the other two might just be sick or having a mental health day for themselves. It was only when the second and third day rolled around, with Deceit and Remus missing every single meal since then that Logan felt it.

That sickening sinking in his stomach that had kept him up all night, that had made him toss and turn, and that had forced him up well past midnight scrambling around in the kitchen for some kind of way to help. There was no guarantee that Deceit and Remus would even be awake at this time of night, but that was perhaps for the best. 

“If they don’t want to see Virgil or Patton… then why on earth would they want to see you?” Logan sarcastically muttered to himself as he gingerly moved the hot muffins to the plate, they actually smelled kind of great, although that was heavily overshadowed by the other burnt muffins that had been his failure batch in the garbage. He had failed so many times to get this batch of muffins to be perfect, to the point where he wanted to go back and curl up in bed and bemoan how he was a failure. “Not yet,” He insistently coached himself, “Run these down to them, and then I can hide under the covers until morning.” 

All things considered… it was a shitty pep talk if he’d ever heard one. 

But then again he had never been the best at being encouraging in any kind of way. That was why, after all, that Thomas liked Patton and Roman better than he could ever like him, they were better at giving those sweet encouraging words that Logan had always somehow managed to make monotone and boring for their host. 

Nevertheless, there he was, standing before the door that led down into the dark side’s mindspace, that squirming uncomfortable sensation was back although this time it came with an added warmth that swamped his face and made the tips of his ears tingle. It made a restless jittery feeling run up and down his spine and settle deep into his bones the tighter that he clutched the plate of muffins. If he saw them… then it would be the first time he had seen them in days, which… wasn’t necessarily a lot of days all things considered. But three days was seventy-two hours, and it was also four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes, which was most definitely a lot. Then again, if they saw him…

They might tell the others, they might get angry, they… might tell the others and then everyone would get angry at him for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. 

The logical side barely had time to even consider that option before he got to the last step, and before him was the dark mindspace. It was… for lack of a better word… really really dark, and on top of that very cold and… not as messy as he would have thought it would be. Piles of clothes had been strewn all over the couch, whether they were clean or dirty Logan had no way of knowing. But other than that, the place just seemed…

 Lived in.

With little trinkets lining the shelves, artwork on the fridge, and picture frames on the wall… it didn’t look like the deep dark dungeon of madness and despair that Virgil had always said that it was and that they had always assumed it to be. By all accounts, it looked.. just normal. No evilness lurking in the shadows and no monsters waiting to bit off their ankles if anyone came too close. 

“I knew it!” Logan whisper-shouted to himself, just barely holding back the urge to fist bump the air in his near-silent victory. “I knew that they weren’t evil down here!” 

Regardless of his victory though, he had come here to do a single simple task to himself a peace of mind so that he could sleep, and that’s what he was going to do before he woke up everyone in the mindspace. Perhaps after this, he could finally de-stress and actually get some sleep.

Setting the plate on the counter, Logan hastily booked it back towards the door seeing that none of them were around to question or interrogate him about his lapse in emotions. The less they knew about who sent the muffins, and the fewer questions they asked about it… honestly, the better in Logan’s opinion. He wasn’t Virgil, someone that they clearly missed and wanted to have back with them. He wasn’t Patton, someone who’s entire thing was being nice and happy to others. He wasn’t Roman, someone who could charmingly enough befriend them if he tried hard enough. He was just Logan.

Boring and ordinary Logan that nobody listened to.

And it was time to go. 

Or at least it would have been, had the abnormally warm pair of arms not slithered around his waste the moment that he moved in front of the messy couch, catching him in such a tight grasp that it was impossible for him to even budge from it. 

Looking down, Remus’ abnormally bright eyes gleamed out of the pile of clothes as he looked back up at him. “Got you,” Remus whispered in the darkness of the mindspace, a smile curling on his lips as he tugged back with one smooth and very strong movement he had Logan seated half on his lap and half splayed onto the couch where previously he had thought nobody had been. “Dee Dee! I got one of em! Come quick, it’s the dork!” And just like that, Logan’s heart sank into the very depths of his stomach as his lungs hitched holding his very breath captive. 

There was no way that he was getting out of here without alerting practically everyone.

The dark sides would know, Patton and the others would know, they would all know that he came down here and they’d scorn him because of it. He’d see Patton’s painfully fake smile aimed towards him this time, he’d see Virgil’s hateful scorn scorching his insides as he glared at him with all of the hate and malice that he gave the others, even Roman… he wouldn’t be able to look at him again. All of the work he had put in towards this, to being silent and making sure that he didn’t wake anyone up… would be entirely worthless. 

It would all be over.

He would.. he wouldn’t.. he couldn’t…   

Icy cold hands cupped Logan’s face, he hadn’t even noticed it when Remus’ grip around him had gone slack nor when the other side had appeared before him. “Hey,” The buttery smooth voice came to him in waves as reality slowly shifted back on its axis, concern and worry dripping off of every word as those cold hands remained, a steady anchor pulling him back. “Breathe for me, can you do that? I need you to breathe, okay?” Another pair of hands smoothed his messy bed hair back out of his face, allowing him to see those two mismatched eyes staring back at him. 

Logan hadn’t even realized how long he had been holding his breath until  Deceit had made him aware of the painful burning in his lungs. And in one quick movement, he hastily inhaled almost lifelessly slumping back against Remus as the other two exchanged worried glances back and forth that looked like an entire conversation that Logan wasn’t privy to. 

“Good,” Nevertheless Deceit patted his cheeks relief washing over his face, “You’re safe.. you’re okay here.” Worry wasn’t exactly a foreign concept to Deceit, but looking down at the logical side that had been frozen in abject terror the moment that Remus had called out for him. Well… worry wasn’t exactly the word that he’d use to describe the kind of feeling that shot through his chest upon seeing that expression, aimed towards him no less. 

Even Remus had completely stopped when it had become obvious that their dear logical side was no longer actually breathing, and stuck in a panicked spiral in his own head. Where Remus had been squeezing the other side with his constricting arms, Remus now merely held him, barely even touching him now that Logan was once again breathing as he should have been in the first place. Despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to touch him, just to make sure that he was alright and wasn’t dying right then and there. But he couldn’t, despite how much his body screamed at him to comfort the logical side in some way… he just couldn’t.

Another pair of Deceit’s hands smoothed over Logan’s hair again, “Now,” The dishonest side began, once Logan’s eyes no longer had that glazed look of terror about them. “Would you like to explain just what you’re doing here Logic? This isn’t exactly prime time for you light sides… not that any of you would ever willingly come down here, to begin with.” Especially not since they had Virgil now, they never needed to come down here again. 

“I…” Logan swallowed thickly as it all came back to him in emotionally embarrassing waves of what he had come here to do and just why. “I was worried…” He began clamming up a little as soon as Deceit raised an eyebrow at him, clearly skeptical. “You two haven’t come up to eat for two days, and I didn’t know if you were eating at all so I.. just…” Logan swallowed again, just to look up yet again and see the expression written all over the other side’s face. “What?” He quickly asked, utterly ashamed at how the warmth spread over his face with nothing to stop it. 

A soft scoff let Deceit’s lips as he rolled his eyes, “We’re fine down here, we didn’t need to come up-” 

Before the other side could so much as finish though…

“What he means is that,” Remus casually butted in “Is that it’s fucking shitty that we have to keep up the appearances of a happy family even though most of you hate our guts. We are hungry, but we also have our pride and our mental health to think about. We hate trying to appease ol Daddy just for it to never ever work at every turn.” Remus’ warm breath washed over Logan’s neck as he leaned in, resting his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “No matter how we play along, will always be denied the spotlight even when Thomas needs us to shine. So why try… right?” 

Deceit bobbed his head in a nod, the pent up expression on his face only slightly loosening as his eyes remained trained on Logan’s face. 

Ah.

“I see,” Logan softly began, his calm voice in no way giving away the furious fire burning right underneath of his skin, he wanted to do something.. to scream, to yell at the others, at himself for letting this go on for as long as it did. He wanted to hit himself for being so foolish to think that these two would ever be okay for settling for what the others were making them settle for. It was stupid… it was foolish to ever even believe that things could continue at the rate they were continuing, they needed more than just some meals together... of course, they would need more.  

A myriad of emotions passed through Deceit’s eyes, “Good,” He choked out, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Now that you understand…. you are free to leave. We aren’t going to tell the others that you were down here, so just hurry back before they all wake up and-”

“I’m sorry.” 

Deceit’s words hit a screeching stop. “Excuse me?” 

Taking in a deep breath Logan slumped back against the couch and Remus, “I… I knew,” He finally admitted, “I knew that something was up, and the way that you two were being treated was not satisfactory. And ultimately I finally did something too little too late. I should have said.. or done something before it ever got this bad. But what do I do?” Logan sarcastically snorted mirroring the scoff that Deceit had made moments ago. “I make fucking blueberry muffins instead of doing something actually good, why? Because blueberries are the one fruit you like and texture that doesn’t bother you, and both of you like muffins. I could have done something actually useful, but instead I-”

Logan would have gone on and on, had Remus’ hand not covered his mouth silencing him rather effectively. 

 “How on earth did you know?” Remus incredulous voice snapped Logan out of his own self-loathing ramblings, “I mean nobody… not even Virgil knew about the blueberry thing, let alone muffins. So how do you know?!” 

Glancing back and forth from Deceit to Remus, Logan saw the same thing. Their wide eyes that perfectly told him that nobody had been able to pick up on their eating habits well enough to make them something that they’d actually enjoy. That they’d always picked through their meals with the light sides, while being barely satisfied as it was at the end of the day with what they had eaten. It was a harsh truth that slapped Logan across the face to just why they had stopped coming. Nobody had cared enough to learn about them, they had all made changed when Virgil had picked at his food, and yet… they hadn’t even offered the same courtesy to Remus or Deceit. 

“It was fairly obvious to me,” Logan’s voice was muffled by Remus’ hand, and yet he continued to speak anyways. “There was the night that Roman made a fruit salad, you two only picked out the pineapple chunks, oranges, and blueberries from it. And one time for breakfast you ate only the muffins, when you were given over-easy eggs and crispy bacon. So it was kind of easy. Since.. since I was actually… you know... Looking.” Logan mumbled through the other’s hand, just for his words to ramble off into a dead silence as soon as he noticed the look that was written all over Deceit’s face. 

A part of him was sure… absolutely sure that he had fucked up in some kind of way. 

And then cold hands descended onto his face, cupping his cheeks just as they had been before. All while Remus’ arms wrapped just as tightly around his waist as they had been before, with the dark side frantically nuzzling the back of his neck as if it was the last thing that either of them would ever do. Logan would have been lying had he said that his entire body didn’t shiver at the touch of those cold hands, and the desperate hug that Remus had seemingly pulled him back into.  

Without even thinking about it, Logan raised his hands laying them gingerly over Deceit’s making them stay right there on his face, as he leaned back against Remus. 

“You… You’re not an idiot,” Deceit mumbled his body pitching forward as he slid his other pairs of arms around Logan, cocooning him between the two dark sides with a contrasting sensation of the warmth from Remus on his back and Deceit’s blessed coldness against his front. “I don’t know why you care… for either of us as it is. I don’t know what possessed you to come and find us. To cook anything for us. But…” Logan felt a stirring of warmth against his trembling heart as Deceit’s nuzzled the top of his head. “Thank you.”

The amount of desperation that he was then seized with was almost embarrassing for Logan, as he clutched onto Deceit’s caplet, it was like his very skin was burning without any of the pain that came with it. He had never been held, or rather caressed in such a way that made him want to surround himself like this again and again. This was an entirely new sensation for him, and he never wanted it to stop. The very idea of it stopping was on parr of torture for him, and even that was unthinkable for him.

“Don’t thank me,” Logan mumbled into the crease of Deceit’s shirt, his voice bordering on an embarrassing whine as Remus’ warm hands curled around him even more, making his back instinctively arch into that warm calloused touch that trailed up his spine. “Don’t ever thank me for giving you the most basic kindness that you already deserve. Because I’ll give it to you every time, you don’t ever need to thank me… I promise.” Words had never been his strong suit when it had come to him telling the others how he felt, and yet right here and now… 

They flowed as freely as water gushing in a river.

It was almost scary how well he could tell these two just how he felt about the circumstances they had all found themselves in. It came so easily, that for a second for a split second… he was sure that there was something wrong with him. These words that were on the tip of his tongue, weren’t supposed to be this easy for him to say. He was supposed to trip and stumble over these words, to be too cold to ever let them out without being forced first. 

And yet… as Remus’ mustache tickled the back of his neck, his body felt all too willing to give out the words that had been buried inside of him for far too long. 

He didn’t like how the others treated Deceit and Remus.

They deserved to be treated with respect.

They deserved to have a seat at the table just like Virgil did. 

Just because they existed did not make them inherently bad or even make Thomas evil. 

They couldn’t control what their core aspect was as a side, just as Virgil couldn’t. So to treat them as evil was hypothetical at best, and just abuse at worst. 

He… actually liked them, as in like-liked them. 

And worst, or perhaps best of all… he didn’t want to leave their pile of limbs that felt all too perfect around him. 

“Then don’t go,” Remus’ warm breath washed over Logan’s collarbone as he rubbed his cheek against the other’s neck, “I know what you’re trying to keep hidden, those deep dark thoughts that you don’t want the others to know about, because you’re scared of them leaving. Just like Tommy boy, you..” Remus squirmed a little as he readjusted his grip on Logan, until the logical side’s back was flush against his chest. “You don’t have to leave, you can stay. Move your room here, stay with us, have meals with us. You.. you would be happy.” The creative side practically mouthed the last word against Logan’s skin, forcing another shiver to curl up from the very bottom of Logan’s toes to the very tip of his hair. 

“Remus,” Deceit softly warned, there was a clear underlining of despairing want deep in his eyes. He so desperately wanted the very same thing. For the one person who clearly cared about the two of them to stay, to not have to go back, and for Logan to just let them love him.

