#like my mum is such a loud powerful force of a woman that these little moments of vulnerability where she's just HONEST with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

usernoneexistent · 2 years

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A/N: Exams are almost finished so it means I have lots of free time to draw and write until I start 3rd year in September.

Warnings: Description of injury, mean girls vibes, bullying, physical violence

Hi Ma,

How are you? Are you keeping well? Has Tilly checked in on you? Everything has been good so far on my end. You won't believe it but I got sorted into Ravenclaw like Jacob! Remember Rowan Khanna, my new friend, she's also made it to Ravenclaw with me and I've made another new friend Ben Copper. He's a muggleborn so I've been learning a lot about muggles from him. I also put in this month's budget so you don't need to worry about spending and please stick to it Ma.

Lots of love,

Juniper

A week has passed since the whole confronting Merula outside of potions, the exploding cauldron and getting snared by the devil's snare. Juniper has been avoiding Merula, so much for the smack talk about squaring up with the so-called most powerful witch. Chester made Juniper report the incident with their head of house, Professor Flitwick who then had a chat with Professor Snape. They agreed that Merula had a month of detention which was a joke but better than nothing. She was thankful that they only sat next to each other in potions and at least far away enough in D.A.D.A. The bruises have mostly faded, mainly obscured by her dark complexion but still visible enough at the neck. Rowan tried to persuade Juniper to visit the hospital wing again, just even to quickly get a healing potion but the stubborn girl remained absolute in her resolve of not stepping foot inside the wing.

The girls were finalising their essay on mandrakes for Professor Sprout at lunch. Rowan insisted that they should write it up as soon as possible even though the deadline was next week. Juniper was eager for their first flying lesson this week but Rowan didn't share so much in her excitement. Rowan was explaining about the different woods that her family's wood farm supplies to the broom maker companies.

"My dad tried to teach me how to fly a little but I fell off and broke my glasses so I decided to wait until I was at Hogwarts to learn it properly," Rowan shared her experience. Juniper felt a slight pang of envy but decided to let it go.

"Ma forbade flying," Juniper started, "From what I know is she's still quite shaken from an quidditch accident that she had back when she was at Hogwarts."

"I didn't realise that your mum played quidditch."

"She didnae, she was in the stands when a bludger or something like that hit her."

"Oh," Rowan blinked.

Ben joined them, anxiously looking around him. Unsure if he was allowed to join the Ravenclaw table.

"Hi, Ben. Ready for flying classes?" Juniper asked. The Gryffindor shook his head as the colour drained from his face.

"No, honestly I've been dreading this class all summer," A sentiment shared by Rowan. Juniper didn't want to say out loud that she was actually excited about flying. The feeling of the wind hitting her face and the sense of freedom experienced by being up so high in the sky.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Juniper queried, not wanting to offend Ben.

"More like I'm afraid of falling from height," His shaky hands managed to cling onto the squashed sandwich, "I even overheard that brooms have a mind of their own and can chuck you off if they don't like you."

"That can happen but it is not very often occurrence," Rowan tried to reassure Ben in her Rowan-like-way, but his dark eyes showed another level of fear. Rowan and Juniper were forced to drag Ben to the training grounds. Eventually, Rowan convinced him that receiving detention for being late to their class was scarier than actually flying, which spook the boy even more.

A tall woman, made taller by her pointy shoes and spikey, white hair, stood authoritative. Two rows of brooms are laid out on opposite sides from each other. Juniper was thankful that this class was only shared by Gryffindors. No seeing Merula's smirking face here at least. Juniper, Rowan and Ben stood together at the back to avoid detection.

"Welcome to your first flying class," Her deep voice boomed across the field, "I will be your instructor, Madam Hooch. Today you will learn to summon your broom. A well-maintained broom is a fast broom. Take a broom and then to your broom care stations!"

Madam Hooch pointed to wooden tables pre-prepared with the equipment needed. Juniper didn't realise that brooms needed so much care. There were four students per station. The trio quickly claimed a table together as neither wanted to deal with any strange student. Most avoided them, Juniper speculated that she may be the reason for the spread of distance between everyone else.

After polishing the brooms until their hands wore out. Madam Hooch spread the students out in two rows to finally summon their brooms. Ben looked a little more relieved that they weren't actually properly flying today, just a warm-up.

"Now, let's see you summon your brooms," Madam Hooch bellowed across the grassy pitch, "I want you to focus on your broom, get to know your broom, familiarise yourself. Then say up to summon your broom when you're ready."

Many students ignore Madam Hooch's advice and a chorus of 'up' echoed throughout the green field. Juniper lifted out her right hand, visualising the curvature of the wooden handle in the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes to brace herself for failure.

"Up." She said loud enough.

She felt the wooden knots, how it has been sanded and gloss coating. Carefully, she opened her eyes and really saw the broom in her hand. A grin grew from ear to ear. She wanted to share her achievement with Rowan only to see her stuck in a tunnel vision.

"Come on, come on, come on broom. Up!" Rowan muttered as the broom shakily raised a couple of centimetres of the ground before bouncing down to the ground, "Maybe if I focused more on the actual motion than the object?" She muttered under her breath.

"Have you tried visualising the broom flying to your hand?" Juniper suggested, startling Rowan out of her deep thoughts.

"I was actually thinking of doing that," She glanced at the broom in Juniper's hand and half grinned, "I see it worked for you."

Across from them, Ben was struggling too however with the help of Andre Egwu, a fellow Ravenclaw who also had a more natural aptitude for summoning a broom. Juniper practised a few times to make sure that the summon wasn't a fluke. Rowan did eventually successfully summon a broom but Juniper couldn't help but feel like something was off.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle to gather the students' attention, "Well done. You now know how to summon your broom. Class is dismissed."

Brooms were collected to be put away. Juniper searched for Ben and Rowan to see if they could hang out a little more together. Ben found her first to Juniper's surprise but without Rowan.

"Hey Ben, it wasn't so bad today," She jokingly punched Ben's arm.

Still pale, Ben shook his head, "Madam Hooch said quite a lot about falling to our deaths. Though I suppose I don't have to worry about falling if I never actually fly..."

"I'm sure with enough practise you'll get used tae it," She tried to calm Ben's nerves, "Rowan will probably have some books about flying that we can borrow."

"I think Rowan has left already."

"I should really check on her," The girl confessed, lowering her voice, "I never asked her how she's doing after, you ken, the whole devil's snare thingy."

"That's probably the best thing to do. I have been busy avoiding Merula, especially after the devil's snare," They slowly started to walk back inside. Rowan and Juniper gave a brief version of what happened however pretty much most of the school had heard about it. People gawked at Juniper's bruises anywhere they walked.

"You and me both," The blue-haired sighed, "I still have unfinished business with her."

They allowed some moments of silence to pass between them. They walked through the corridors, mostly empty of students who were either at Hogsmeades or away somewhere.

"Where do you think Rowan went to?" The Ravenclaw girl asked the Gryffindor boy.

"Hmm, perhaps the courtyard? Where we played gobstones the last time," Ben grimaced at the memory of getting sprayed by the foul stench, "I think it's best if you talk to her alone."

Juniper nodded, "I agree, I'll see you tomorrow then Ben."

***

"Oh, Juniper!" Rowan stood up from where she sat at the centrepiece fountain, closing her book, "I didn't see you there."

"Hey Rowan, I just wanted tae check up on you," They both sat down on the cold stone edge of the fountain, "I know that we haven't talked much about the devil's snare but I wanted tae ask how yer doing?"

Rowan forced a small smile, "As right as one can be after our dreadful run-in with the devil's snare. I just couldn't bear to talk about it or even look at Merula since then."

Juniper squeezed her shoulder, "You ken that you can bitch about Merula to me."

She managed to get a giggle out of her friend, "Uh, the nerve of her, lying to us there with a fake note!"

"I ken, what a lying cow."

"No, she's worse than a cow. At least cows don't lie and trick others into almost getting killed," Rowan explained, "She's probably an imp, they lie and trick people."