 But he knew… 

The other would come for Logan, they would be angry and force him to come back. He couldn’t stay, he couldn’t stay with them, and they couldn’t love him.  

Deceit wasn’t even aware that he had been tearing up until he felt Logan’s smooth fingers wiping away the tears before they could even make their way down his face. 

“Deceit,” Logan’s said his title like it was a prayer, “Do you want me here?” He asked, his eyes staring right back up into those mismatched eyes with the fierceness of a wild animal protecting its territory. “Because I want to be here, I want to be here for you two, and I want to… be happy, for once.” Logan’s thumb brushed over his scaled cheek, making Deceit instinctively dip his head into the warmth of the other side. “Truthfully I do not care how the others will react to me leaving, they can’t always get what they want. And…” Logan clasped his hand around the back of Deceit’s neck, pressing both of their foreheads together. “If they try to take me back… I. Will. Fight.” 

There was no warning, none at all for what Deceit did next. 

As he threaded his fingers through Logan’s hair, gripping him so tight and with such earnestness that one might have thought that the dishonest side was scared of him vanishing before he slammed their mouths together. They were all pressed together, limbs tangling with one another, the sound that Logan made into the kiss was much more of a flustered sound than an embarrassing one. But even so, the logical side could still feel Deceit smiling into the kiss. At least until he felt Remus’ teeth burying into his shoulder, ripping his attention from the dishonest and firmly in place of Remus. 

“My turn,” Remus petulantly whined, as soon as Logan came up for air. And before he could even get so much as a lungful in, Remus’ lips descended down onto Logan’s nipping and biting the entire time making Logan give up those little noises he tried so desperately to hide from them. 

Logan gasped as he felt Deceit’s fangs brush over his pulse, “The..the muffins,” He stammered out a weak excuse if he’d ever heard one, as he felt the lips from each side sucking a dark mark after mark on his neck. There would be no way on earth that he’d ever be able to hide these from the others, not that he was exactly complaining about that. “T..they’ll get… col-” Just to squirm as a truly humiliating sound left his lips as Remus dragged his tongue from the fresh sensitive mark up the slope of Logan’s neck, aiming for his mouth once again. Shame scrawled itself all over Logan’s cheeks, as he slammed his mouth shut, desperate to keep any noises as quiet as possible.     

“No no no,” Deceit muttered, a sly smirk curling on his lips as he whispered his words onto a particular spot right behind Logan’s ear that made the logical side squirm. “You’re too beautiful to be silent dearest one, be as loud as you want. I’ll not be silencing you today, or ever… not unless you ask me to.” 

A shiver rolled up Logan’s body, that left him gasping and wanting. 

“You’re so good,” Remus purred as his hands smoothly found their way under Logan’s shirt, “My beautiful daring Dame, so perfect and caring. Amazing. Fantastic. Phenomenal. Just so... Extraordinary my lovely lovely Dame.” 

And with those words, Logan tilted his head back letting go of all of his stress and worries, and let his two lovers take care of him. 

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #deceit sanders #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #ts deceit sanders #ts remus #sympathetic remus #remus sanders #ts remus sanders #intruloceit #questionable patton #questionable virgil #ts sanders sides #ts sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts sanders sides fanfiction

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Last Christmas

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: Language some smut and loads of angst

A/N: This took me two days to write. 🤣 Once again @robertsheehanownsmyass helped in so many ways and I continue to love her for it! This time @elliethesuperfruitlover was my sounding board too ☺️

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @bisexualnathanyoung @frogs--are--bitches @magic-multicolored-miracle @nightmonsters

Chapter 4: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

“Of all the places to eat in Sin City, you chose fucking Taco Bell,” disdain. “Don't you have those in The UK?”

“Not with a bloody margarita bar inside,” Nathan held up a giant plastic cup full of strawberry watermelon tequila and syrup. Violet lived for every time he spoke a word with the “AR” sound.

“IT'S A T’GO MARGARITA! I can just go anywhere I want and leave with booze. Fucking beauty if you treat her right,” Nathan’s eyes sparkled. “And there's no problem that can't be solved with a bit o’ t’go booze.” He shoved an entire soft taco in his mouth that smiled from ear to ear.

“Are you gonna have better manners tomorrow at my sister’s place?” Violet looked at Nathan unexpectedly hearing her own mother’s voice escape from inside and she frowned.

She had avoided bringing up anything of her own that was personal. These feelings for Nathan that were suffocating her could be held at bay for 36 more hours. He prodded her for information a few times since they woke up. She dodged every one, even going so far as to offer him head in exchange.

(Still only Christmas eve. The snow had stopped inside as Nathan drifted deep in slumber. Violet grateful because how could they explain a woman freezing to death while he was alive?)

Nathan nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I'll be mature and polite!” His smile resembled Bruce in Finding Nemo. “If you tell me what I'm walking into?” There it was.

“None of your business,” Violet plopped a piece of sushi in her mouth.

Nathan sneered, “Bet that tastes like bad snatch. If we're playing happy families, I'm gonna need to know some details!!”

“You're just a guy who got stuck with me until the 26th. I'm not telling them you're my boyfriend or anything.”

“Oh TWICE you're gonna just jab a knife in my heart, huh?”

Violet couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or a tease. She inhaled deeply and brushed her fingertip down Nathan’s cheek. “Fine. It's a bit more complicated than that, but it doesn't change anything about what happens after tomorrow.”

“I like complicated situations. It's my middle name!”

“Oh really?”

“No. it's Michael but, wouldn't you love to meet a guy named Nathan Complicated Young?”

“I didn't even plan on meeting Nathan MICHAEL Young,” it came out a whisper.

They stared at one another in silence for a few minutes over tacos and sushi and margaritas and wine. An alarm jolted Violet to reality indicating it was time for her show to come on.

“Hold those thoughts”

“In my wank bank, darling”

Violet ignored Nathan and turned on her tv “You're gonna want to see this guy. I swear you could be twins.”

A few hours later the pair laid up on the pillows. Tears glittered Violet's eyes that she tried to wipe away surreptitiously with her knuckle.

“My mom watches this garbage show because,” Nathan mimicked a high whine, “NAY-TAN HE LOOKS LIKE YOOO. Alright Ma, and you look like Catelyn Stark.”

“But he kinda does.”

“C’mon what's with that twat’s hair?!

Violet sat up and tugged Nathan on the top of the head, “What's with YOUR hair.”

“IT’S NOT EVEN MY HAIR!” he dramatically waved his hand around. In a blink of an eye his hair became longer, darker and curlier. The description would be a mess. “TA DA!”

Violet hid her shock as her heart raced in her ears. “That's a fucking bird’s nest,” she recovered but not before combing her fingers through the curls.

“Why must your compliments always be so damn backhanded, woman?!” he swatted her hand away.

Violet laid down alongside Nathan with one arm tucked against her body. She stretched her free one across his bare chest, face concealed in the crook of his arm. There was a small contented sigh as he engulfed her in his arms. A kiss planted on her forehead before he inhaled deeply.

Blissful silence for a few minutes.

“I don't even BELIEVE Darren’s dead.”

“She shot him FOUR TIMES!” Nathan was incredulous as he stretched a hand palm up towards the tv. “IN THE FUCKING HEAD!!”

Violet lifted herself so she could look Nathan right in the eye. “Well he ALSO came back from the dead!” She struggled to maintain sincerity. “He got shot a bunch of times then too. So for like, two years he only had one lung.”

Nathan’s eyebrows knit together in utter confusion. “ONE LUNG?!”

“Plenty of people supposedly live without lungs. It's the back of his head missing that might cause problems.”

There was an exaggerated groan as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head, “Worst Dublin accent too.”

“Why ye from there?” Violet mocked.

“Jaysus, no! We didn't even really have a steady home even when I wasn't homeless. Not until I was too much of a selfish prick t’appreciate it.”

“Wow, death really makes you self actualize.”

“Only until my dick wakes up.”

Before Violet could blink, Nathan flipped her so he could pin her to the bed. She swerved with ease each time Nathan bent to kiss her lips. Her cheeks. She slept with him once already; wouldn't give in again. Well, maybe a little as he landed finally on her neck. A bolt of pleasure shot through her entire body. That familiar ache between her legs as a small moan escaped her.

“Did ye shag me because ye fancy him then?” Nathan’s voice low in Violet's ear.

“That's for me to know, and you to figure out ten years from now in the shower.” Her hands entangled in the waves of dark curls to guide his lips up to her own.

Their tongues danced for what felt like ages. Violet gobsmacked by how subdued Nathan was being. A hand between her ass and the bed to lift her pelvis up towards his burgeoning erection. Another moan, this one into his mouth.

Nathan wriggled to free himself from his boxers as Violet took his tongue entirely in her mouth. The head of his cock labored against her panties, desperate to get inside. He almost settled for the wetness it created and a few times in response.

“Fuck,” he growled pumping his hips. “I t’ink sexy Irishmen who commit felonies get you off.”

Violet raked her nails along Nathan's shoulder blades. Dug them in when her body started to twitch and her sex throbbed from the intensity of being fucked with her underwear on. Nathan's cock hit her clit just right through the lingerie.

Violet's legs started to writhe as the heat in her core began to build. Nathan’s breathing heavy while hers came out in short bursts through mewls of pleasure. The rhythmic way he undulated his hips took on a swift pace. Instinct must have finally kicked in. Like he knew Violet was about to cum.

Except everything came to a sudden halt. Nathan rolled off Violet and replaced his body with two fingers in the same spot. He started to rapidly press them to the wet spot in the fabric like someone desperate to close an elevator door.

Violet gripped his forearm, but again an abrupt end as she felt herself cum.

“Tell me anything about you,” Nathan chose to interrogate her now.

“My-My parents died when I was a teenager. three of us were raised by our grandfather.”

Nathan rewarded Violet by slipping his fingers inside of her. They remained still. “You've got sisters? I had a brother, but some Ice Queen bitch blew him up. What are their names?”

“Rose.. Fern.. Iris and Lily.”

Another reward. Nathan’s fingers began to work her clit in slow circles counterclockwise. “Oh a garden of sexy sisters. They inta Irishman too?” He stopped.

“It's because we're from the Garden District in New Orleans,” Violet's words came out in short bursts. “They're.. two are married. Not Lily, she's younger than you are. Seventeen. Fern is a lesbian.”

“One in every family,” he said it so casually. As casually as the fingers that pumped in and out a bit too easily with how slick she was. Deep inside where they hooked just a bit and pulled back.

“Na- Nathan are you-” Violet started to squirm under his motions. Between the horribly slow circles just his fingertip made on her clit before delving inside and back. “Are you trying to find my G-spot?”

Nathan ignored her as he bit his lower lip in concentration. “Maybe. Sometimes I play stupid with a bird if I t’ink she may do the work for me. Show me around a bit.”

Violet ignored that she may have been hustled a bit in the sack. Maybe his eagerness and pride was what really caused him to be all messy about it.

Still his hand worked faster. She coiled right at the beginning of the explosion, again. Then nothing. This was too much power for someone so fucking arrogant.

“I'm asking the questions, love,” he muttered. “Tell us about your granddad.”

Violet closed her eyes, “He was a Civil Rights lawyer. My grandmother was a society woman. Charity balls all that shit.”

“Oh yer a posh bitch. Slumming it wit us street trash,” Nathan picked up again. His fingers a bit too aggressive. “Is that how you work for free but still can live in a flat like this?” his mouth rough in her neck. He bit with the ends of his teeth and sucked somewhat. “While us arseholes are figuring out how t’work the system so we can survive.”

“Nathan! It's not like that. I left a very well-paying job at a firm to help people like you that deserve a fair shake. That DA? Tony? He was one of my partners. Yeah, I saved up and worked HARD for this “posh flat”. Not everyone takes the easy way by doing a little fucking magic and stealing from other people.

Violet had shoved his hand away and sat up on her knees. “I did my research, Nathan. You didn't exactly grow up rough. Your mom’s a teacher and your dad is a successful novelist? You're just one of those dick middle class white guys who gets bored and fucks off because he can.”

“YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS LIKE. My dad leaving us. Mom and I never had a place to live until he started paying her. All the guys she dated. I just wanted it to be us.”

“MY PARENTS ARE DEAD, NATHAN. THEY'RE DUST. Have you even checked your phone? Your dad has called you probably 300 times not including the 20 since the trial ended yesterday. You get to fix things with them.”

Nathan growled and crossed his arms, “Fuck off. I'm not a charity case for you t’fix. I do alright on my own.”

“In jail because you're reckless. You know what happened to me when I was twenty-two?”

“I had t’finger fuck you just to find out ye had sisters. How am I supposed t’know what happened to ye years ago?”

“I was a widow. I got married like a moron when I turned 19. He already had a kid. My grandfather cut me off because education is worth more than a man! It is. I busted my ass to do the rest. AND raise a kid and a drug addict. You know what he did in return?”

Violet was on a roll. Hot tears threatened to spill over her cheeks and stung her eyes. The dark anger in Nathan’s took her by surprise. They were always so congenial if not a bit sad.,

“He drove in to a fucking semi on the highway with our son in the car. So forgive me for not being sympathetic to you being so fucking STUPID you got caught robbing a casino with a seven sided dice. And TWICE you've been too conceited to let your dad bail you out. You are better than this, Nathan. I know it.”

“HAPPY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!” Nathan shouted before throwing himself out of the bed. “I need a proper shower. Is that ok?!”

Violet looked at the clock. 2am. She waved him off, “I don't give a shit.”

She wished she could look back on that moment and say she didn't follow Nathan into the bathroom. That she never joined him in the shower. Or let him fuck her in silence and frustration and fury. That he never used his power to morph himself in a handful of ways, mocking Violet at every chance as their bodies pounded together until she came harder than ever. And most definitely did not fuck a third time after having slept angrily with their backs to each other.

-------

Nathan collapsed beside Violet still on all fours. Her arms waivered as adrenaline and serotonin drained from her body, and collected herself. How guilty she felt that his petulance made her wanton. The ring of the doorbell jarred them both back to reality.

“Oh don't get up. I'll answer it.” Violet threw the nearest shirt on and made her way to the foyer.

Nathan, in his boxers hurried behind her. “I'm a fucking guest. Ye expect me t’answer it?”

“You know a posh bitch like me doesnt answer doors on her own. My fucking maid’s off for the holidays.”

Violet opened the door to a short and cute dark haired girl with barely a toddler on her hip. He reached out for Nathan babbling “Dada Dada Dada” on repeat.

“Marnie?!” He was gobsmacked as the baby wiggled from his mother’s grasp into Nathan’s waiting arms.

A stunned Violet made a poor attempt at stretching the tee shirt she wore into a dress. It was fruitless as it was one of Nathan’s from his duffle. Her hands began to shake as a warmth crawled across her cheeks and nausea set in.

What the fuck is she doing here still? was what Violet said in her mind. “Well um come in,” is what she said with her mouth.

Nathan absently bounced the little boy in his arms as they walked into the living room, “How are ye here? Wit’him?”

Marnie was gawking at the apartment. “Hey this is a right posh gaff you've got. Why couldn't me n’ Nathan junior bunk up here again?”

Violet blanched.

“Oh our passports disappeared. Figured you might ‘ave been done in momentarily,” the young mother turned on the other two and stared from to the other. “Ah you shaggin’ the barrister?!”

“I said when we met t’is would happen, sweetheart. C’mon you know t’ere’s an understanding before we signed the license.”

Now Violet’s head swam, “Are you married? Married. Nathan are you and Marnie..”

“Just a little,” Marnie crossed her arms. “Nathan says if we got hitched your court couldn't make us rat on each other.”

The lawyer had to admit that was pretty genius, something she wished she knew a few weeks ago when she took this case instead of..

“What do you mean a little?”

“No one got a chance to agree. So it's just our signatures. We thought ‘is lawyer might sign ‘em after ‘e got arrested. That's not what you did is it?” She didn't look angry to Violet, merely a little sad.

“Vi you said she left Las Vegas,” Nathan’s tone was one of disbelief. He let the toddler down only because Violet knew he couldn't function without wildly gesticulating as he spoke.

“You left Vegas..” Violet was just too stunned.

“You told me to leave! Said I’d interfere with ‘is trial! Did you tell ‘im about the ASBOs?”

“The shit-heads?” Nathan asked. “What about them? Why would Violet know anything about my friends or talk to you?”

“Because Simon found her to be your lawyer.”

“Barry? He didn't even answer the phone when I called.”

“Well ‘e called me. But so much shit why down it all went barkin’. Some bloke can bring dead people back. That Virtue bitch you told me about killed Alisha because she couldn't kill you.”

Nathan’s mouth hung open, “But she didn't have anything t’do with that. I'm the one who pushed her off the roof. I just.. WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON?!”

Violet went to speak but Marnie cut her off at the pass, “Simon told me to go see Miss Duval because I know how your magic works. But she told me I’d interfere with the trial.”

“How the hell would ye do that?”

Nathan’s nostrils flared like a horse. His green eyes darkened as he waited expectantly in Violet's direction.

“If she showed up with the chip that's evidence! The cops and Tony would know you stole from the casino. And the rest of them are criminals. Theyre fucking criminals and if they knew you ready had a record that could be used against you. ”

“I DIDN'T STEAL ANYTHING! I FUCKING CONJURED IT!!”

“I KNOW, BUT HOW DO I EXPLAIN THAT TO NORMAL HUMANS?!”

“BY MAKING ME PERFORM LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS MONKEY?!”

“YES!! BECAUSE YOUR HEAD IS TOO FAR UP YOUR ASS TO REALIZE WHAT YOU WERE UP AGAINST. AND NEITHER OF YOU IS SMART ENOUGH FOR ANY OTHER STRATEGY! SHE WOULD INCRIMINATE YOU!”

Nathan’s eyebrows creased, there was a quiet fury in his voice, “Then why the FUCK did ye tell Marnie to leave? Ye made me think everyone left me t’rot in jail. I didn't even get to say goodbye t’Alisha or Simon.

“If the District Attorney’s office found Marnie, she wouldn't know enough to plead the fifth. And you, you got arrested for STEALING FUCKING CANDY AND YOUR RESPONSE TO BEING ARRESTED TO TO CAUSE A FUCKING DISASTER FOR YOURSELF INSTEAD OF JUST SHUTTING UP. BECAUSE YOU'RE A PETULANT MAN-CHILD. THERE'S NO WAY WE COULD'VE WON WITH THE LOT OF YOU TOGETHER. You’re too fucking stupid to lie.”

Violet regretted them the moment the words fell out of her mouth. The baby started to cry and Marnie picked him up. She didn't look upset or angry with Violet. Disappointed.

“I didn't mean that, Nathan,” she reached for him but he yanked himself away out of her reach.

Nathan just looked at Violet. Those eyes, ever-changing in color were no longer furious or frustrated. Just full of sadness that tore her apart.

"You’re a treacherous bitch.”

Violet’s chest tightened as Nathan turned his back on her to throw clothes on. Her eyes stung while a blackness clouded her vision. As if she would faint. Yet when he returned, she had recovered before the tears could threaten her further.

“Good luck with this one, then. I've come to realize he'll never love anyone as much as he loves himself.”

Nathan maintained a deafening silence as he and Marnie made to leave, the baby back in his arms. That knife twisting in Violet's chest, an imaginary one to rival the way she had stabbed Nathan. How ignorant Violet had been to think this would ever work out.

“I'm not the one whose partner killed themself to get away from.” And then they were gone.

His heart yesterday for hers today.

#robert sheehan #nathan young #nathan x violet #robert sheehan character fics

[breanime]

Butterflies (Part Two)

Part Two to Butterflies!

Strong WARNINGS: language, descriptions of violence, veiled threats of further abuse, Nick Amaro quietly freaking the fuck out

*gif not mine*

The house was quiet; Nick was gone when you woke up, but you felt him press a kiss to your temple before he left. Now you sat at the kitchen table, reading the paper as you sipped your morning coffee. You’d been up well into the night cataloging witness statements for your latest case while Nick looked up locations for your wedding. You smiled as you thought about his excitement.

“You know, this place seems all nice and fancy on the surface, but we’ve busted them for prostitution at least three times in the last five years,” Nick said, laptop propped up on his knees.

You didn’t look up from your own laptop, shaking your head as you moved your files around. “How are they still open?”

“Friends in high places,” he answered, “You sure you don’t mind this? The big wedding and all the fanfare that comes with it?”

You looked up at your fiancé, smiling at the look of caution on his face. Nick was all for a traditional wedding with his kids and both your families there, but he said he’d be fine with just a trip to the courthouse for the two of you—whatever you wanted. “I’m sure,” you said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his waiting lips, “A big wedding will be fine, besides—how cute is Zara going to be in her dress?”

His grin widened. “So cute,” he agreed easily, “and her step-mom is going to look gorgeous…as soon as she picks her dress.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the headboard. Picking your dress was a nightmare; everything was either too fancy, too expensive, or too frilly. “Can’t you just pick one for me?” You whined, shifting the laptop and papers on your lap. “You have better taste than I do.”

“Well, I did pick you,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. You loved these kinds of moments, when it was just you and Nick, planning your future togethers and laughing. Later that night, after the two of you put your work away and laid in bed, holding each other, you felt those butterflies in your stomach as you pictured more nights like this, nights held by the man you loved, your lips on his and his hands on you. You couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Nick Amaro.

You floated on the memories of the previous night all the way to work, moving through your workload surprisingly quickly. You and Nick had exchanged a few texts throughout the day, and your hubby-to-be had sent you links to some sites that made affordable, custom wedding dresses. Satisfied with the amount and quality of work you’d done today, you leaned back in your chair and browsed some of the links Nick sent you. There was a knock on your door, and your secretary peeked her head in.

“Mrs. Amaro…” She began, smiling.

You rolled your eyes; she was almost as excited about your upcoming nuptials as you and Nick were. “Not an Amaro yet,” you corrected, chuckling.

“…Well, your witness for the Patterson case just called. She said she’s having second thoughts about her testimony?”

You sat up, dropping your phone on your desk. The Patterson case was a clear winner, and this girl was your star witness. “What? When? Why?”

“Just now, she didn’t say why…” She took a note from her pocket. “Asked if you could meet her at this address and go over it again?” She walked in, handing you the note. “She sounded…off…”

You stood up, grabbing your bag and chucking your phone in your pocket with the note. “I’m not gonna let her recant,” you said, determined, “Hold all my calls, I should be back in an hour.”

You stormed out of your office and into a cab, tapping your foot impatiently as the cabbie drove you to the address you’d given. You were so focused on what you were going to say to your witness, you didn’t even realize where the cab had dropped you off until he was driving away and you were standing in the street…

…alone.

You looked around, hand on your purse strap. The buildings around you were all abandoned and decrepit, and there was litter all over the street. You weren’t familiar with this neighborhood, and you knew, as you stood alone in the street, that your witness wasn’t there. You pulled out your phone, about to call the cab back, when you felt a leather-clad hand slap over your mouth. You wanted to scream—tried to scream—but the hand was suffocating you. You tried to fight, but the person dragged you into the building.

The butterflies were quickly replaced with the cold, harsh stab of utter fear.

Nick and Munch walked into the squad room, armed with all kinds of greasy take-out for the squad. They were debating the pros and cons of assigned seating at the reception when Nick noticed the grim look on Olivia’s face. Cragen and Fin were standing with her around her desk, and Rollins was clicking away at a computer close by, her face serious and concerned.

“Liv?” He titled his head slightly. “What’s going on?”

“Nick,” she said, her voice was soft and careful like when she spoke to victims, “When was the last time you spoke to Y/N?”

Nick’s blood went cold. “I—she texted me… an hour and a half ago—what’s going on?”

Olivia put her hands up, preparing herself to have to hold him back, he thought. “It might be nothing…” she started.

“What might be nothing?” Nick dropped the food on a desk, stepping up nervously. “Did something happen? Is she okay?”

“She went missing an hour ago,” Cragen reported, hands in his coat pockets, “Her secretary said she got a strange call from a witness to meet somewhere in the city…”

“But the witness called right after asking if she could come by the office,” Liv finished, “the secretary said the first call must have been fake, but when she tried to call Y/N back…” Liv took a breath, and Nick knew he wouldn’t like what was about to come out of his partner’s mouth. “…A man answered the phone and said… He said…”

“He said ‘the bitch is busy’,” Cragen finished for her, eyebrows furrowed, “then hung up.”

Nick moved—unable to keep still as the white-hot rage pounded in his bloodstream. He had questions, accusations, fears that needed to be let out and addressed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He slammed his hand on his desk, the sting barely registering in his brain.

“Nick, hey, Nick,” Olivia was suddenly next to him, her hand on his shoulder, steadying him, “We’re gonna find her, okay? Stay with us, we’re gonna find him…”

“We already got a few leads,” Fin spoke up, “Rollins is looking through the call log, trying to see who placed the call. The secretary is working with a detective to zero in on the address.”

“She doesn’t have it?” Nick asked, seething.

“She wrote it down and gave it to Y/N,” Olivia asked, “Nick, we’ve got uniforms patrolling the streets looking for her and—”

“—Oh,” Rollins sat up at her computer, eyes wide, “W-we got a hit on the number used to make the call…” She looked up, eyes darting from Nick, to Olivia, and back to Nick. “…It’s registered to Lucille Hemper…the mother of Andrew Hemper.”

Nick felt like he was about to black-out. Andrew Hemper was a violent misogynist who had attacked a handful of women and almost attacked you during interrogation. His trial was in progress, and as far as SVU knew, he had made bail and was on house arrest until his trial ended and the verdict was delivered. He was a non-issue; you had done some great legal work on his case, and the squad had provided more than enough evidence to convict him. But somehow he had skipped his tether and now…

Now he had you.

“I’m calling the judge now,” Cragen said, already power-walking to his office, “I want an APD out on Hemper immediately,” he ordered, and Rollins picked up the phone and started dialing, “Fin, Munch, I want you canvasing the area,” he turned and pointed to Olivia, “Stay with Amaro!”

Everything ached. When you blinked, it hurt. When you breathed, it hurt. When you hissed “you’re a weak, piece of garbage” at Hemper through your clenched, bloody teeth, it hurt. You were on the ground, lying on your side with your arms wrapped around yourself as Hemper stood above you. He had kicked and beat the shit out of you, but you knew him, you knew his type. If you showed any sign of weakness or fear, he’d win. And you weren’t going to let him win.

“You think this is all I got?” Hemper asked, breathing heavily as he paced in front of you. You could see speckles of your blood on his shoes, and you hoped he was leaving evidence all over the abandoned warehouse. You had pulled his hair and scratched his cheek pretty well in the struggle, and even if he killed you, you had his DNA under your fingernails. That thought made you feel a little better about the situation. “You think this is it?” He kicked you again, and you gasped as the air left your lungs. “No way, bitch,” he huffed, “no way this is it.”

You knew what he was implying, the threat underneath the threat, but you also knew his MO. He was all talk. “You…” Your voice was cracked, and you put a hand over your aching stomach, “you’re all out of juice…” You coughed. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your life in jail…”

“Nah,” he crouched down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him, “I’m in the wind. And if you’re lucky, I might take you with me…” You could feel his fingers tighten on your face, and you knew there’d be bruises. “…or I might let you die here.”

“Wh… What is it that you want, exactly?” You asked, trying to buy time. “You already broke free from your ankle bracelet.”

“I want you to tell everyone that you’re not smarter than me,” he answered, glaring down at you, “That you didn’t beat me. I want you to tell everyone that I’m the best, and that you’re nothing but a stupid bitch.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead, you swallowed, making an effort to make your eyes bigger. “You—you still have my phone, right?” You asked, adding an extra tremor to your voice for the full affect. “Maybe—maybe we can make a call?”