It was Juniper's turn to giggle, "Yer so right, Merula is an imp. Imagine her being all tiny like an imp with those pointy ears and molto grey skin."

The girls burst out laughing at the funny visualisation of a tiny angry imp version of Merula. It ended with them playing another round of gobstones. Rowan ranted a little more about Merula, letting off some steam not that Juniper blamed which then turned into how Rowan missed her family despite it only being the start of the term. The sun was slowly setting indicating that the girls should have some dinner before heading back up to the common room along with others if they didn't want to be locked outside.

Inside the common room of cobalt blues and wooden browns, Juniper and Rowan saw their fellow first years huddled together. The redhead spotted them and beckoned them to come over,

"Hey Juniper! Rowan! Come join us!"

"Hey Tulip, what's happening here?" Juniper asked.

"Oh, a bunch of us figured it would be a good idea to get to know each other." She answered.

Rowan fixed her glasses, "I only see you, Badeea and..."

"Andre Egwu," The tall, dark-skinned boy finished off Rowan's sentence and in Juniper's opinion, he was quite handsome too. This was their first time properly meeting despite seeing each other quite regularly in classes and in the common room.

"Aren't there other lads in our year?" Juniper looked around to see why there was a lack of boys.

"Talbott wanted to be alone but don't mind him, he seems to prefer his own company," Andre shrugged, "And same for Victor too."

"Alvina's probably hanging about with Hana I believe her name is, she's a Hufflepuff." Tulip explained the lack of Alvina's presence.

Despite the small group of five, they got along relatively well. Learned a bit about each other, how Tulip had strict parents that worked in the ministry of magic, Badeea was a gifted painter and Andre was a Portree fan. Rowan talked about the wood farm where she grew up meanwhile when it came to Juniper she just told about how she grew up in a small wizarding community bordering a muggle community in the forest located on the cliff edges of Fife. Frankly, there was so much about her life that she didn't want to be let out more than what's already been published in newspapers. They eventually retired when Chester threatened that he would take off house points if they don't go to their dorms.

The next day turned into the following day which then turned into a week and before Juniper knew it, it was already October. The temperature grew chilly and the leaves turned from green to hues of sunset. Juniper still made a lack of progress in her quest against Merula. The Slytherin girl had been surprisingly still except for the snarky comments here and there. Though she wondered if Merula was playing the long game, one in which she was determined to be ahead.

After another boring lecture of D.A.D.A, Rowan, Ben and Juniper went down to the clock tower courtyard, while students were littered about majority were elsewhere. The trio found more comfort in the sounds of water trickling and hearing the birds crowing than the noisiness echoing in the great hall. All snuggly dressed in the scarfs of their corresponding house colours. At Rowan's insistence, they did their homework together first before Ben introduced Juniper and Rowan to a muggle card game.

Ben pulled the packet of cards out of his trouser pockets, "Dad got me them, he said I should have some games ready to play with my friends."

Rowan and Juniper looked at the cards eagerly. Neither of them had ever seen any muggle cards let alone any muggle games. Juniper recalled playing exploding snap with her brother a couple of times, before his disappearance. She didn't allow her old memories to taint the new ones that she created with Rowan and Ben.

"Wow, muggle cards really don't move at all," Rowan said as she studied the card profusely, examining the intricate design and swirls of the ace of hearts. Juniper leaned in, "Aye, they really don't."

Ben had gotten used to hearing Rowan and Juniper gushing over any muggle item he owned. It gave him a small sense of confidence that at least he had something to show.

"We could play scabby queen?" Ben suggested. Rowan and Juniper's eyes sparkled with intrigue.

"How do you play that?" They asked simultaneously. Ben had a weary look to him, finally fully realising that Rowan and Juniper were so far removed from the muggle world and that everything will have to be explained.

Ben explained the rules, which were fairly simple; finding two matching cards and the first person to get rid of their cards was the winner and the loser was whoever had the queen card left. They played multiple rounds, each winning and losing some games. Rowan won most games which came as no surprise but the three had a lot of fun. Juniper couldn't really recall when was the last time she laughed so much that her jaw hurt.

The courtyard was slowly emptying itself of students heading to the great hall for dinner. Ben left the Ravenclaw girls first because he agreed to hang out with another friend from Gryffindor. Also, Rowan did mention that she wanted to tell Juniper about something important earlier that day.

"It's about Merula," Rowan started, the sun faded by the grey clouds and the days getting darker faster, "I wanted to understand why Merula is such a bully..."

"And? What did you find?" Juniper's curiosity peaked.

"I'm getting to it, I have been researching her family to try and understand why she acts the way she does," Rowan hesitated, nibbling her lips, "And, well...I learned a terrible secret about her parents."

"What's the secret?"

"I'm not sure if I should say," Her long, slender fingers picked her lip's dry skin.

"It cannae be worse than my family's secret, well..." Juniper joked, "I mean everybody ken ma family's business."

"Oh, okay but I will only tell you," Rowan looked around, the courtyard was empty but regardless Rowan lowered her voice, "My research uncovered that Merula's parents are locked up in Azkaban."

Juniper's dark eyes widened, "Locked up for what!?"

"They were death eaters, loyal to you-know-who during the wizarding war," Rowan whispered.

Who would have guessed that Merula's parents were death eaters? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree Juniper guessed. That's regardless of being a Slytherin or not, nobody wants any association with the evilest dark lord of all time. Despite not knowing anyone close to being killed or seeing the war, she remembered her mother covering her ears anytime the radio started listing out the names and numbers of the deceased.

"Thanks for telling me this, honestly explains Merula a lot."

"I know, right?" Rowan said in a hushed voice. Juniper nodded and hugged her arm, "At least we have something to use against the imp now."

"Awe," A familiar annoying voice came from behind. Her voice was like scratching a chalkboard, "Isn't this precious?"

"Jealous much, Snyde" Juniper retorted back.

"Hello to you too, Moss," The Slytherin pulled a face of disgust, "You look surprisingly well for someone who wrestled a plant."

"Great and could you bog off Snyde and leave us alone," Her tone came harsher than intended. Instinctively, she positioned herself almost as a shield to Rowan, "Honestly get a life and be busy with somethin' else."

"Oh, I've been quite busy, Moss" She smirked, and Juniper raised her defences. Merula was never up to any good, "While you were off busy avoiding me, I've been doing a little research about your brother."

Her words taunted Juniper with her sing-song tone about her brother. The girl knew what would garner a reaction out of the Ravenclaw. Her blue eyebrows furrowed deeper on her forehead.

"Why cannae you just leave me alone!?" Her fist clenched, Rowan quickly touched Juniper's shoulder to calm her down a little.

Merula's smirk turned into a scowl, "Because you're a danger to Hogwarts just like him, and none of us will be safe until you're gone."

Her heart throbbed with pain at hearing that it was her existence was a danger to others. Juniper knew deep down that Merula was wrong but she couldn't help but take in her words. Rowan stepped in to make up for her friend's hesitation, "what are you talking about, Merula?"

"Well Khanna, Moss' brother didn't just get expelled for endangering Hogwarts in search of imagery vaults..." She bared a pearly, mischievous grin, "He immediately went missing, and the next time he was seen, he was working for Voldermort."

Juniper was stunned, Jacob would never ever work with the dark lord. She was lying. Merula was lying. Merula is a liar. Rowan was also shocked by Merula's casual drop of the evil wizard's name which was said to be taboo.

"You can't say that! You have to call him He Who Must Not Be Named," The Ravenclaw corrected the Slytherin.

"I say what I want," The witch said boldly.

Juniper had it with her audacity, "Yer lying about ma brother having anything tae do with He Who Must Not Be Named! Jacob would never join him."

Rowan had to physically hold Juniper back from making a regrettable mistake. Merula knew that she had the Ravenclaw girl playing into the palm of her hands, "No wonder the professors are constantly talking about you. They're wondering if you work for the dark lord too."

Juniper took a deep breath to allow her mind to calm down. Remember she told herself, she has a weapon of knowledge herself up in her sleeve too.