Nick was sitting in the locker room, his head in his hands. Everything and everyone were moving way too slowly for him, but he knew complaining wouldn’t help anyone—especially not you. Your secretary had come in, crying her eyes out, and gave her official statement. As your fiancé, Nick wasn’t technically allowed to be a part of the investigation, but Olivia “happened” to leave the door open as she interviewed the secretary, and he was able to keep up with what was going on.

It was going into hour three of your abduction, and they were nowhere closer to finding you than they had been at the beginning. Lucille Hemper had admitted that her son had disconnected his ankle bracelet and stolen her phone. She even surrendered her home computer—which was full of internet searches for abandoned warehouses in the city, as well as your recent cases. Nick had punched the wall when he heard that. Hemper had been keeping tabs on you since his arrest; collecting your stats and reading up on your cases.

He’d been stalking you. How his case worked and counselor hadn’t spotted that was beyond Nick.

He took a breath, staring at his shoes through watery eyes. You meant everything to him; in all of his life, all of his mistakes and trials and errors in love, you were the one thing he was sure of. Nick knew, when he looked at you, held you, kissed you, that you were the one for him, and he was the one for you. And now you were in the clutches of this psychopath, and there was nothing he could do… you were his fiancée, he was going to be your husband, and he couldn’t protect you.

He was worthless.

“Nick,” Olivia came in, breathless, “Hemper’s on the phone; Cragen’s talking with him now.”

Nick jumped up and followed Olivia out and into Cragen’s office. Nick’s blood boiled when he heard Hemper’s voice, but he stayed silent.

“…And I want a car, full tank, 4-wheel drive,” Hemper was saying, completely unaware that he was on speaker phone. TARU was in the room, tracing the signal and recording it. “I’m taking this bitch with me,” he said, and Nick clenched his fists, “as soon as I get a private plane out of the city, you can have her back…” He chuckled darkly, and Nick wanted to punch another wall—at least until he could punch Hemper. “…when I’m all done with her.”

“We got a signal,” the TARU officer whispered, waving Nick and Olivia over, “He’s stagnant, here’s the address.” He printed it out and handed it to Olivia. Nick snatched the paper out of her hand and ran out of the room, Olivia at his heels.

“Liv, don’t—” he began.

“—I’m coming with you,” she said, shocking him into silence, “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”

You were leaning on the wall now, still on the ground. Hemper was pacing back and forth, still blabbering on the phone to Cragen with his ridiculous demands. You figured they should have been able to trace the call by now, and you hoped someone was on the way soon. Hemper had tied your hands together with a zip tie, and they laid in your lap idly. You looked down at them, eyes locking onto the ring Nick had given you the day he’d proposed. You felt tears in the back of your throat as you thought of him, but you swallowed them down. You wouldn’t allow yourself to cry in front of Hemper. Your face was hurting almost as much as your body was. Hemper had slapped you around a bit more before he made the call, trying to build his confidence up to talk to Cragen, and now you were starting to feel dizzy. Hemper’s voice was starting to sound far away as he ranted about what a dumb bitch you were and how smart he was, exactly like you told him to. The longer he talked, the stronger the trace. You smirked to yourself, satisfied in that small victory, and let yourself nod off to sleep.

You woke up to a loud bang.

Startled, you blinked yourself awake just in time to see Hemper hit the ground, your phone falling out of his hand and breaking on the concrete floor.

“Suspect is down!” Olivia was shouting. “Call a bus!”

Hemper was groaning, and you turned to watch him. He was crying, and you saw him clutch his chest.

“Relax,” Olivia growled, flipping him over and digging her knee into his back as she cuffed him, “It’s only a rubber bullet.”

You wanted to laugh, but you were too tired. Your head sagged down again, and your eyes closed. You just wanted to sleep, and you were going to, until you heard that voice…

“Are you alright, mi amor?”

You opened your eyes to see Nick. His dark brown eyes were wide and worried, and his hands were on your face. He was trembling.

“Liv—where’s that bus?” He called, glancing behind him to address his partner. “Hey, baby, you’re okay, alright? I’m here, you’re okay.” He said to you, his voice low and soft.

You smiled, tasting blood. “Hey,” you whispered back, “Guess what? I didn’t lose the ring.” You flexed your hand, and Nick made a strangled, distressed sound at the sight of your bound hands.

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, and both of you relaxed at that small gesture. "Good job, baby," he said into your hair, “Just stay with me, okay? Talk to me.”

“I love you,” you said, and you felt the tears in your eyes.

“I love you, too,” Nick said back, a strained smile blooming on his worried face, “Did he—are you—?”

You shook your head, increasing your dizziness. “No,” you said, answering his unasked question, “No, he didn’t. I’m fine.” You sighed as Nick held you to him, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, mi amor,” he whispered, his lips on your ears, “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” you said, eyes closed and butterflies fluttering again, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Later, you let Olivia and Fin take your statement in the hospital. Your boss insisted you stay overnight in case you had a concussion, and Nick stayed at your side the entire time, watching as the doctor checked you out and the nurses treated your wounds. All in all, you had a broken wrist, severe bruises to your abdomen, legs, and arms, and a multiple cuts and lacerations. Nick took notes—actual handwritten notes—on how to best help you heal, nodding and charming the hell out of the nurses, and when they all left, he tucked you into your bed.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, amor? Anything you need?” He asked, voice low. You were tired, and he knew it.

“Can you hold me?” You asked back.

Nick crawled into the hospital bed with you, sitting behind you and wrapping his arms around you. He kissed the top of your head, and you relaxed under his touch. “I’ll hold you every day,” he promised, “for the rest of my life.” He reached down and held your hand, a finger gently brushing against your ring. “For the rest of our lives.”

You looked back up at him, and you saw the depth of his love and affection for you in his warm eyes. You felt those butterflies start flying around again, and you knew you were safe and loved and cherished with Nick, and that you always would be. “Nick?”

“Mm?”

“I found my dress,” you informed him, heart pounding at the sight of Nick’s angelic smile, “I think you’re gonna like it.”

Nick kissed your head again, making you giggle. “Baby, you could wear a shower curtain, and I’d be happy.” He nuzzled into your hair. “As long as you’re safe. As long as you’re with me.”

“You’ll always keep me safe,” you took his hand and kissed his knuckle, lips lingering on the bruise he got from punching the wall, “Love you, Nick.”

“I love you, too,” he said, arms wrapped around you tight, kissing the side of your head, “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?”

“I’ll be here every morning.”

You closed your eyes, letting the sound of Nick’s breathing, the feel of him behind you—sturdy and warm, and the butterflies in your stomach lull you to sleep.

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

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[thedevillord-writes]

Pandora - Understand

"Any fool can know. The point is to understand"

-Albert Einstein

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Waiting for Yosuke to speak, Haruka was almost falling asleep. The combination of late night and alcohol was slowly draining her energy, and she was getting tired of waiting for him. On the other hand, Yosuke seemed to be nervous; a feat that would never be associated with him. In the time she had known him for, he had always been the most confident person. He never hesitated, at least not when it came to annoying her. Though now, he was downing his fifth drink in a row and still had not uttered a single word.

As he poured himself yet another drink, Haruka stopped him. He knew he would not be able to escape forever, though he had been hoping that she would have knocked out before he had to talk. His plan fell through, obviously.

Yosuke let out a sigh, knowing he was unable to escape any longer. Knocking back one last shot, he was finally prepared to speak. "When I was in high school, I met someone. They were a freshman, and I was a junior. They were having a hard time making friends, so I became their friend. She's from a prestigious family, she'd be a great connection to have. And at that time, I was already developing the idea for my matchmaking business and she was the perfect test candidate. Everything was going well, and the data I collected was really useful.

"Life improved for her too. She comes from a difficult family but during the time we spent together, she became happier. Honestly, my life changed too. It really felt like we were a couple...actually, I think at some point, it became real for me too. But you know how the dramas flow, tragedy strikes when you're at your happiest. She found out my intentions and got mad, rightfully so. She transferred overseas and I've never seen her again."

"Until recently," Haruka stated. "So that's the story between you and the pianist?"

"What pianist? I didn't say a name."

"But you said 'she'," she pointed out. "The only woman you act weird around is that pianist so it has to be her."

Even when intoxicated, Haruka was sharp. Seeing her again stirred up a lot of feelings inside Yosuke. He thought he would be okay, treating her like anyone else he would in his life. If he was being honest, he would not be upset at all if Haruka was to cut all ties with him. He would be bored, sure, but only for a little while before he found another toy. To have all these emotions in him was a new experience for Yosuke. All his life, he tried so hard compartmentalising everything that sometimes, those around him wondered if he truly had emotions.

Although their stories were completely different, Haruka understood how Yosuke felt.

She only wanted the best life for her sisters, and she did everything she could to make sure she did. When their mother passed away, Haruka was only sixteen. She knew her mother's wish was for the three sisters to stay together so to avoid being separated, Haruka took up the maternal role. She started a part time job at a maid café; flexible hours around her classes with a high pay, it was more than she could ask for. But Haruko was displeased. She became vile in the eyes of her sister's, a teenage girl who was willing to sell her body to please weird men for money.

When the opportunity for a better job arose, Haruka grabbed it and landed a job as Eisuke's secretary. She thought it would improve her relationship with Haruko but it only worsened. She was called a gold digger who abandoned her family. No matter what Haruka did, her sister would find fault in it. Still, she felt as if she owed it to Haruko. The life they lived had not been easy, and Haruka understood that there was always something better that her sisters longer for out there.

"Do you still love her?" Haruka asked. "You said it became real for you too. Did you ever tell her?"

"No, I did not," Yosuke said, taking yet another drink. "And I wouldn't call what I feel for her love. Just...that I care for her more than others."

"Do you think about her all the time?" Haruka asked. "Like...you had a sandwich and you wish she was there to share with you? Or you heard a piano playing and you thought it might be her?" Yosuke nodded. "Okay, does it hurt when you see her hurting? Do you smile when she's happy? Do you look her in the eyes and know immediately that she's lying about how she's feeling at the moment?" Again, Yosuke nodded. "That's love, you fool."

Moving closer to Yosuke, Haruka placed her head on his shoulder and let out a sigh. Her answers to her own questions would be all yes, if asked about Eisuke. She had been trying to deny her feelings but now that she was confronting Yosuke, it was as if she was confronting herself too. She wanted to see Eisuke again. She wanted to be so close that she could smell his cologne that had become comforting over the years. She wanted to be held in his arms and told that he loved her like she did him. However, reality was often disappointing as she was nowhere near Eisuke. She was simply drinking with Yosuke, depressed about a different issue from when she began.

Taking in a deep breath, Haruka frowned a little. She turned her head and buried her nose in Yosuke's suit, taking in another deep breath. Since when did he start using the same cologne as Eisuke? She looked up to meet his eyes and for a good minute, they were just staring at each other when they both started to move in instinctively.

"Eisuke..."

Their lips were inches away from touching when Haruka blurted out her boss' name. It hit Yosuke and woke him up instantly. He pulled away and covered Haruka's lips with his hand. They both had way too much to drink, and if they were to continue, Haruka would be doing something she would seriously regret. The Yosuke before meeting Haruka would not have cared whether she would regret, as long as they were both consenting. After all, he never said no to a night of good fun. Knowing how deep her feelings for Eisuke were now, however, Yosuke could never bring himself to do anything to her. Not when he had feelings he never knew about for someone else too.

"It was a mistake bringing you into my life," Yosuke sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. "I was supposed to be doing the meddling, not the other way round."

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"What the hell is this garbage?!"

Yumi flinched as Eisuke threw the file she handed him across the room. All eyes in the lounge were on them, though this was not the first occurrence. Just this morning alone, Eisuke had lost his temper with her more times than she could count. He disliked her coffee, complained that her shoes were too loud, and her clothes were too colourful. The document he threw across the room apparently was riddled with mistakes; mistakes that she was ordered to correct to by Eisuke himself.

"That was what you told me to type up."

"A dog could do your job better than you. At least the dog can be trained."

"I understand why Haruka-san quit."

"What did you just say?"

She stepped over the line with her last comment, Yumi knew. She had enough, however, of taking his temper. She would never understand how Haruka managed to stand this for eight long years. No matter how much you loved someone, if they were to yell at you over the smallest things every day, that love would be shaved down to nothing eventually. Perhaps that was exactly why Haruka left, because her love for him no longer existed. If she wanted to lose her job and hurt Eisuke, Yumi would have said that thought out loud.

Right now, however, she was fearing for her own life.

The look in Eisuke's eyes was one that she had never seen before. She had seen him angry, frustrated, irritated, though his only reaction during those times would be to scowl at her and move on. He was furious this time. Despite fearing for her career and life, Yumi somehow found the courage to open her mouth again.

"I said-"

"Okay! Let's stop right there," Baba said, stepping into the conversation. "Whatever you were going to say, please don't," he whispered, pulling Yumi away from Eisuke and kept her behind his back. "I think Yumi-chan needs a day off. Right, Boss?" Without giving an answer, Eisuke headed up the stairs to his suite. Baba let out a soft sigh before looking to Yumi. "Are you out of your mind?"

"He was being unreasonable."

"Go home," Baba smiled, giving her a gentle pat on her shoulder. "I'll fix this for you."

Looking up the stairs, Baba could not help but let out another heavier sigh, closing his eyes. There were days when he wished Soryu was not around; today was not one of those days. With heavy steps, Baba headed up the stairs to Eisuke's suite. As he stood outside his office, Baba was really praying for Soryu's return although he knew it was impossible, not unless the mobster learnt how to teleport from Hong Kong. He raised his hand to knock on the door but stopped himself the last second, hesitating. This was not what he wanted to be doing on a weekend.

"Either you come in or leave. Don't loiter around outside my office."

"I wasn't loitering," Baba smiled, opening the door. "I was just...surveying."

"If you are here on behalf of Yumi, save your breath. She is clearly not competent enough for the job, lacking in both IQ and EQ."

"To be honest, no one will ever have enough EQ to work for you," Baba pointed out.

Eisuke shot him a glare from across the desk, though Baba still took a seat. Although he only met Eisuke a few years ago, he had heard rumours about how many secretaries he went through in his short term as an executive before the existence of Tres Spades. Everyone in the company was surprised when Haruka survived past her first month. Baba was surprised too, when he met them for the first time. Sometimes, Eisuke could be a little too much to handle for the gang but Haruka never complained.

"What are you trying to say?" Eisuke asked, with a deep frown.

"I'm just saying what you're thinking out loud. Besides Haruka, no one will ever be good enough to work for you." Eisuke's frown deepened, if possible, at Baba's statement. Even if that was the truth, he would never admit it out loud. "I know you're frustrated that Haruka left. We all miss her too. And if I'm being honest, I'm not used to not having her around either. I miss the coffee she makes."

"Get to the point."

"The point is, don't take your frustration out on Yumi. Nobody can be Haruka, and you can't force someone to be her either. If you miss her, go and see her. I don't know much about Haruka but she's a very simple person. She wants a simple life, someone she can rely on. Someone who will love her unconditionally forever."

Eisuke's expression relaxed a little, though he kept quiet while thinking about what Baba said. Yumi was not a bad secretary. She was young and inexperienced, but she was willing to learn. When Haruka was still around, Yumi always took the initiative to draft documents, ask her questions, and all other operations of the hotel. She knew Haruka's way worked with him and did her best to imitate. Yet, Eisuke kept finding flaws in her and magnified them.

With Haruka, Eisuke had been equally unfair to her. He never thought of the reasons why she wanted time away from work, nor did he try to understand the reason behind her resignation. He was angry at her, for abandoning her job and him after years of cooperation. How could she be so selfish when he still needed her? Baba made him understand, however, that Haruka needed him by her side too.

~.~

If there was anything Eisuke would praise Baba on, that would be his efficiency. It was not a word most people would associate with Baba but there was no denying how fast he could produce information Eisuke needed, and the quality. With just a morning's notice, Baba was able to produce a full report on Haruka's family by the afternoon. Holding the file in his hand, Eisuke was contemplating whether or not he should read it. He never asked Haruka about her family, nor did she tell him much. With this file in hand, it felt like he was violating her privacy.

In the end, he gave in.

Her mother was Matsuoka Hanae, a woman born into poverty. She never went to high school but instead, started working at a young age. Every single job she had worked was listed but there was a period of four years completely blanked out with no information: no job, no address, no medical records. Then Haruka was born, but no father was named. Instead, they moved to an apartment just outside of Tokyo and her mother resumed working several jobs to support her. Eight years later, her sister Haruko was born, and two years after that, Haruna.

There was nothing of interest from her file; while they lived a difficult life, it was simple. Her mother worked hard to support the family but passed away at a young age. Haruka took over and became the pillar of her family. There were two things that stood out, however: her anonymous father, and the fact that her sisters live at a different address to her.

After reading, Eisuke felt closer to Haruka. He was starting to understand her better, and missing her even more.

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Eisuke was very much a man of action. Whenever he had a plan in mind, he was quick to put it into action. Much like his hotel. As soon as the thought of seeing Haruka entered his mind, he was already on his way. By the time he realised what he was doing, he was parked on the road opposite her apartment. It was already late afternoon, and peering into her window from his car was a bit of hard work though he could not see any movement inside indicating her presence. Was she napping? Was she out? If so, how long before she came home?

The answer did not matter to Eisuke; he was not leaving until he saw her.

He got out of his car, locking the doors and leaned on the hood. He wanted to be able to see Haruka as she was coming home, and for her to see him as soon as she came into sight. What would her reaction be when she saw him? Surprised? Disappointed? Irritated? Eisuke was trying hard not to let negative thoughts affect him but just today he realised that he did not know Haruka very well; he could be wrong about her feelings this whole time.

It did not take long before the person he had been longing to see finally appeared. She rounded the corner on the right, dressed in just a jumper with sweatpants, holding a bag of groceries in one hand. Eisuke straightened himself as soon as he saw her, holding his breath as he waited to notice her. A couple of metres away, she finally did.

"Mr. Ichinomiya..."

Her voice was soft but it was still the same warm, kind, and sweet voice he was so used to. All his frustrations, all his troubles, they melted away at just her uttering his name. This was a dangerous power she had over him.

"Haruka-"

"Don't," she interrupted. "Don't come near me. And whatever you were going to say, don't say it."

Since that night with Yosuke, Haruka could not stop thinking about Eisuke. There was no denying what she felt for him was love, but her struggles were whether or not she should go through with it like everyone around her was telling her to. Every woman dreamt of a man like Eisuke: handsome, wealthy, and in power. What she wanted was much simpler, a man who loved her. She had no confidence in herself to know that Eisuke would keep loving her as he did today. She did not want to find out five, ten years down the road that he no longer needed her in his life.

"I...Being away from you made me realise how much I love you," Haruka said. "I wake up thinking about you, go to sleep thinking you. Everything is about you. And it hurts. It hurts so much knowing that I love you but we can never be. I'd rather hurt now than hurt for ten years later on, wondering if you still love me. I don't ask you for much, Mr. Ichinomiya, but I'll ask this of you. Please, just let me go. Turn around, go home, and forget me. Let me go."

Despite her initial plea for him to keep away, Eisuke moved closer as she spoke. He could not help himself, especially when tears were starting to roll down her cheeks. He would never understand why she was so afraid of a relationship, especially one with him. She did not understand, either, that never had Eisuke ever wanted anything so badly. Or the fact that he would never love anyone as much as he did her.

He reached out with one hand to wipe her tears, expecting her to move away but to his surprise, she leaned her cheek into his hand. Eisuke held her face in both hands, leaning in closer to her. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips on hers. Just a moment ago, she was telling Eisuke to let her go yet, Haruka did not resist and kissed back just as passionately as he did. No words were needed as they both knew what the other was thinking. It was a cliché to say but it felt like they were the only ones in the world. The only ones who mattered to each other.

Pulling away from the kiss, they were both breathing heavily as they stared into each other's eyes. Eisuke caressed her cheek gently and wrapped his arms around her tightly, putting one hand on her head. He was not a person to make promises lightly, nor did he take them lightly, but he was going to make a promise to Haruka. He promised to love her now and forever.

"I'm sorry, I cannot do as you asked," he whispered. "Because I can never let you go."

#pdr ch17 #kissed by the baddest bidder #kbtbb #kings of paradise #kop #eisuke ichinomiya #yosuke sagara #voltage inc #after 5 million years I have updated #i kept changing this chapter but i feel like it's time #finally getting some fluff y'all

[noahrambles-blog]

Introduction - Who the fuck am I?

Hello void!

I made this blog so I could shout my questions into the void. My gender has been a big question for such a long time, but I’ve only started really wondering and analyzing recently. I feel like every step forward I make, I slowly inch backwards to where I was. Every epiphany, realization, moment of “thank you god I finally understand” eventually regresses back to confusion and frustration.

I’ve decided to start writing these realizations down. I find it’s easier to write to an audience, and frankly I hate writing in MS word. So, here I am, shouting into the void that is Tumblr. I’m not looking for advice from others, reassurance, nothing. I need to sit in my feelings and dig deep. I can’t get external validation or thoughts or questions or concerns. I’m just way too sensitive to others telling me what to do. Others’ expectations have forced me into the dark closet for too long and well, I’m done.

I’m in therapy currently to break down my past, which includes my parents’ expectations and the very traditional gender roles I grew up immersed in. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere in understanding my gender, I explain it away as “Oh, I’m just being sexist and stuck in those gender roles and stereotypes”. I was a tomboy as a kid? Doesn’t mean anything, girls can be masculine. Etc., etc.

Add on to all the fun confusion, that my partner came out as trans about a year ago. I love my wife dearly and I know she loves me too, no matter what (she’s well aware of everything I’m writing), but I worry that I’m only having these feelings because she’s having these feelings. When I met her, she told me how much she loved a particular video game, and I played it and loved it too, and we bonded over it. Same thing happened with multiple TV shows, hell, even backpacks vs laptop bags. Would I have loved these things without her influence? Granted, there are things that she loves that I don’t. She loves sardines on toast. Gross, right? Other games that I’ve tried and wasn’t a big fan of, instruments, drinks. We’re different people, but we basically grew up together, so of course we have similar interests and we both try each others’ interests. And since we’re so similar, there will be lots of overlap. And that’s okay! (I think. I hope.)

I think that this has really come up more in the past few years because my wife’s sibling came out as non-binary, which frankly, I knew what it was but not much more than that. Their experiences really mirrored my own, but because they used a lot of the same gender role language in their explanation, I wrote it off as them just being a bit sexist. But I fully supported them regardless. 

Add on the fact that I moved out of my toxic parents’ house into an apartment with my wife. Meaning day-to-day I can just be...myself, rather than bending to fit this expectation they enforced on me. But I’d been under their thumb for so long, that I don’t really know who I am? 

I was depressed for a really long time. I moved to Canada at 14, and the long winters only exacerbated it. I only feel like I’ve just come out of the fog. A few weeks ago, I went to my therapist to talk all this gender stuff out. I woke up the next morning feeling like garbage, but the two days after that? I haven’t felt that good in a long time. And I got married 10 months ago. I woke up with energy and motivation and desire. I wanted to go shopping and get new clothes, go to the movies, go out and have some beer. I just wanted to be out on the town and in public. I’ve been spending all my time in my apartment for years, so it was pretty weird.

My wife’s sibling got top surgery earlier this year and gave me their binders (since they didn’t need them anymore!) The first time I tried one on, I had a half second of “fuck yeah” followed by hours of utter dread and despair. I’m not 100% sure what caused it, but I think it was from the realization that it didn’t make me completely flat. I didn’t wear it again for a few weeks, but one day I tried it again on a whim, and I haven’t really gone a day without wearing one since. I don’t love the 8 hour time limit (and I work 8.5-9 hours per day, so it’s often a lot longer, which I know is bad) and I don’t love the, well, binding feeling. But it’s nice to be warm all the time!

My other big indicator was when my wife bought me a strap on. We’d discussed me topping a few times in the past and once she came out, she was really interested. So we ordered a strapless dildo. But I couldn’t for the life of me figure it out. If it was in me, it wasn’t in her, and vice versa. We probably did this for 15, 20 minutes, and I was just getting more and more frustrated and upset. I kept trying, even though I was not really in the mood anymore. And then! It was in both of us! And I could move it! And it was so exciting! And then I was hit (again) by a wave of dread and despair. I couldn’t feel anything. I knew my wife was loving it, but I felt like dying. I couldn’t feel anything! I pulled out and laid down and cried. I’m sure my wife was so flustered, it did sort of come out of nowhere from her perspective. 

We haven’t used that dildo again, but I convinced myself afterward that my breakdown was due to my frustration - I’m really bad at being bad at things. I need to be really good at things, otherwise I get frustrated and quit. 

Because of this, we decided to buy a harness and try that instead. We went on vacation and we tried it out. Hoo boy, it was amazing! Looking down and seeing it gave me so much joy! (We had some awesome sex that night. Even me not being able to feel anything didn’t kill the vibe).

We’ve had sex a few times since then, but each time I get a little more dysphoric. We haven’t done anything recently, because I was hoping to analyze what’s going on without the dysphoria during sex, and overall pressure to perform. Since my wife came out, she’s much harder to read. It’s hard to tell what she’s into and what she’s not, because her tastes changed too. I know this means that we should do it more, but I’ve been getting overwhelmed trying to pleasure her, when my new dysphoria has also changed my own tastes and what I like and don’t like. I don’t really ‘finish’ much anymore, partially because my wife isn’t taking initiative and I have a really hard time asking for what I want or need. And I know sex isn’t about that, but all of these factors make it difficult to want it.

So in the meantime, life has been difficult and confusing. But also I’ve been happier than I have been in a while? The mornings aren’t as difficult, sleep comes more easily, I have more confidence day-to-day. And this is all just from considering these issues.

I bought all these gender-affirming clothes (I USED THE TERM GENDER-AFFIRMING CLOTHES BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT MY GENDER IS WHAT THE FUCK) that are honestly amazing, even though they’re super simple men’s clothes. Boxer briefs are literally my new favorite things. 

I think I’m definitely on the masculine end of the spectrum. Going back to wearing panties (and I always wore granny panties) and bras makes me feel gross, not to mention women’s lingerie. Dresses and skirts are a huge no. Heels are a hell no. Wearing my binder makes me feel like a person. So am I non-binary or a transgender man?

What I do know is this:

- I’ve never wanted to be a mom, but I really like the idea of being a dad. I don’t know what the difference is, but apparently there is one.

- I’ve always disliked my voice - anytime I hear it played back, it makes me feel physically ill. I wish it was deeper. I need to work on stopping artificially raising it (it is relatively low for someone who is AFAB and when I felt that I needed to be feminine and lovely and whatever, I learned to raise it and now it’s kinda stuck in “customer service mode”)

- I like the idea of getting smaller hips through fat redistribution. This dysphoria is actually new today. I haven’t had any issues with this but today I saw myself in the mirror and looked back at past pictures and my hips look massive.

- Surprisingly, the idea of bottom growth on t doesn’t weird me out? 

- I’m terrified of hair loss.

- I really want to fully embrace the academic professor aesthetic. I love the collared shirt under sweater look. I just need some elbow patches and a tweed blazer. I already have the oxfords.

- I’m terrified at the thought of coming out to anyone except my wife. Part of my family would be chill, the other would not. My work is made up of quite conservative people and even the “allies” are misguided. My immediate coworkers would probably be okay with a transition to a binary gender, but I feel like asking for they/them pronouns would result in being misgendered constantly. But I guess I’m being misgendered constantly anyway.