"I dinnae ken why you'd ever bring up He Who Must Not Be Named given yer family's history..." It was her turn to get a small glee of satisfaction at Merula's now angry face. Her ears turned a bright red, she could have sworn some steam came out of her ears.

"You don't know anything about me!" Merula stomped, abusing the cobblestone beneath her.

"I ken that yer parents are in Azkaban for being loyal tae He Who Must Not Be Named in the wizarding war. I kinda get why yer so angry all the time."

"I'm angry that you've been snooping about my parents!" Merula stepped closer. Juniper didn't flinch or even backed off but maintained eye contact with Merula. Rowan followed suit of Juniper, the girls all closer with the heat rising despite the chilly breeze between them.

"I did the snooping," Rowan said proudly.

"It's no different than you snooping on ma brother, Snyde," Juniper argued.

"Why don't you just drop out of Hogwarts?" Merula snarled, baring her pearly teeth, "Save Ravenclaw the embarrassment of being associated with you."

"Yer just afraid that I'll be better than you," Juniper stepped closer, her piercing dark eyes unwavering.

"Afraid? I'll duel you right now," Merula taunted. Now or never, she guessed. Juniper swung her right arm around, fist clenched ready to make an impact on Merula's cheek. The Slytherin pulled out a dark wand, "Flipendo!"

A bright white light flashed out and hit Juniper square in the chest. Her ribs, lungs and heart felt like they were on fire from the close impact. Her body flew backwards and was flung to the ground like a rag doll. She groaned from her body throbbing as she got up.

"Learn at least some spells, Moss," Merula spat out her name, "Maybe next time you'll put up a fight."

Rowan hurried over to Juniper and helped her to get up, "Merula is never going to leave us alone..."

"Not unless I learn more spells, and find someone who can teach me how to duel," The blue-haired girl mentioned.

Rowan allowed Juniper to use her for support, "I may know someone who could..."

Previous chapter: Chapter 4

Next chapter: Chapter 6

#juniper’s story #juniper moss #rowan khanna #ben copper #merula snyde #screw walking away #let’s solve by punching #hogwarts mystery #hphm oc

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

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Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

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You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!” you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

#acofas #acotar #azriel #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #acofs #acosf

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istanleyff7 · 3 years

Text

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scenes 5-9

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2: Aerith Scenes 5 - 9

A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 5

"My mother immediately took out a syringe after sitting on the bench and injected herself. I was startled."

"That must have been rough..."

There was compassion in Tifa's eyes and voice.

According to her definition of a mother, Ifalna would be a "really good-natured person". However, she was different back then.

"Even though I knew she wasn't well, I only worried about myself."

"You were a child..."

"I know..."

Aerith fell silent. It cannot be helped since she was just a child. Thus, there were a number of regrets that she did not want to simply put away.

"Ah! My bad, my bad! Shall I continue?"

"Sure. Please."

"The medicine worked, and we walked on for hours in the Sector 4 Slums, taking a break at times. Then we saw an information board that said ‘Sector 5 Slums’."

Scene 6

"Mummy, it says this is the Sector 5 slums. The house is in Sector 3, isn't it?"

"Nope. This is fine."

"But the new house is in Sector 3, right?"

"Aerith, let's hurry up a little. It's going to be nighttime."

"Where are we going? Where are we hurrying to?"

Without answering, Ifalna tightly grasped Aerith's hand and hastened her steps.

Many questions surfaced. Eventually, Ifalna started speaking silently.

"I've heard that there's a church in the Sector 5 Slums. In the past, people gathered here and prayed to God, but nobody comes here anymore. I've been thinking that we should hide here a little..."

"I've heard about God! Does he really exist?" Aerith was surprised.

"According to his believers, he does. I heard that when they pray, they get empowered."

"Pray...?"

"It's something like us Cetra speaking to the planet, although I don’t really understand it. But, since no one is coming to the church anymore, there probably aren't any believers. It's too bad for God, but it seems like it's great for our situation."

"We'll wait for Fuzz at the church?"

Ifalna stayed quiet for a while, then shook her head.

"We can't cause any more trouble than this."

"What about the new home?"

"We will not live there."

"Fuzz would be disappointed, wouldn't he?

"He probably will be."

"Are you okay with it, Mama?"

"As long as you're around, I'm okay."

Aerith thought that those were surprisingly comforting words. But that didn't mean that she didn't feel bad for Fuzz, nor had she gotten over the guilt of betraying him. However, after the thought that she didn't have to live seeing injections, medicine and backhand kisses, she felt a sense of relief.

"Let's go to the station first. I only know the way from there."

"Should we ask someone?"

"Nope. We don’t want anyone to know our whereabouts."

↞↠

There are times when there's not enough sunlight in the slums, as the plate was blocking them out. A giant lamp called the sun lamp makes up for that shortage. However, the light that was seen in the morning and afternoon was just like the actual sunlight. While she was amazed at her mother’s explanation, she also felt anxious. The evening was drawing near. She felt that something terrifying would happen if they didn't make it to church by sundown. A terrifying thing that she, too, couldn't imagine.

"Aerith, that looks like the station."

Aerith looked over. A train was about to depart. Unlike the Sector 4 Slums Station, Sector 5's Slums Station seemed like a small station with only a platform. There were probably a few commuters departing from the trains, and there weren't many passers-by too.

"Alright then, which way should we..."

Should we go? Those were the words she probably was going to say.

Without finishing her sentence, Ifalna sluggishly collapsed to the ground.

"Mummy?!"

Aerith's voice gathered the looks of her surroundings. However, nobody moved over to help.

Ifalna's breathing was heavy, and after touching her, Aerith realised she had a fever. A high fever.

"Mummy, where's your medicine?"

"I've... used them all..."

It was a desperate situation. What should Aerith do?

“Are you alright? Mummy?”

Ifalna said something from her painful breath. Aerith couldn’t hear it, so she brought her ears close to her lips. She only felt a hot sigh in her ears. What should she do? What should she do? Aerith's head became loaded with "What should I do". Her mother uttered something again, and Aerith heard that she's alright. But she was definitely not alright. However, what should she do? She wondered if anyone could help them, like how someone did at the Sector 4 Slums Station. Aerith lifted her head and looked for someone who seemed like they could help, but no one was paying attention to them. Would you please help us? Would you please look over here? These words come and go in Aerith's head. My mummy is sick. She has a fever. Please help us. Please, help us, please! However, she couldn't speak out.

"I'm sorry..." Ifalna muttered out. "We were... in the middle of an adventure..."

Please do not say such words.

"No!"

Her emotions overflowed in her voice.

“Are you sick?”

Looking back, there stood a man in faded and dirty clothes.

"Let's move her over there. She's blocking the way here."

Without waiting for a reply, he sprang into action.

He inserted his hands under both sides of Ifalna, lying face up, and started to back away.

Ifalna was being pulled along and had her shoe fall off her foot. Aerith picked the shoe up and gave them chase.

"Be more gentle!"

The man didn't change his expression and continued to pull her along. He sat her leaning against the station platform.

"Call a doctor."

"Where can we find one?"

"I don’t know, if it were me, I would shout out loud to find one."

The man turned back, and he really shouted out.

"Is there a doctor!"

However, there was no response.

"Well, all the best."

And just like that, the man went off without looking back.

"Oh, my goodness."

A well-dressed man and woman came over and looked at Ifalna scrutinisingly.

"Are you doctors?"

"No, we're not."

"That person, is she your Mama?"

"Shouldn't we quickly call out for a doctor?"

"Don't you have any medicine?"

While listening to both of them, her mother's words came to mind. The truly good people are those that act on it and give help. The people here weren’t them.

"Mummy wait here. I'm calling a doctor over."

Aerith ran while looking as though she was being crushed by anxiety.

"Is there a doctor?"

She exclaimed in the direction of a lot of people.

"Is there a doctor?"

Looking back, she was a long way away from the station. She then heard the voices of men and women. It was a cheerful-like group who walked over. She decided to ask them, and if that didn't work, she would head back to the station. Aerith ran.

She was about to ask them was there a doctor. Then she saw a youth turning around and coming close to her.