- I’m feeling less and less connection to my pronouns/feminine descriptors. It just doesn’t feel like me.

- I want to get stronger so I can pick up and toss around my wife cause I feel like she’d love that. And I think it would be kinda fun too. I already love pushing her onto the bed. Picking her up and tossing her onto the bed? Hot.

Anyway. This was a lot and was basically just me pouring my thoughts onto this page. There will definitely be more to come.

Goodnight!

Noah

[delia-pavorum]

#38 + university enemies turned lovers AU please!

Prompt #38 AKA “You want to explain the drunk voicemail you left me last night?” They weren’t exactly enemies and they don’t quite reach lovers, but—well, just read it. 

Enjoy!

The buzzing woke her up.

It was incessant, like a mosquito flying around her ear. Or drilling into her brain.

With an audible groan, Rey threw her arm out towards her bedside table, hitting a (luckily empty) glass of water, her eight-dollar IKEA lamp, and a small dish of loose change, before grasping the instrument of torture that had awoken her from what she assumed was only her third hour of sleep. Glancing at the time as she clicked her screen, she confirmed that this was, indeed, the case.

Groaning again, she blearily focused on the message preview that assaulted her senses as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of her dorm room. In her periphery, she could see Rose shifting in her bed, before letting out a soft snore and continuing her slumber. Lucky bitch.

You want to explain the drunk voicemail you left me last night?

Rey did a double take and peered more closely at the message before glancing up at the name.

Ben History.

Ben? History? Ben Hist— Fucking TA BEN?

“Oh, my godddd.” Her third groan of the morning turned into a long, drawn-out, verbalized moan as she died a little inside.

Fucking TA Ben.

Professor Snoke’s assistant from her Russian History elective last semester and - she was convinced - the reason she passed that course. Though, admittedly, it wasn’t as if he had outwardly shown any sort of inclination or preference towards her in any way.

Not in tutorial, when he looked down his nose at whatever question she asked and answered with a barely stifled sigh preceding any dialogue.

Not in class, and particularly not when Professor Snoke had reamed her out in front of the entire lecture hall for falling asleep with her head in her hand (thank you job number two, the night shift at the university pub) and he had just sat there in the corner, barely adjusting his glasses as he read over papers.

And not outside of class, where she never saw him. Ever.

No, it was a fact. Mr. Solo AKA Ben History AKA TA Ben was a dick. For all intents and purposes, he had never for even a second belied anything less than purely professional - and for the most part barely cursory - interest in her.

Except for her papers.

Ben Solo was a notoriously hard marker. Rose and Finn had devised the idea of taking Russian History, instead of the more popular Sociology courses, the previous year (yeah, Rey was late on the uptake with her humanities electives, what of it) and had subsequently bitched about TA and professor both; but Rey, always up for a challenge (some may call it pigheaded, willfully ignorant, inability to learn from her mistakes or the mistakes of others—) decided to give it a shot, too. Just to prove she could.

Ha.

Twenty-page research papers on the rise of Moscow, the destruction of the Soviet Union, the Cold War. End notes, works cited, bloody footnotes to her footnotes. It had been pure torture. But she had worked her ass off on each and every one and, in the end, had reaped the benefits.

Er, somewhat. While her peers were receiving grades of Cs and lower, she was coming out with Bs and the occasional B+. The comments were standard, mostly critical: arguments she could have improved on, syntax issues, exclusion of the Oxford comma (who bloody cared about the Oxford fucking comma), and so on. But then, in the end, the same line every time, scrawled in a haphazard cursive, the letters flowing together in a pleasingly desultory way:

A pleasure to read.

Those four words did something to her. She, who could count the kind words she’d received in her lifetime on her fingers and toes with socks on, who had always been the kid that nobody expected much of, who had always - at most - gotten a blinking, surprised: “Oh. Well done.” when she had accomplished anything in an above-average way, had felt a little sparkle of pleasure every time she got the bottom of the last page and saw that line.

And, since her childhood abandonment issues all but guaranteed a fucked up, overcompensatory response to anyone who showed her even a modicum of attention or kindness, she had obviously developed a monster crush.

In short, Ben Solo had ended up being the one good part of a shitty class. He marked her fairly and, as a bonus, was nice to look at and listen to and imagine all the filthy things she’d like to—

Oh god. Oh god. What had the voicemail said?

With shaky hands, she opened up the message and read it over again five times.

Drunk voicemail. Drunk voicemail.

Why couldn’t she remember calling him? All TAs had their phone numbers at the top of the syllabus along with their email address and office hours, but as far as she knew, nobody had actually called one. At the beginning of the semester, around the time she had gotten her first paper back from him, she had plugged the number into her phone - just in case - giving him the surname History to denote her association with him (the same way fellow contacts were Rose Roomie, BFFinn, and The Douchebag, a friend-by-association that Finn had recently become infatuated with).

As to why she couldn’t remember calling him—

The answer, if her pounding head wasn’t enough evidence, manifested further as Rose loudly snored again and rolled over, smacking her lips together and mumbling to herself.

They had gotten wasted last night. End of semester finals plus “We’re losing Finn to Poe” blues plus impromptu Girls’ Night plus plus plus, and she had ended up puking in the garbage cans outside their building while Rose cheered her from behind like garbage can puking was an Olympic event and Rey was on her way to a gold medal. (Which, for the record, she would have won).

She must have made the call at some point during the later part of the evening, but before the vomiting, when she was already three Jagerbombs deep, plus countless tequila shots and some whipped cream monstrosity called a blow job or a muff dive or some other, equally vulgar and heinous name–

Practically frozen in terror, she scrolled through her recent calls.

Fuuuuuck.

Sure enough, right at the top. Ben History. Three- no four times dear god. At 3:06, 3:07, 3:10, and 3:22 (ah, yes, Rey, a twelve-minute gap. Make him work for it, as they say.)

Did she leave four voicemails? Just the one? Somewhere in between? What did they say? What did they say?

“Kill me,” she prayed to the ceiling. “Please. Just do it. Kill me now so I don’t have to deal with this, ever, in my godforsaken life.”

I’ll do you one better, God responded, probably, because instead of being struck by lighting, a call came through.

Ben History.

She laughed mirthlessly up at the ceiling - still maintaining your track record with me, eh ol’ boy. Glad some things don’t change - before scowling as she looked down at the name on her buzzing phone. Might as well get this shit over with.

She rushed out into the hallway to answer so she wouldn’t wake-up Rose. The corridor was completely empty - it was only just past seven A.M. after all and it’s not as if her and Rose were the only college students on campus who had the bright idea of drinking to celebrate the end of Finals - and Rey answered as she continued to walk through the dead hallway and out the door.

“Hi,” she said, mournfully. Too late for pretences now, anyway.

“Oh.” The responding deep voice sent an inadvertent shiver through her body. “I actually wasn’t expecting you to be awake.”

“Yeah.” Rey stepped out into the cool, misty April morning air, briefly regretting her decision to not grab a sweater as goosebumps rose up on her bare arms and legs. “Your, er, text woke me up.” The panic and humiliation spiral immediately afterwards also helped shake off the remnants of sleep. I may never sleep again, in fact.

“Right. Well, I thought you’d want to know—”

“Listen,” Rey cut him off, partially for fear of whatever he had to say and partially to say her own piece before he could verbally eviscerate her and/or threaten her scholarship and the progression of her degree or whatever else happened to errant, drunken students who called their former TAs and left explicit voicemails. “I’m sorry I called you and said all that shit, I was completely wasted. I know it was wildly inappropriate. And it’s not like—” Fuck, what are some of the insane things I probably said? “—I mean, you’re obviously very attractive and tall and built and I mean, yeah, you’ve got unbelievably good shoulders and I’m sure I brought up the fantasy of you carrying me in your arms shirtless, but the truth is—”

“Rey.”

Her name out of his mouth brought her up short. In tutorial she had been—what, Ms. Johnson? Or usually just nothing. A nod or “yes, you” in the general vicinity of where she was sitting. He knew her name?

“You know my name?” Smooth.

An abbreviated sigh. Ah, yes. If there were ever any doubt as to who was on the other end of the line, this telltale moderation of his annoyance eliminated it completely.

“I know your name,” he confirmed. “And the voicemail you left me didn’t say anything about my—“ A pause. “—shoulders.” Another pause. Rey’s skin began to get that prickly feeling that usually preceded the wash of utter mortification coursing through one’s body. “In fact, you barely said anything at all. After I picked up my phone the fourth time it started ringing at three A.M.—” Ah, yes, hello humiliation, my old friend, she thought at the liquid heat spreading through her limbs, “—at first all I could hear was indecipherable yelling and then someone loudly singing the chorus of ‘Living on a Prayer’.”

“Oh, god.” Her horror manifested in the loudest groan conceivable at this revelation. Pieces of the night were starting to filter in now, penetrating the haze of her hangover- and humiliation-induced migraine.

“I almost hung up, but then you came on the line. Initially I couldn’t understand you, but then you said something about me being the bright spot to a shitty class and how you loved being my pleasure—”

Rey hiccuped in despair. Why couldn’t she have just talked about his shoulders?

“—Which I didn’t quite understand. But then you said—” He paused again, almost as though he needed to gather his thoughts, and Rey held her breath at the infinite possibilities of self-inflicted degradation that were to come, “—you moved to a quieter area and you said thank you to me for making you feel worthy. You said it felt nice to know that your efforts weren’t for nothing.”

Cool. Cool cool cool. They still had engineering programs in Siberia, right? She wondered if her scholarship was transferable. Fuck it. I’ll just move to Florida. Maybe a crocodile will eat me.

Grasping at straws, Rey responded, “You know, I actually don’t remember any of that. I think maybe I didn’t call you at all. Maybe it was my friend Rose playing a prank or—”

He cut her off: “At the end you said ‘by the way, this is Rey Johnson.” Fuck. “And, regardless, I recognized your voice.”

Hey, now. He did?

“You did?” Uggghh.

Silence.

“Okay, er,” Rey began as the silence stretched out to unbearable lengths, “well. It is true that I liked your comments - your final comment, always - on my papers. It is also true that I like your shoulders. I’m not sure who told you anything about carrying me shirtless—”

“You said that.”

“Regardless of how these rumours get spread,” she continued through gritted teeth, “I sincerely apologize for calling you at such an obscene time, er, repeatedly, and also for assaulting your ears with Bon Jovi and the drunken ramblings of a psychologically-damaged pseudo-adult—”

“I liked your papers, Rey,” Ben interrupted and, for the first time, he sounded a bit - thawed. Unsure. Not warm, exactly, but not really holding back either. “You were the only one who got that comment at the end and I meant it. That course is—I mean, it’s two hundred-level, but with no prerequisite and we get a lot - a lot - of students who just couldn’t give a shit. And I know History isn’t your program and that you probably just took it to fill an elective, but I—” A pause and an inhale. Then: “I’m glad you did.”

Rey thankfully stopped herself just short of responding “You are?” and instead, a little breathlessly, answered: “Me, too.”

“Your efforts weren’t for nothing,” he added, quietly. “Not to me.”

“Oh, Ben.” It was the first time she had said his name out loud and she heard his breath catch slightly.

“Where are you right now?” he asked, his voice a touch hoarse.

“Uhh…” She looked around at the outside of her building, noting ruefully the garbage can that likely still held her vomit. “I’m just outside my dorm. In my pajamas.” She involuntarily shivered as she once again became aware of the damp coolness of the morning air, now that the steam of mortification had waned a bit.

He clucked lightly under his breath, mother-henning ever so slightly, and the warmth came back. “It’s cool out, you should get dressed. And then maybe—” He broke off.

“And then maybe what?” she breathed, feeling her cheeks flush.

“Well, you’re still a student, but I’m not your TA anymore and technically I’m a student, too, although I’m much - like a lot - older, but maybe—”

“But maybe what?” she urged, unable to stop the smile from splitting her face.

“Maybe we can grab a coffee or something?” he finished in a rush. “We don’t have to talk about Russian History.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Rey deadpanned.

Ben huffed out a laugh. “In fact, let’s talk about anything but Russia.”

“Or Bon Jovi,” Rey added, chagrined.

“Or my shoulders.”

“Hey, now,” Rey protested. “Let’s not be too hasty.” He let out a genuine laugh and she couldn’t help but laugh in return.

“So.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “What do you say? Is it a date?”

“Oh, Mr. Solo.” She grinned back at him, hoped he could hear it, too, loud and clear. “It would be my pleasure.”

now what? –> see all my prompt fills | fic master post | ask me anything

#my fics #reylo fics #reylo fanfiction #reylo modern au #TA vs student dynamics #it's not illegal right? #shit maybe it is #oh well #that's why it's called fiction #prompt fills #the belonging you seek

[writingrei]

fragmented memories | chapter 10

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 11 | chapter 12 

Once his body was clear in the moonlight, Inuyasha ceased approaching as he stared at Kagome. She couldn’t tell what emotion was written on his face, he was just utterly flat.

Inuyasha's demonic energy is so overwhelming… It almost makes me nauseous, Kagome thought.

Kohaku emerged from next to Inuyasha, coming a bit closer to the two girls than the half demon. Sango did not let this opportunity slip through her hands again, her body forcing itself to run at Kohaku.

“Kohaku!” she cried longingly, holding out her arms as the boy grew nearer.

He did not try and run, letting the older demon slayer embrace him tightly with his head in her hand. Sango held her younger brother close to her, her eyes not hesitating to fill with tears to stream down her face. She slowly inched away from Inuyasha, who did not look at her, and closer to Kagome.

Kagome was glued to the spot, not knowing whether it'd be safe for her to run and hug Inuyasha or just stay put to see what he wanted. Her wound throbbed, getting the blood in her body rushing through her arm. Her body took a step forward, then another and another as the distance between her and Inuyasha got smaller.

She was now next to Sango and Kohaku, Sango watching her anxiously as Kagome got closer to Inuyasha. Both of their hands stood on end when Inuyasha uttered, “Don't come closer,” making Kagome freeze instantly.

Kagome. Does the name mean anything to you? Kikyo's words played back at him.

Does the name mean anything to me? he thought.

Many things played in his mind for him to say to Kagome. One question exited his mouth— it was short, simple, and could answer many more questions.

“Who are you?”

Kagome was a bit taken aback at the question, slightly offended as well.

"I'm Kagome Higurashi! I told you, I unsealed you from the tree."

"I don't remember anyone unsealing me."

"I know! Naraku--"

"Why is Naraku so desperate for me to kill you?" he interjected.

Kagome thought about it.

"Because I have jewel shards and because I want to kill him! We all do because of him hurting us! And I can, too. He's evil, and just wants to spread misery for his own gain. He uses everyone who allies with him then throws them away like garbage and I can't stand to see this happen to you too!"

Inuyasha’s eyebrow twinged. He uses people, huh? I almost don't want to believe it, but back with Kikyo and Kohaku…

She continued, "Inuyasha, whatever you do, please, please, don't stay with him. We're your friends! Don't you wonder why the heck you woke up with us worrying over you?!"

Kagome started to walk to him again, going past Sango and Kohaku who watched her intently. Kohaku wanted to say something. He knew that they had been with each other before, but what good would his word prove? Wouldn't that throw him into even more danger if Naraku knew that he knew?

Inuyasha tensed up as the girl got closer. The more he stared at her the more it felt as if his heart was on fire. The world around him blurred, but Kagome stayed focused in his vision.

"Inuyasha, I know you're confused. I know you're frustrated because that's how you are! But I’ve been with you before, and I’m here to stay. I’m here to stay by your side! And you can stay with us!”

“Stay back,” he growled, readying himself to draw his sword with his hand over the handle.

Kagome still grew closer to him. Her resounding defiance and perseverance made his head start to pound causing him to wince from the pain.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

At this point, he didn’t want to hurt her. Something about it didn’t feel right. The aura she gave off was far too well meaning. Inuyasha’s hand guided him to draw his sword anyway, it coming out as it scrapped the sides of its scabbard in a bright yellow light. He pointed it in front of Kagome’s face, the girl not warded off by it at all.

“Killing me won’t help you.”

He sucked in a small but harsh breath through his teeth, lowering his sword a bit. Kagome walked around the blade, her fingers feeling the new powerful sensation in the Tessaiga’s blade. She was worried as to what this might be doing to his mind. Despite this, the shards felt pure. So he couldn’t be affected by it too badly… yet.

She said calmly, “You have to know that Naraku erased your memories, Inuyasha.”

Troublesome girl.

A tornado of wind spun behind Inuyasha, the half demon tensing up but knowing exactly who it was. Kagome gasped, shielding her eyes from the dirt and gravel that threatened to fly into them from the harsh gusts.

“Shut your mouth, girl!” Kagura shouted, whipping out her fan and swiping it in the air, creating a harsh wind to throw Kagome back. She yelped, being tossed onto her back harshly and flopping onto her front.

Kagome groaned from the fall then cried out, “Wait!”

Kagura yanked on Inuyasha’s arm, plucking out a feather in her hairpiece simultaneously for them to escape on.

He looked the other way as Kagura picked him up, staring the incarnation in her face as he put his Tessaiga away. Breaking eye contact with him, she gasped, ushering Inuyasha to look at what caught her attention. Kagome was hanging off of the feather, gripping onto its thick strands for dear life, her weight beginning to tilt over their ride. Inuyasha’s eyebrows creased almost in fear for this girl’s life as she was so desperate to get to him.

“Inuyasha!” she cried, as tears fell from her face. He couldn't tell if Kagome were actually crying or if it were from the wind hitting her eyes so aggressively.

Her face was flushed red and she paid no concern to the growing height between her and the harsh ground.

“Inuyasha, I’m begging you to stay with us! You have— You have the choice!” she screamed, staring up at him as the wind batted their hair on both of their faces.

He stared at her, Kagura looking between them, interested in what his choice may be. He started to reach out a hand to her, and Kagome tried to reach out hers. Her other hand slipped, sending her plummeting back towards the ground. Sango shrieked, her fist coming up to her mouth as she bit her knuckle.

“Kohaku, stay here!” Sango said, sprinting past her brother to catch her friend with her arms up and wide open.

“Oh my God! I’m so stupid!!!” Kagome shrieked with her fists covering her eyes as she came closer to connecting with the ground.

“KAGOME!” the voice that yelled was not who she hoped it was.

She fell into two firm arms, wind gusting around her. She already knew who caught her. Kagome moved her hands from her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, seeing the face of her savoir.

"Kouga, you're back!"

"Yeah, and just in time too. I smelt that mutt’s stench from a mile away and tried to get here before he did," he said, looking up at the two enemies who were escaping. Inuyasha stared down at him, a slight look of irritation crossing his face.

Kouga skid on his heels as they hit the ground, then jogged to a halt.

"Kagome, are you alright?" Sango asked, running up to the wolf demon and priestess with her brother following behind her.

"I'm fine, Sango," Kagome said trembling, obviously a bit shaken. She was staring off past them, not looking at anything in particular. Kouga rested her onto her feet, her arms still around his neck-- tightly.

"Dang, Kagome, didn't realize you were so eager to see me again!" Kouga joked smugly.

Her arms immediately snapped off of him, raising them up as she wobbled away from him. Kagome fidgeted with her hair and scratched her skin as she came down from that adrenaline high.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sango asked, reaching out for her.

Kagome sighed and fanned herself saying, “I’m— I’m okay.” Suddenly, she collapsed on the ground like a sack of rocks. Everyone around her shrieked, Kouga scooping up Kagome into his arms and sped off back to Kaede’s home with Sango and Kohaku chasing after him.

——

“The hell’d you pick me up for?”

“Naraku wants to see you, obviously.”

“I was in the middle of something.”

“He knows,” Kagura said sharply, alluding to the few Saimyosho that hovered near them.

Inuyasha’s eyebrows twitched and he looked away from Kagura. She didn’t exactly sound pleased to say it, almost as if she had hoped Inuyasha had continued on his endeavor with Kagome.

"Why isn't Kohaku coming back with us?"

"You probably don't reme-- know this, but Kohaku is usually on his own most of the time. Let the boy roam.”

“Let him roam? He’s like a 6-year old. You’re gonna get him killed.”

“I don’t really have a say in the matter.”

Inuyasha kept quiet for a bit, folding his arms. “What does Naraku need me for?”

“He wants to speak with you.”

“About?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

More silence before Kagura said, “You should… stay on your toes.”

“What?”

“Just take the advice.”

He huffed.

They remained silent, Kagura not daring to say anything more with the Saimyosho hovering nearby as they returned to the castle. Once they landed after a few hours, Inuyasha hopped off and headed inside with the incarnation following close behind him. Something felt off.

An unsettling pressure filled the castle as Inuyasha entered it. Kagura followed behind him, feeling it as well. Inuyasha’s throat felt tight, and a weight felt like it began to settle on his heart. He gulped, and head down the hall that led to the room Naraku always resided in. A harsh red light exited from the room as it spilled into the hallway, Naraku’s silhouette cutting through the light.

Inuyasha paused before he entered the room, standing in the door’s opening. Naraku stood in front of the room, where the red hue came from. He did not face Inuyasha.

“Come inside, Inuyasha,” he said, his voice ringing through the room.

Inuyasha glanced at Kagura before heading inside.

“What’d you call me back here so soon for? Thought you were giving me a break.”

“I was. Though it seems you are in need of a more observant eye watching over you.”

“An eye?”

“Yes. For someone who has just begun to work with me, you have garnered quite the audacity to roam on your own. To visit your enemies.”

“You’re getting mad at me, but not Kohaku? You left him there with our ‘enemies’!”

“I find Kohaku to be trustworthy. Furthermore, his presence there without you could be much more useful to me.”

“Useful to you?! I’m just doing you favors while you repay me for it."

"Favors?" Naraku glanced at Inuyasha, sending a shiver through the half demon’s spine.

In an instant, Inuyasha’s heart felt like it was suddenly going to burst. His entire body seized up, the painful feeling of his entire body clench beginning to overwhelm him. He clutched his chest, his nails digging into his skin as if he were trying to tear his way into his own heart. The half-demon’s knees buckled underneath him, bringing him down to the floor. He used his free arm to support his upper body to prevent it from collapsing onto the ground with his legs.

Naraku looked down on the half demon, his eyes cold and unforgiving. He held up a clenched fist with the sacred jewel trapped in his palm, forcing his overwhelming demonic energy to taint the jewel and influence Inuyasha’s shards.

Inuyasha’s body lurched up, throwing his head back and grabbing his face as he howled in pain as he was forced to lose himself again. His screaming halted him from forming words but the violent shaking of his head begged for Naraku to stop. The blood filled his eyes again, his amber irises being lost to a deep emerald. His fangs and nails sharpened, Inuyasha clenching his jaw and baring his teeth and gums.

Naraku cracked a slight smile at the half demon’s suffering.

Inuyasha’s arms lowered to his sides with his screaming having died down into pained snarls. He brought his head down and glared at Naraku, the ferocity of what he felt not even being suppressed for a moment. Without any warning, Inuyasha lunged for Naraku with his sharply clawed hand outstretched.

Naraku snickered, raising his arm at Inuyasha for it to quickly distort in an amalgamation of discolored flesh that did not suit his body. The dark green and veiny arm shot out, catching Inuyasha by the throat and slamming him into the hallway wall outside the room. Kagura, who stood outside the door, gasped seeing Inuyasha shoot past her and get pinned on the wall with such a hard thud. Inuyasha clawed at the hand wrapped around his neck that slowly got tighter in an attempt to cut off his breathing.

It's not like he was really breathing anyway, his shallow and quick breaths through his teeth already contributing to the lack of air entering his body. Naraku’s arm throbbed and pulsed horrendously, Inuyasha mindlessly trying to tear off chunks of the flesh only for it to reform seconds later.

"I have the power to push you over the edge and make sure you can never return. Be grateful for your encounter with Kikyo." Naraku's grip on the sacred jewel loosened, stopping himself from tainting the jewel more. Inuyasha gasped in relief, his senses coming back to him as his face and nails reverted to (almost) normal.

"Her spiritual powers are forbidding me from permanently ruining your shard."

Inuyasha still clawed at Naraku’s arm for him to let go, his grip so tight Inuyasha couldn't breathe. Naraku came closer, lessening the distance between the two as he came out into the hallway.

"Know this, Inuyasha. You are not doing me any favors. I am doing you one," Naraku said.

His arm reverted from its distorted form to his normal one, releasing Inuyasha from his grip and let him fall to his face on the floor, his weight crashing down mercilessly onto the wooden flooring. Kagura watched this in dread. Naraku slowly shot a glance at her before looking down at Inuyasha and kneeling over him. He picked up a chunk of the half demon’s white hair and wrapped it around his hand, allowing him for a tight grip on it. Inuyasha’s breathing was ragged, coughing a bit as he regained his breath. His inhale was choked off by a harsh yank of his hair that lifted his upper body off the ground.

Inuyasha sucked in a sharp gasp, wincing at the pain at his scalp. His amber eyes burned into Naraku’s red ones, the older man’s eyes savoring every ounce of pain he inflicted on the teen. His eyes were wide and eyebrows creased and quivering along with his lips.

Fear. It’s what Naraku loved to plant into his victims the most.

“You are on my side, Inuyasha. You work for me,” Naraku said, opening his hand and letting Inuyasha’s hair slip out of it to drop him back on the floor. Standing to his feet, he began to enter the room the two were parked in front of, but paused to barely look back at Inuyasha. “From now on, you will be accompanying me, and no one else. Kagura, watch over him and make sure he doesn’t try to escape until I need him." And with that, Naraku closed the door behind him.

Kagura was rendered silent, watching the entire turmoil in shock. A bead of sweat rolled down her face, the incarnation sighing as Naraku no longer being in her presence took a weight off of her heart. She watched the door as she crept over to Inuyasha and knelt down next to him. He was face down, with his arms curled around his head— hands balled into fists.

“Inuyasha?” she whispered.

He didn’t give a response, but Kagura could hear some quiet noises emitting from him underneath his thick blanket of hair.

“Get up.”

He still refused to respond.

“Are you alright?” she asked very quietly.

Inuyasha grumbled then barely lifted up his head, his hair obscuring most of his face, except for his lips. He quietly said, “I must be the biggest dumbass in the world.”

Kagura’s eyes softened with sympathy.

“Come on, get up,” she urged quietly, getting his arm around her shoulder.

He didn’t really want to move, but he fell for Kagura’s sympathy and concern and let her walk him outside. His hair still covered his eyes with his head hanging low, he sighed, “I guess that’s what you meant by ‘stay on your toes’.”

Kagura nodded, sitting Inuyasha next to her on the stairs of the castle. Inuyasha chuckled weakly, then sat up.

“God, I am such an idiot. That girl, Kagome, she was right. Naraku is one hell of a bastard, I have no idea how I didn't immediately see through his bullshit."

"Do you plan on doing something?"

Inuyasha side-eyed her skeptically. "Why do you wanna know?"

"Because if you have any interest in killing Naraku then so do I."

Inuyasha’s ears stood up, his eyebrows raising a bit.

"You've got his stench all over you. Aren't you part of him?"

Kagura looked away from him, into the distant forest that surrounded the castle.

"I am. But I don't want to work beneath him any longer. He has my heart and views my life as expendable. He can kill me at any moment, and all I want is to be free."

"So you want me to kill him for you?"

"Yes, I do. You have the power to do so."

"But he's got power over me."

"You'll be able to overcome it," Kagura said affirmatively.

Inuyasha looked at her, very intrigued as to why she chose to open up to him now. Judging by her cautiousness earlier, she probably expected a situation like this to happen. He looked away, staying silent for a while before piping up to say, “You’re not gonna leave me alone tonight, are you?”