"Hey, I've told you so!" the man continued walking back towards her. "And yet..."

Aerith hurriedly tried to avoid him but did not make it in time, the man's butt struck her face, and she fell over. The men and women gathered their gaze on Aerith.

"Go home and sleep, kid!" exclaimed the man who bumped into Aerith, and his friends burst out laughing.

She absentmindedly got up while hearing the laughter of the leaving group. She felt frustrated, sad, angry and miserable.

"Are you alright?"

Aerith looked back, and there was a woman who seemed to look over worriedly. The simple, tied up hair behind her head swayed.

"I'm okay. Do you know a doctor?"

She noticed that she herself was crying and wiped away her own tears.

"I live in the outskirts, so I don't know any doctors around here."

Aerith gave her thanks and started to walk away. Whenever she was asked whether she was alright, she only could reply that she was alright. She wondered how many times she asked her mother that.

"Mummy. I'm sorry..."

Aerith ran towards the station.

Upon returning, she saw that her mother's body was covered with a blanket. A "good person" must have appeared and covered her with it. However, seeing her mother's painful state, she felt as though her chest became crushed. Her fever was so hot, she couldn’t even keep touching her.

"Mummy."

Even after she called out, Ifalna was still looking at the vast sky.

"Aerith. Are you here?"

"I'm here."

Ifalna's eyes searched for Aerith, and she grabbed her.

"This..." Ifalna pulled out a small pouch from her clothes and held it out.

"I got this from my dad, who got it from his mum, who also got it from her mum. It's not good for anything at all, but it has always been around, connecting us Cetra."

Aerith's chest became flaring hot.

"No. I don't want it."

If she takes it, it'll all be over. She had a strong hunch.

"Well... My life is ending soon. I'm returning to the Planet."

Ifalna's hand that was holding out the bag was trembling, and then it finally fell.

"Don't be sad. Even from here on out, I'll be by your side"

"Mummy."

"Are you alright?"

The voice came from above. She looked up towards the voice, and it was a woman, the same woman who called out to Aerith when she fell.

All of a sudden, Ifalna moved. She raised her upper body and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Take... Aerith... somewhere safe."

She said it with such a powerful voice that made Aerith wonder where she left that strength.

However, in the next moment, Ifalna's body became empty. Her spirit left her body, leaving her flesh and bones without its' host.

"Ah..." Aerith muttered without thinking.

Aerith repeated her mother's words in her head. Don't be sad. I'm returning to the Planet. I'll be by your side. Connecting us. She knew. Even though she knew, her chest still stung. Her tears were flowing down, and she let out her cry. Her body hurt and was also trembling. Someone was stroking her back.

Suddenly, the surroundings became busy. Aerith lifted her head and saw a train slipping into the platform with a roaring sound.

"Let's leave here."

The woman said as she firmly pulled Aerith's hand, forcing her up her feet. Aerith quickly picked up the pouch.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

The woman pulled Aerith's arm as she hurriedly tried to leave the station. She remembered being pulled by Ifalna and crossing the railway tracks. She wondered where this hand would take her.

Mummy, goodbye.

From here on out, they'll probably still be together. That was probably right. However, Aerith would not be able to feel that body anymore. She was not allowed to feel that body anymore because the form of her mother's life was different.

"Mummy!"

She turned back and yelled out to her mother, but the pull of her hand became stronger. She saw that the train stopped. When the door opened, Shinra troopers and men in white coats vigorously alighted.

"Let's run."

When the woman saw that Aerith wasn't moving, she picked her up roughly and started running.

↞↠

When they eventually approached the centre of the slums, the woman finally lowered Aerith.

"Are you able to walk?"

Aerith nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry I couldn't properly let you say goodbye."

Aerith shook her head.

"I'm truly sorry that I had to leave your mother there and head off."

The woman had a sincerely apologetic look on her face. Aerith nodded again.

"You poor thing."

"My mother only just returned to the Planet, so I'm not sad."

"Ahh... It seems that there are people who do think of it that way. Even so, it's sad to be separated, isn't it?"

"Nope. It is because I can still meet her."

"I see. Well then, firstly, let's go to my house, shall we? When you're there, you can cry all you want."

Scene 7

"But I didn't cry at all."

After Aerith said that, Tifa gave her a dubious-like look.

"My house, you've been there before, right? The one in the Sector 5 Slums."

"Yup. I've been there."

"There were lots of flowers, weren't there?"

"Yup!"

"When I went there for the first time, I was also welcomed by the flowers. Really, I felt that. I felt the Planet, and I felt my mother. That's why I didn’t have to cry. What I left behind wasn't my mother. My mother was here."

Tifa tilted her neck and was puzzled.

"I've been saying weird things, haven't I?"

Aerith laughed.

"I think it's strange, but it isn't weird."

"Thank you. I thought that you'd say that. That's why I'm able to talk."

Tifa felt something at the back of her nose.

"Hey! Hey!" Aerith wanted to change the mood. "My house was huge, wasn't it? For a house in the slums."

"Yeah! More than just being splendid, I thought that it was a proper house. It doesn't look like a house in the Slums nor a house in Midgar."

"That's right. The house belonged to Elmyra's father-in-law. People said that her father-in-law was an influential man. How do I describe him... A Corneo who isn’t bad.”

"A Corneo who isn’t bad?" Tifa repeated herself.

"Ahhh, it's impossible. The impression is too bad."

"Yeah. Only Corneo's face comes to mind."

"I've failed. Think of a more gentlemanly face. Anyone besides Corneo would be fine."

"I'll try."

It seemed that Tifa was really trying. However, she slipped out a laugh.

"Hmmm?"

"I don't know many guys who are gentlemanly."

Scene 8

Aerith, who knows little about the landscape of the slums, also quickly realised that it was a unique and special place unlike any other. It was a land with lots of nature. Plants grew on the levelled three-dimensional terrain, and even flowers were blooming. It was a stunning scenery for Aerith, who only knew flowers in vases or potted plants.

They travelled through the garden and started walking down the wooden plank, which was laid out to make a path. Aerith then felt someone stroking her hands and legs. She didn’t feel uneasy and fearful. There was a gentle and calm feeling on her heart, or perhaps her head.

"Who are you?"

The wind was blowing and brushed Aerith's cheek. Her heart was filled with joy.

"Did you say something?" Elmyra Gainsborough, who had already introduced herself on the road, turned her head around.

"Nope."

"I see..." Elmyra started walking again.

"There’s lots of grass, aren't there? It's an old plot of land, and it was left like that. There are lots of flowers blooming too. It's still blooming now, but these kinds are just beginning to bloom."

Aerith thought of a garden with lots of flowers and was delighted.

"I've been cutting and pulling them, but they are stubborn. It's hard because insects come too."

"I think it's good as it is."

"Well, but I'm giving up."

Elmyra's house was an old solid wooden building. They entered by opening an elaborately constructed double door with glass mounted on its' upper half.

Her day was filled with first time experiences since she left the Shinra Building. Above all, this experience of entering another person's house for the first time was like a lump of "first time"s striking down on her. The interior had an appearance in which plenty of natural wood was used. There were tables and chairs in the centre of the room. Unlike the rooms in the Shinra Building, the walls here had many windows. Furniture, tableware, pots, food, cleaning tools— it was like she could hear the breathing of the people living here. Aerith was distressed from the information overload and took a deep breath through her mouth.

"You're a strange child, aren't you?"

Elmyra laughed.

"I know it's sudden, but I thought about it along the way. I know I could bring you here, but what am I supposed to do after that? There was an orphanage on the way here, wasn't there? A lot of kids without parents live there. I thought about bringing you there, but there's a rumour that it's under the influence of Shinra Company. I thought about it after seeing what happened at the station. You probably hate the Shinra, don't you?"

Aerith nodded strongly many times.

"Well, we have to carefully think about what's going to happen from here on out," Elmyra let out a huge sigh. "But I'm not at a space to think about such complex matters now. Are you alright to go about this later and stay here for a while?"

Aerith nodded again and again.