“I can’t, unless you want us both to lose our heads.”

“Nah, I can’t have that,” Inuyasha said, making a fart noise with his mouth.

It’s definitely different to have him around me when we’re on the same side. He’s the only one who understands how I feel right now.

They remained silent, sitting next to one another before Kagura noticed he had fallen asleep sitting up. Inuyasha was hunched over, with his head low.

How does he fall asleep so easily? Kagura thought, staying next to him until the sun began to rise. Inuyasha had a habit of grumbling and twitching in his sleep, which would lightly disrupt his rest before he immediately blacked out again. It was amusing to see him like this, instead of him growling and yelling at her about how he was going to kill her.

Goosebumps ran up Kagura’s neck and behind her ears, setting her on edge as she felt Naraku’s presence getting closer. She jumped to her feet and faced the door, Inuyasha still fast asleep.

“Hey, Inuyasha! Wake up!” she scream-whispered, jostling his shoulder briefly before stepping back.

The castle’s entrance slid open, Naraku looking Kagura in her flat red eyes. His eyes traveled to Inuyasha, who groaned from Kagura jostling him. He mussed with his hair as if that would immediately clear the fogginess in his head, blinking his eyes a few times.

“On your feet, half breed,” Naraku said, yanking on Inuyasha’s hair once again and pulling up to his feet.

Inuyasha hissed, wrenching his eyes shut at the sharp pain. Not what he needed to be greeted with when he woke up. Naraku’s apathetic eyes glared at Inuyasha, letting go of his hair to let Inuyasha stand on his own feet. Inuyasha glared at Naraku, scratching at his scalp to ease the pain in it, his gaze not fazing the man at all.

“HALF BREED?!” Inuyasha spat. “You’re one to talk! I can smell the half demon all over you.”

Kagura covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Naraku scowled at him, but hid his reaction. “I’d suggest you watch your tongue, Inuyasha.”

Inuyasha clenched his jaw and looked away, stepping backwards down the stairs to stand next to Kagura.

“Ahem. Be grateful I’ve spared your sanity. I have work for you, so you will be accompanying me.”

---------

"I'm okay you guys, I just-- phew, I just REALLY didn't expect to plummet like… 30 feet! It was such an awful rush,” Kagome said, sighing as she slapped her own hand into her face.

"Drink your water, Kagome," Sango said, putting a plastic bottle filled with water up to her friend's lips.

"Kagome, did that mutt do anything to you?" Kouga asked, leaning over Kagome who was resting on Sango’s lap.

Kagome sipped from the bottle then sighed before answering. "No he didn't do anything to me. He was just… here to talk. I think he's been realizing things about Naraku."

"Think he's comin' back to his senses?"

"I hope so."

Sango sighed and looked at Kohaku, who was on the opposite side of the room sitting near Miroku and Shippo with Kirara on the boy’s lap.

“Kohaku, are you hungry at all? We have some left over rice from our last meal,” Miroku asked.

Kohaku nodded sheepishly. “I hope I’m not imposing on you…”

“Not at all, we’re relieved you’re here and that you’re okay,” Miroku said, handing Kohaku a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks.

The young boy took them reluctantly and sunk into a corner to eat.

“Your sister has been worried sick about you, it’s good to see that you’re okay." Out of the corner of Miroku’s eye, he saw Sango coming over to them.

Kohaku eyed her cautiously.

Sango sat in front of them, looking back at Kagome, who was chatting with Kouga and his wolf friends that crowded around her with concern. She faced her brother and Miroku again, asking, “Kohaku, what has it been like with Inuyasha? Is he okay?”

The boy looked up from his meal and nodded to answer Sango’s second question. “He’s nice. He doesn’t seem to remember you guys or Naraku, though.”

Miroku sighed, “We know. Naraku erased his memories.”

“Mm,” Kohaku said, continuing to eat. “He protects me. It’s nice to be around him…”

“Inuyasha?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, Inuyasha being nice to be around? That’s a new one,” Shippo sneered.

Sango shushed him harshly. “I’m just glad you’re safe. It’s good to know that Inuyasha was protecting you,” she said, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “But I’m sure you’re tired. You should get your rest.”

Miroku and Shippo nodded in agreement, heading away from the brother and sister to go back to Kagome and the wolves. Sango slipped closer to Kohaku, brushing back the hair on his forehead to plant a kiss on it. It caught Kohaku by surprise, his face flushing in embarrassment from it. She smiled at him and let him eat, going back to her friends.

Within time, the group had set up to continue getting their rest. Kohaku slept next to Sango and Kirara, Sango just recently freeing Kohaku from a hug as she rolled onto her other side. Kohaku’s eyes flashed open, turning his head to see the back of Sango’s head. He got up cautiously, making sure to not make a sound as he got his Kusarigama and stepped over the sleeping innocents.

Kohaku slinked out of the tiny home, looking at Kouga and his wolf friends that slept outside before turning to leave the village.

“Got somewhere you need to be going?” Kouga asked from behind him.

Kohaku turned around and nearly jumped, seeing the wolf demon that crept up on him.

“I can’t stay here.”

“And why not? Don’t tell me you’re goin’ back to Naraku to spill anything to him,” Kouga growled, taking one step to tower over Kohaku.

“No! Of course not!” He looked away. “You’re all too nice to endanger you all like that, so I can’t stay,” Kohaku said, turning back around and running away.

“Hey! Wait!” Kouga called, but didn’t chase after him. He hissed his teeth and sat back against the wall next to his companions, sulking and grinding his teeth until the sun rose.

Kouga could hear a panic forming inside as the morning began, with Sango calling for her brother.

“Kohaku?!” Sango rushed outside, looking around anxiously.

She turned to Kouga, her face firey with emotions. He looked up at her, already knowing how this interaction would pan out.

“Did you see him leave?!”

“Yeah, I did.”

Miroku and Kagome rushed out after her, standing in the doorway to watch the altercation.

Sango grabbed him underneath his shoulder pads, hoisting him off the ground which caught him off guard. His allies who were asleep on his shoulders fell to the ground together, startled by the harsh awakening.

“Didn’t you stop him?!” she yelled.

“Get yer hands off of me!”

“Sango!” her friends cried, both pulling her off of Kouga, Miroku keeping her hands on her shoulders.

“He’s my brother! I’ve been looking for him for ages and then you just let him go?! I was so relieved to see him again, I—!”

“The kid said he couldn’t stay here.”

“Huh?”

“He said he couldn’t stay here. I dunno what the deal is between you two, but from the look I got on his face, he looked like he didn’t trust himself to be around here.”

“Sango, you know he’s still under Naraku’s influence at times. It could be any moment when we’re caught off guard that he could attack us,” Miroku said.

“But…!”

“I’m sorry, Sango, but he’s right. He probably left for our safety.”

“But Inuyasha isn’t with him anymore. He’s all alone again,” the tone in Sango’s voice shifted from aggravated to dejected, her looking down at the ground.

“I promise you, Kohaku can take care of himself,” the monk added.

Sango slumped, dropping her head to hide her face and the tears that fell from it. She almost fell to her knees, but Kagome and Miroku both caught her to bring her back inside. Kouga watched them head back inside and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Tch, damn girl really actin’ as if she was gonna beat me up! Ugh.”

After a bit of preparation inside, Kagome and her companions exited Kaede’s home with Kagome proudly leading them with her huge yellow bag, quiver and bow on her back. Sango hung near Miroku, her energy way down and her demeanor gloomy. Miroku nudged her a few times in an attempt to cheer her up but she just groaned, looking ahead of her with dead eyes.

Kouga sauntered up to Kagome sluggishly with his arms folded. “Whatcha got on the agenda fer us, Kagome?”

“Simple. We find Inuyasha, then we destroy Naraku.”

Kouga cracked his knuckles and grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

——————— previous chapter | next chapter

#inuyasha #inuyasha fic #inukag #fragmented memories

[writersblockbrainfarts]

A Christmas Tale (Part 7)

One Day Before Christmas

It was almost 7pm when she knocked at his door. “Hi.” He said as soon as he saw her. “I hope you didn’t forget.” “Of course not.” “Let’s get going then. We cant be late.”

***

“Masie, where on earth are we?” “In a dark alley.” She replied, matter-of-factly. “No shit. Why are we here?” She wasn’t listening to him anymore. They were both dressed in the darkest outfits they had, she had asked him to do so. She was looking around, urgency clear on her face. “Come on.” She said and stepped onto the garbage bin beside them. “What on earth-” “Hush. Hurry.” She pulled herself up with the help of an open window and climbed through. He followed silently. She saw him climbing through the window but she before she could warn him of the height, he had already landed on the floor with a loud thud. “Thanks for the heads up.” “Sarcasm.” She couldn’t help but smile. “What is this place anyway.” “The Library.” “Why did we just break into a library?” “This is my haven.” He fell quite for a moment. “You do this every time you want to feel safe?” “Pretty much, yeah.” “You’re insane!” “I know. Come on now. I’ll show you my favourite shelves.” She led her through the maze of books like it was her second home. Maybe it was her second home, after all. “Novels. Stories. All around us, right now, are stories. And I have read about two-thirds of these. Some over-night, until the Library re-opened in the morning, some I issued. More by sneaking in though.” “You’re fascinating.” “Thank you.” She curtsied. “So? Do you want to read something?” “Not today. I have one more question. If you don’t mind?” She sank down on the floor, against the shelves and he sat beside her.“ “Which of your scars has the best story?” He paused and tried to read her expression. Should he not have asked that? She sighed and smiled a little. “That is a very good question. This isn’t self-harm though.” She vaguely gestured to her left arm. “This is actually a very fond memory.” He raised his eyebrows in amusement. Fond memories of scars? “I like to call them battle scars. My brother and used to learn archery when we were twelve.” “Brother?” “My twin.” “You have a twin?” “Yes. He’s in New York. Anyway, we are the closest two siblings could ever be and we both always like combat. Since, our parents could easily afford it, we were able to join archery classes when we turned ten. On our twelfth birthday, we were quite skilled with a bow and arrow and decided to shoot something that the other person would hold in their hand. Even we knew that putting stuff on your head is a bad, bad idea.” He laughed a little at this. “So I was holding a figurine of some sort, I don’t really remember what it was, in my left hand. We were both quite skilled by this point-” “You already said that.” “Said what?” “That you both were quite skilled by this point.” “Well, we were and I’d like to emphasise on that.” And that’s when he realised that she was defending her brother. He could see the fondness in her eyes. ‘It is a very fond memory’. She clearly misses him a lot. “Anyway, he took his aim and just by a slight difference, it hit my arm. As soon as he realised what had happened, he came running to me and took me to our parents, who then took me to the doctor. I had lost a lot of blood but thankfully, I didn’t faint or anything. When I was all patched up, he was the first person who came to me. He was in tears. I could see he had been crying.” She paused again, as if trying to get a hold of that moment just one more time. But every moment is fleeting, it slips through your fingers, like water. All you are left with is the sensation of it. “I laughed at him and said, ‘you’re such a scaredy cat’ and started laughing again. He got really mad and stopped crying immediately. When he had wiped his tears, he hugged me so tightly, I could barely breathe. And as he held me, I said to him, ‘you didn’t think I would be defeated by a little gash, did you?’ and he replied, 'well now I definitely don’t’. I remember every detail of that day.” Her eyes were closed now. “You miss him.” He said, in almost a whisper. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Her expression changing drastically. “No.” It was the coldest he had ever seen her. In this moment, she was distant. He waited for the air around them to settle a bit. “Do you wanna know mine?” He asked her. She could hear the cautiousness in his voice, see it in his actions. She took a deep breath. “Yes, of course.” And her smile was back on her face. “Well, mine isn’t a fond memory at all. Back in high school, I was bullied. Every single day, this one guy used to beat me to a pulp. No one helped me. He was the son of someone very powerful and when the principal tried to deal with him, that boy’s father sent some people to threaten his and his family’s life. Everyone was afraid of him and for some reason, he had made me his target.” He chuckled a bit. “Maybe because I was weak. Anyway, he used to beat me till I couldn’t breathe, till I bled onto the floor through the thickest of my jumpers. He had no mercy. Every last scar on my body is his doing. And the worst one was the day he picked up a sharp piece of would and stabbed it in my thigh. Thankfully, I was taken to the hospital in time to have been treated.” “People are sick.” “They really are.” He still wanted to ask her about her brother. “Masie.” “Hmm?” “What was his name?” There was a silence, then she spoke, “Jason.” “What did he do?” “He left me. He didn’t even think about telling me before he just upped and left. One morning I woke up to a letter from him saying he was sorry and that he couldn’t get himself to say goodbye because he wouldn’t have been able to leave. I haven’t talked to him since. I do miss him.” She sunk in his embrace and they stayed there, holding each other, until the break of dawn. They climbed out the window they had come in and made their way towards the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She shouts and he turns around, walking backwards. “Of course.” He keeps looking at her, the most cheerful of smiles plastered on his face as he skips a little. He would never lose her. Her smile almost instantly fades away and he looks at her confused. “LOOK OUT” she screams at him, he turns around but before he could even realise, he feels the stabbing pain, crushing him, pushing him forward. She couldn’t utter another word. She ran with all her might. She couldn’t lose him. Not again. She couldn’t lose someone again. She held his head in her hands, his face broke into a smile, a painful one, but a smile altogether, when he saw her. She would be his last sight. “Thanks…for the…heads up.” He somehow managed to say. They held each others’ hands. “You’ll make it. Stay with me, alright?” Within no time, she heard the ambulance. Someone had called, she had heard. But then she felt him go limp in her arms. She couldn’t utter a single syllable. All she could do now was watch as the paramedics took his limp form away from her. All she was left with now were her silent tears, the memories of every moment they spent together, the water that ran through her fingers, the conversations she was never able to have.

And that was the tale of Chris and Masie.