"Well then, shall we go to the second floor?"

Elmyra, who seemed to be an impatient person, promptly climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Aerith hurriedly kept up and saw Elmyra waiting for her along the second-floor corridor.

"In the meanwhile, I'll let you stay upstairs."

"Okay."

"This is a house with a fair number of guests. If there suddenly were a child, they would find it suspicious, wouldn't they? More than anything, I can't guarantee that they wouldn't tell Shinra about you. For the time being, except when I say it's okay, I'll have you stay upstairs."

"For the time being... How long will that be?"

Elmyra frowned and folded her arms. The smile disappeared from her eyes.

"Honestly, tell me. Is Shinra chasing your mother? Or are they chasing you too?"

She knew the meaning of her question. However, how should she reply? She was also probably being chased too. She was undoubtedly being chased because she is a descendant of the Cetra.

"Ummm. Yes."

"It's alright if you say yes. However, if it comes to that, you'll be staying on the second floor until Shinra gives up finding you, okay?"

Aerith knew that Shinra would probably never give up searching for her. She'll probably live on the second floor her whole life.

"Don't look like that... It's human nature. You won't be here for an eternity."

"Um. Okay."

The doorbell rang downstairs. Elmyra frowned. Aerith felt nervous that it might be someone pursuing from Shinra.

"Wait here for a moment, quietly."

After quickly fixing up her hair and clothes, Elmyra went downstairs.

Aerith crouched down and hid her breath at that spot. After she thought she heard a sign of the door opening...

"Where did you go!"

The voice of a furious man burst through. Aerith lost her balance and quickly placed down her hand for support.

"That's none of your business!"

"You were the one who told me to come over in the evening, weren’t you? Oh? Do you treat people like this all the time?"

"I said I'll probably be here in the evening. I didn't make any promises. You can't come here every day at any time for no reason."

'It will end after a signature and a blood seal. How many times must I say it?"

"It will be the same no matter how many times you say it. Understand? This is about the way society works, and the rules. Without Meguro's consent, I also won’t do anything. And even with my blood seal, he would think that I gave in to a threat. If you want to keep your job forever, you have to stay true to your own words, okay?"

"Shit!"

"Your teeth will fall off from such foul words. Well then, go home!"

"Shit! Shit!"

"If you want to stand on top of others, you'll repent for it. Well, back off!"

It was the sound of the door slammed shut. The man was mumbling in an angry voice. However, she did not understand its content.

Elmyra returned to the second floor and seemed exhausted.

"Ahhhhh..." She let out a deep sigh.

"That was Carlo Kinky. That man, he's a special one. Other guests are normally just decent and quiet."

↞↠

Aerith was assigned to the room of Gabriel Gainsborough, who built the house, and that was his room where he had recuperative medical treatment until two months prior. It was tidied up and smelled clean. She didn't feel any hints of death.

"I don't really think it has a good atmosphere, but I don't have any other rooms. Nope, I have one, but I'll have to clean it up."

Elmyra felt apologetic. However, Aerith didn't care about it. In fact, she even felt a welcoming-like feeling from the room.

That night, Ifalna appeared by her bedside.

"I'll be supporting Elmyra being fond of you, okay?"

Ifalna laughed, but that smile had some kind of tiredness in it. It was the same smile as when she was walking in the slums.

"How did you come here?"

"It’s not that I came here, but we're always together because we are connected."

Aerith felt her mother's hand on her forehead. And before long, she slept with peace in her mind.

Ifalna appeared the next night too.

"How was today? I wonder if you got along with Elmyra."

"Hmmm... I don't know. Elmyra made breakfast, brought it to me, and we ate together. At that time, she made bread for me for lunch. She went out after that and then came back around dinner time. But, she seemed tired. That's why we didn't talk much. I can't get along with her. What should I do?"

"It's alright. Elmyra is having it rough now. But, I think you can help her. "

"What should I do?"

"When she wants to cry, stay with her and cuddle close together. It's the same as when I was here."

"... Mom, was there a time when you wanted to cry?"

"I probably did a few times..."

Scene 9

"I'll explain this," Aerith changed her tone to an excuse-like manner.

Tifa seemed to be in an absorbed-like state.

"When I was a kid, I thought that it was a dream, and I thought I was just talking in a dream, but that's not it."

"Um.... What do you mean by that?"

"It's one of the powers of the Cetra. We can be one with the floating life of the Planet. Through this life, and though it seems there are various conditions, we're able to communicate with people whom we're separated from."

"That's amazing, isn't it?"

“Right? It gets more different than you think. But I can't do it anymore. I can feel something when I go to a deep place, but usually not at all."

"I see."

"Like happiness and sadness. But, I have been through a lot due to this power when I was a kid. Well, I must be a strange kid, aren’t I?"

↞↠

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#ffvii ff7 ffviir ff7r ff7ln ffviiln

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pitviperofdoom · 3 years

Note

Might I ask about 'Life Preserver'? I have no idea what it could mean, and that makes me very curious👀

This is my pre-S1 JonGerry AU! They meet while Jon’s still in school and Gerry’s on the hunt for a Leitner. It’s part of a trilogy in my head that includes JonGerryMartin later on, but Life Preserver takes place before Jon becomes the Archivist and is just JonGerry.

Here’s a scene from it!

---

“Thanks for meeting me,” Georgie said, by way of greeting.

Gerry shrugged. “‘S fine. What’s the occasion?”

It was a nice day. The cafe was bustling but not overcrowded. Georgie had insisted on dragging him to the one empty table outside, with the nice view of the street and the park on the other side. Gerry had eaten lunch in far worse places, with far worse company.

Shit, were they friends? Had he missed that somehow? Not that Georgie wasn’t nice enough, but he’d always figured she was more invested in Jon than in him. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure if being friends with your boyfriend’s ex was a thing you were supposed to do, and at this point he was too afraid to ask.

“Why does there have to be an occasion?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just wanted a lunch partner.”

“Didn’t think you liked me that much,” Gerry said bluntly. Maybe that was harsh—she’d only given him a little bit of stink eye when they first met, and she’d let up pretty quick.

If Georgie was bothered by it, she didn’t show it. “I worry about Jon sometimes,” she said. “He’s not always the best at… at advocating for himself, I guess.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered.” For someone as prickly as Jon, he was shit at actually standing up for himself where it counted.

“Worried a lot about you, at first,” Georgie went on, clasping her hands around her coffee cup. “But I decided not to prod too much. I didn’t want to be one of those exes, you know?”

“Yeah,” Gerry lied.

“Figured it wasn’t my business anyway,” she said, pausing to take another sip. “Jon and I hadn’t talked in over a year by the time I met you.”

“Right.”

“You know, I didn’t even learn your full name?” she said. “Not til last week. Weird, isn’t it?”

Gerry paused with his cup halfway to his mouth. “I… guess?”

“And you know, it stuck in my mind for the longest time,” she said. “Could’ve sworn I heard it somewhere. So I did a quick Google search.”

Slowly, Gerry put his cup back down. Georgie continued to sip demurely at her own.

“Thought I’d find a Facebook page with a few friends in common,” she said. “Or a LinkedIn or something. So you can imagine how surprised I was.”

Gerry looked around at the cafe’s full outdoor seating area, and the crowded, public street beyond. Plenty of witnesses, in broad daylight.

“Ah,” he said.

“Yeah.”

Besides a slight lift of the eyebrows, Georgie’s expression barely changed. Gerry stared down at his cup, appetite gone. Around them, passersby remained happily oblivious.

“I didn’t do it,” he said after a moment. “The charges were dropped and everything.”

“On a technicality.” Georgie’s eyes were cold and steady when they settled on him. “Contaminated evidence, according to one of the news articles.”

“Look, I don’t know what you expect me to say,” Gerry bit out.

“I don’t know either, Gerry, but what am I supposed to think?” Neither of their voices rose above the dull roar of the street and the hum of conversation around them, but Gerry still felt like he was being shouted at. “Does Jon know about this?”

“No, and if I have my way, he won’t.”

Georgie’s steely gaze turned to a glare. “And you don’t see the red flags that might raise? That you might’ve—”

A tide of red rose up behind his eyes. Not anger, but the memory of blood, both the sight and the overpowering smell. “She did it to herself,” Gerry said coldly.

“Not what the coroner’s report said—”

“What do you want from me?” Gerry went on harshly. “I came home and found her halfway through—that. Went into shock long enough for her to get plenty of it on me, then ran out to the nearest coffeeshop and sat in a fog until the police picked me up. Happy?” Georgie’s glare only hardened. “It really doesn’t matter what you think. It’s the truth whether or not you believe it.”

She waited for him to wrest himself back to something resembling calm before speaking again. “Fine. Let’s say I believe you. Why are you lying to Jon, then?”

“Oh, tell me what the best time to bring that up is,” Gerry said dryly. “Is that a fourth date conversation, or more of an anniversary thing?”

“I’m not talking about the murder,” Georgie retorted. “Why did you tell him you’re living with your mother?”

He probably could have come up with a feasible lie. But what came out instead was, “Because I am.”

The look on Georgie’s face was viciously unimpressed. “You’re living with your mum.”

“Yep.”

“Your mum, who by your own admission, committed a violent suicide in 2008.”

“Got it in one.”

“If you’re not even going to take this seriously,” Georgie began.

“Would you like to meet her?” Gerry asked. “It’s not like it’d be the first time you saw a corpse get up and walk around, would it?”

Georgie froze.

That was the funny thing about saying cruel things, Gerry reflected. More often than not, you had to say them out loud first to realize they were cruel at all.

But it was out, and he couldn’t swallow it back down, so he let it sit there between them, bloating like a dead thing in the sun. He didn’t look at Georgie’s face again. He wasn’t sure he could.

“What did you just say to me?” Georgie said shakily.

“I don’t want to say it again,” said Gerry. “And I don’t think you do, either.”

“That’s…” She sat back in her chair, putting just a bit more distance between them. Gerry shut his eyes. “How—how could you possibly know about that?”

Gerry heaved a sigh, running his hand down his face. He could always stop. He could get up right now and walk away. Never talk to her again, never see her again. Of course, if he did that, it’d probably mean never seeing Jon again, either.

Not for the first time, he wondered if that wasn’t a good thing.

“When you live like I do,” he said at last. “You learn to see it. Recognize it—them. The marks on people. Like the one on you.”

It was subtle, as the End always was. It never looked like a proper scar, the way the more violent ones did. After all, what was more natural than death itself?

“I’m… marked,” Georgie said. It wasn’t a question.

“Kind of impressive, to be honest,” he said. “Dodging Terminus. Not many can say they’ve done that.”

“Stop.” Her hands went to her ears quickly, almost instinctively, before she forced them down again. “Just, stop for a second.”

“Okay.”

Georgie sat and breathed for a moment. Then, “So your mother—” She paused again, gathering herself. “She… she was like that woman in the medical sciences building.”

“Dunno,” Gerry replied, forcing himself to look at her again. “I can see the scar, not what left it. And what my mum did was… unique.”

Her eyes were still fixed on the table in front of her, not on him. “Is this common?” she asked.

“Walking corpses, specifically?” Gerry asked. “Or did you mean more generally?” She nodded once. “Guess so. It’s been common enough to take over my life.” He watched her carefully, waiting for a sign that he should stop again. “There are forces behind the monsters. Powerful. Omnipresent, even. Most people are lucky enough not to notice, or be noticed. Some are lucky like you, and escape with only a scar. Others—” The Eye dropped a helpful bit of trivia in his head. “Others are like your friend.” She flinched. “Sorry.”

She sat and breathed for a little while longer. Gerry picked up his coffee cup again and waited.

“And what about you?” she asked at last. “Where do you fall?”

Gerry grimaced. “Long story. Very unpleasant.”

“Broad strokes, then.”

“Mum grew up seeing the monsters and decided it’d be nice if she could be one herself,” he said. “Then she thought it’d be even nicer to start a little monster dynasty, and that’s where I came in.”

At last, Georgie lifted her chin and looked him in the eye again. “And what about you?” she asked. “What do you want?” Her jaw shifted as it clenched. “What do you want with Jon?”

“I’m not going to hurt him,” he said quietly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Georgie’s eyes hardened again. “You know what I thought, when I first met you? I thought you were just—toying with him. Because I saw how he looked at you and how you looked at him, and it didn’t match. Like he was just—just a diversion for you. Just some passing curiosity until you got bored and moved on.”

Gerry slipped his hand off the table and into his lap. It was a bit late, she’d probably already seen it shaking, but it made him feel better, at least.

“Was I right?” Georgie asked. “It makes sense, even if it’s not the same as what I first thought. Growing up like that, I bet you’re curious. Is that what Jon is, to you? A way to play at being—”

“Human?” It came out harsher than he meant it to.

“I was going to say normal,” Georgie replied, glancing away for a moment. “But if these—monsters are as common as you say they are…”

“Look, you’re not wrong, alright?” Gerry sat back in his chair, letting his spine curve into an ugly slouch. “That’s how it started. He asked, and I was curious, so I went along with it.”

“And now?” she pressed.

“And now I want to keep it,” he said. “I want to keep him. I’m finally starting to like the world outside of the one I grew up in, probably because I finally have a reason to be here. Happy?”

“No,” Georgie said flatly.

Gerry tipped his head back with a groan. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to acknowledge what this sounds like!” Georgie glared at him, sitting up straight enough to look down at him. “What you’re making it sound like! So you grew up in a bad place—fine. I can’t imagine what that’s like. But then—what, you meet a nice guy and now you’re ready to leave it all behind and defy your undead mum and turn to the light side, just like that? That is not how it works, Gerry. It’s not as simple as that in this world, much less yours. You don’t just fall in love and fix everything, and it’s not fair to put that on Jon—”

Gerry barked out a laugh. “Is that what you took from this?” he demanded, dragging himself back up to face her. “You think I need you to tell me that—that love doesn’t conquer all, and I can’t pack all my baggage away and skip into the sunset because a cute boy asked me on a date and showed me the error of my family’s ways? Fuck you.”

Georgie held his gaze, unflinching. “Fine,” she said. “How should I have taken it, then?”

“I’ve wanted out since I was old enough to want anything.” The words came as if ripped from him, raw and bloody-tasting on his tongue. “You think I’ve never tried to leave before? But where’s someone like me supposed to go, hm? Even if I didn’t have monsters in my head and her ready to drag me back if I don’t come on my own, what place is there for me to run to?”

She didn’t flinch or look away again, even with Gerry a breath away from yelling in her face. Instead she watched him without so much as a twitch of an eyelid, leeching the venom from him with steady, infuriating calm.

“It’s like this,” he said. “Like I’m on a—a ship, sinking in a storm. I know if I stay on it, it’ll take me down with it, but what choice do I have? I could jump, but it would only drown me faster.” He swallowed, struggling against the dryness in his throat. “And I can see, just off the deck, all the boats that don’t have room for me, and all the people drowning in the ocean, and all I can do is stay where I am and throw life preservers until I join them.” His eyes burned. “But then I met Jon, and suddenly it’s like I have…” He gestured vaguely, struggling with his own analogy.

“A safe harbor,” Georgie said quietly.

He shook his head. “No. I don’t think there is one. Not from this. Not from them.” He shrugged, feeling inordinately tired. “But for the first time, I feel like—like if I jump, someone will throw me a line.”

In the space that followed, the hum of surrounding conversations washed back in between them. Gerry was almost surprised to see them still there. Apparently he hadn’t gotten loud enough to scare anyone off.

“Well?” he said, when Georgie’s silence got to him.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“And I’m still worried about Jon.” She lifted her eyes to meet his again. “But, I’m less worried about your intentions than I was before.”

“Guess that’s something,” he answered, and heaved a sigh. “So what happens now? Gonna demand I come clean with him?”

“No,” she said, faster than he would have expected. “No, I… I never told him about mine. And, just on instinct… I don’t think I’d ever want him dragged into this, if it’s avoidable.”

She didn’t know, Gerry realized. She’d known him years longer than he did, and she didn’t know he came scarred by the Spider.

“Is he in danger?” she asked. “Being with you?”

“No,” Gerry said firmly. “I wouldn’t—no. I keep him as far away from my shitty life as I can. I told him I didn’t want him anywhere near my family, and he didn’t press the issue.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “He thinks your mum’s a homophobe, you know.”

That shocked a laugh out of him. “You know, he’s probably right? Think she might just hate the idea of love in general, though.”

“Messy divorce, I take it,” Georgie said dryly.

“Rohypnol and garden shears were involved, so yeah, I’d say it was pretty messy.” He realized his mistake when the sickened look crossed her face. “Sorry.”

“It’s… fine,” she said. “Probably should’ve guessed.”

They sat in silence again, but the climate of it had shifted. It felt easier, somehow. Less like he half-expected the fog of the Lonely to come rolling in for a snack. Gerry remembered his coffee, and found it just on the edge of lukewarm. He drank it anyway.

Georgie shot him one last odd look, then took out her phone. She scrolled through it for a minute or so, then snagged a paper napkin and pulled a ballpoint pen from somewhere to scribble on it.

“Here,” she said, sliding it over. Gerry looked down to find a line of neat blue numbers. “That’s the number of the therapist I talked to after—what happened to me.” She looked at him briefly, saw the dubious look on his face, and shrugged at him. “Just in case you need another lifeline.”

It was strange—usually Jon was the one to make funny things happen in his chest. This one didn’t feel the same, but he still didn’t quite know what to do with it. It left him feeling uncomfortably like he owed her something.

“I won’t let any of it hurt him,” he said, because he had nothing else to offer. “I’ll end it myself before I put him in danger.”

She nodded, though she didn’t look as relieved about it as he’d hoped. “That’s good,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t be a martyr, either. You—you deserve help. You deserve a chance to get out. You know that, right?”

He tried to smile, but it felt more like baring his teeth in fear. “Don’t think I really know what anyone deserves.”

Georgie reached across the space between them, telegraphing her movements in case he wanted to pull away. He didn’t, even as her hand settled on top of his. “I’m rooting for you, alright?” she said firmly, as if she’d just decided it then and there. “Jon’s… he’s happy with you, you know?”

“Fuck if I know why,” he forced out.

“Stop that.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I changed my mind about you, before. I can tell he makes you happy, too.”

His throat felt tight. “Yeah.”

“Fuck if I know why.”

“Oh, piss off.”

He palmed the napkin while she was busy laughing at him. For a moment he eyed the nearest bin, judging the distance and his chances of making it without her noticing. The moment passed, and instead he folded it carefully around the numbers and slipped it into his pocket to throw out later.

He never did.

#tma fic #jongerry #georgie barker #gerard keay #safe harbor au #tales from the pit #ash-rabbit

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pi-cat000 · 3 years

Text

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (5)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START / RREV / NEXT

Ms Iroi always tries to engage him in conversation whenever she comes in, asking questions and chatting to herself in a fruitless attempt at helping him recover his 'lost' memories. Most of the time, Kakashi is indifferent to her presence and always has a magazine handy as an excuse not to talk.

Today, Iroi is in a particularly good mood, humming to herself, greeting him with an energetic, “How are you doing today!”

Kakashi grunts a noncommittal response which doesn’t do much to discourage the woman’s good mood as she runs through a check-up routine.

“You should try watching U.A’s sports festival tomorrow. I hear it’s going to be particularly spectacular this year,” she says as she pulls the blinds on Kakashi's window, blocking out the distant city lights.

U.A? he recognises the name. Kakashi glances up over the pages of HERO!! MONTHLY BREAKDOWN. It is the third time he has read this issue.

“You know, since you like reading those hero magazines, I figured you would be interested in watching the ‘next generation of heroes’ debut,” she continues, noting his attention, “U.A always puts on a good show.”

Kakashi frowns. The problem with his amnesia cover story is that he is still trying to figure out what he can get away with not remembering. So far the doctor’s seem content to chalk up the disappearance of his long term memories to a ‘quirk’ accident but were always more concerned when he failed to recall basic factual information. Something to do with different parts of the brain being responsible for different types of information.

“Watch how?” He settles on asking. U.A. was supposed to be a hero-training academy so whatever this ‘sports festival’ was was worth checking out.

“Oh,” Iori pauses to think, “I, ah, think channel 2 with be covering it?” she hesitates, “You know what. I’ll look it up and let you know later. Sorry, I can’t carry my phone around with me while on shift.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and makes a show of returning to his magazine to dissuade further conversation.

Later the same evening, just before the end of the evening shift, Iori pokes her head into his room again. She is out of uniform, long hair untired, waving to catch his attention.

“The coverage is on channel 2 and starts at 11am,” She holds up her portable communication devise like it means something. It probably did mean something. The frequency by which people checked them suggested it had a function beyond basic communication. He has held off attempting to steal one because, unlike pens, people would notice and care if one went missing.

“Have fun watching! Oh… also, I forgot to ask…”

Kakashi raises a brow.

“I have a bunch of old gossip magazines. Mum used to read them all the time and there are a few hero-themed ones in the mix. I can bring them in if you want more stuff to read.”

“If you want.” Iori must have noticed him re-reading the magazines.

"I'll bring them on Friday!"

Iori had been unsubtly hinting that Kakashi might have had a history in heroics. It definitely wasn’t because reading information on a page just made sense when compared to the barrage of conflicting reports the television gave him. A few weeks with only the television as his information source has him writing off most of its information as useless or propaganda.

…

...

“HEELLLOOOOO, LISTENERS!”

Kakashi stares dully as the video footage, which had been giving him a bird’s eye view of a positively massive stadium, changes to a sweeping shot of what must be thousands of people crammed into seats. It almost makes him claustrophobic just watching it.

“WELLCOME TO OUR ANNUAL U.A. SPORTS FESTIVAL! THE HIGH SCHOOL ADOLESCENT RODEO YOU ALL LOVE TO WATCH. CAN A GET A ‘OH YEAH!’”

As if of one mind, thousands of people leap to their feet screaming. The camera angle changes again to show a grinning blond-haired man, seated at a desk and pointing enthusiastically at the camera. All these shot changes are going to give him a headache. Kakashi is already having reservations watching this and its only10 minutes.

“Thank you! You’re an AMAZING audience!”

It almost reminds him of the final Chunin Exam stages -if the Chunin exams had had three times the audience - which always involved some sort of combat display. There hadn’t been any public Chunin Exams recently for reasons such as a large portion of Konoha being flattened by Pein.

“FIRST UP ARE OUR FIRST-YEAR EVENTS! And what an exciting round of events they are, perfect for debuting our newest students! Give us a shout so they can feel your support!”

Another loud shot as thousands of people yelled in unison.

“Come on! Louder than that! These are your future Heroes I’m talking about! SHOW THEM SOME LOVE!”

More yelling. Kakashi turns down the volume.

“But! Wait just a minute!! We're not only here for our Hero students! As I'm sure you all know, behind every great hero is a hardworking support team! GIVE IT UP FOR our Support, Management and General departments who are also competing for a chance to face off in the finals!”

Kakashi sighs. He is getting the sense that this might be more for entertainment than utility purposes, conforming to the general trend of Hero-related stuff being flashy. Different from the Chunin exam which had deadly consequences if not taken seriously.

“Hey. Hey! HERE THEY COME NOW! OUR STUDENTS PARTICIPATING IN THE FIRST YEAR STAGE!”

What follows is an overly dramatized race where the only thing of interest to him are the obstacle types, including robots, - mobile mechanical weapons of some sort that produced a lot of environmental damage but were taken down fairly easily- and explosive devices that acted a lot like explosive tags. Then there was a team elimination round and one-on-one tournament fights after which the coverage shifts to the second year and third year stages.

He uncovers the sharingun only to discover that, while its memorisation function worked fine, the part that translated the movements into muscle memory felt off. Perhaps, the replication and copying component of the eye didn’t work when viewing a technique through a screen rather than in person. Interesting. As there wasn't anything particularly impressive technique-wise during the events he counts the new information as a net gain.

The student-heroes – he is not sure if there is an official term for a hero in training – barely match Konoha’s academy standard in their taijutsu and physical conditioning though there was marked improvement between first, second and third-year groups. These students were what...between 14-18 years old...and yet most had the skill level of an academy students and fresh genuin with only a few notable exceptions?

Sure, there were - honestly ridiculous- versatile and powerful bloodline abilities being thrown around like nothing, but ninjutsu techniques only took a shinobi so far without a strong base to work from. He shakes his head, reminding himself that these kids - because what else did you call combatants who hadn’t graduated yet- weren’t shinobi in training and would be policing civilians and engaging ‘Villains’ of similar skill levels. It was obvious that the students favoured non-lethal takedown methods and put little to no thought into stealth and misdirection during fights.

Different words…different priorities.

As Kakashi has yet to see any evidence that the country, Japan, was at war with another he thinks the skill level displayed might be serviceable. There were also no major conflicts between the country’s large cities over farmland, water sources and the like. Obviously, this place had sorted out the resource and distribution issues usually encountered when supporting such large populations. Or, who knows, maybe everything on the television was a carefully constructed lie to lull people into complacency.

Now he has seen an example of hero-students, he better understands the low combat ability demonstrated by the police. It also gives incite into the blurry recordings of Hero/Villain confrontations which played on repeat across the various ‘news’ reports. They all tended to hover around Chunin or maybe Special Jounin in terms of skill. He knows generalisations are dangerous so, until he saw the combat in person, he would exercise his usual level of caution. There were bound to be outliers after all-the impressive brute strength of the number one hero comes to mind- and there was no telling what advantages a bloodline ability might provide. Absently, he makes testing the susceptibly of people without chakra to genjustu as something to figure out sooner rather than later.

He sighs. This is why he hated the television. Whenever he watched it, he came away increasingly confused, with more questions than he had answers. Not to mention anything useful being constantly interrupted with information detailing one of the many products that he could apparently buy here. It irritated him to no end.

...

The chakra collecting seal is ready before the week is out. Mostly ready...it was ready enough.

Kakashi returns to the roof. Sitting cross-legged, back against the stairway entrance, he works his way through the 100 or so pens, cracking them open and tapping out ink into a large bowl, stolen -like the pens -from hospital staff.

The mix of black, blue and red ink is gluggy, forcing him to add water to thin the solution out. Once satisfied he pulls out an appropriated scalpel – one of a growing collection hidden alongside his pens because having a stash of weapons is never a bad thing- pricking his middle finger, watching the blood drip and curdle with the mixture. The blood would be absorbed into the ink, allowing it to conduct chakra. He mixes everything with pair of disposable chopsticks, taking care not to spill it on the ground or stain his hands.

The whole process reminds him of other insistences where he had improvised fuinjutsu ink in the field. The last time being during his final Anbu missions where he had created a body storage scroll from scratch after unexpectedly losing a squad mate on what should have been a simple intel retrieval mission. Not a particularly fond memory but a memory he was stuck with.

Since his demotion to Jonin-sensei there had been fewer of those sorts of missions. Not that being a Jonin-sensei had been easy – considering all his students had gone off to find other teachers he didn't even think he had been particularly good at it - bringing with it its own special brand of stress, culminating in a stint as Hokage, a fourth war and him stuck here. He is pretty sure his experiences aren't universal. Team 7 was just cursed to fail in increasingly spectacular ways.

He lets out a heavy sigh, leaving his airways open to a sudden gust of cold wind which carries the scent of cleaning chemicals from the hospital and oil from the road straight up his nose. He exhales forcefully and mentally bumps finding a face mask up his list of priorities. It would be good for hiding his features and dulling the artificial smells of a city housing over a million people.

The sound of wind whistling around the building almost blocks out the echo of feet in the stairway, approaching his location. In one smooth motion, Kakashi stands pushing the remaining broken pen back into the vent, nudging the cover back in place with his foot. Carefully he holds the bowl of ink in his injured arm and a scalpel in the other. Kakashi steps back against the entrance so the outward opening door would hide him from whoever came out.

A crying kid comes barrelling through the door.

Well, not completely crying, more like sniffing loudly, eyes all shiny. He even recognises the kid from the U.A combat demonstration, as improbable as that was. It is the first year hero student with the speed-enhancing ability which, seeing him up close, probably had something to do with the strange growths coming out of his caff muscles. High speed movement put enormous strain on the body so he could reasonably conclude that the kid was physically resilient to acceleration stress and similar forces. Not resilient to stabbing though....

Kakashi forces himself to relax, his scalpel lowering ever so slightly. Lucky he had heard the kid coming or he might have accidentally hurt him. A few weeks of reduced sleep coupled with a lot of time to ruminate on past missions and failures has put him on edge. This was exactly why he disliked taking extended breaks.

Maybe, Kakashi should start relocking the stairway if he was planning to make regular trips up here because the young male probably hadn’t had the roof in mind as a destination. Kakashi knows from experience that, unless you were injured or a member of staff, there were few good reasons to wander around a hospital at odd hours.

With the hero-student distracted sniffling into his arm, Kakashi slips around the door and back down the stairs. He hadn’t planned on applying the seal on the roof anyway. Too exposed to the elements and the concrete was too rough for the delicate line work.

He continues mixing while he walks, having mentally mapped the hospital well enough to know which hallways to use and which to avoid. There is a surgeon with some sort of heat-sensing vision who works late most nights that he must be careful around and a nurse with a weak proximity based empathic ability working in paediatrics. Both obstacles force him to take a meandering detour on his way to the ground floor and the larger shower blocks which housed cubicles the size of small rooms. Enough smooth floorspace for the expanded seal design and easy to clean afterwards. He supposes he is lucky, some complicated fuinjutsu required several meters worth of floor space. The containment on Saskue’s cursed seal comes to mind and he is glad that this seal is infinity smaller.

Not one to waste time knowing that nurses and patients regularly used the space even this late in the evening, he immediately slips into a cubicle upon arrival. Flopping onto the floor he pulls out the paintbrush he had had scour the hospital for and eventually to steal from the children’s ward. Carefully, he begins the slow process of application.

…

The final seal design is circular, about the size of his splayed hand, positioned on his uninjured shoulder just above where his Anbu seal had previously sat. The sleepwear provided by the hospital had sleeves that extend just past his bicep. It hid the design, for the most part. The final visible seal is a bit bigger than he had predicted or planned for. If this were a proper infiltration mission, where blowing his cover came at the price of death, he would be in big trouble. If this were a proper mission, he would have waited before applying this. An unnecessary risk. He itches the back of his head, turning from where he is craning his neck to see the seal, gathering up his supplies to be thrown in one of the hospital’s many rubbish bins. Kakashi lets out a breath. Maybe, this whole ‘trapped in a different world’ thing is affecting him more than he was willing to admit and making him sloppy.

He pulls down the sleeve so it mostly hides the design. Not like the doctors here would recognise the significance of fuinjutsu, he reminds himself, even if their questions would be annoying to deflect.

He pumps chakra into the seal and a jolt akin to lightning runs down his limb. It activates without issue and Kakashi grimaces as his chakra is slowly drained and collected. The rate of the drain is pathetically slow. Three years too slow. But, between this and his sharingan - which was always active and draining chakra- he can’t risk making it quicker. Despite the relatively low-level threats around him, Kakashi is, first and foremost, a Jonin in an unknown territory who is already taking risks simply making and applying the seal. He can’t afford to impair himself with poor chakra management on top of everything else.

Kakashi pops his head out of the cubical, scanning the shower block. Nothing of note has changed and he darts out, intent on returning to his room. He is tired and it would be a long, tiresome week as his body adjusted to the strain as well.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #naruto #CrossOver #dimension travel AU #hatake kakashi #kakashi headcanons #cultural shock #Iida makes a breif cameo #fanfiction #my hero academia #plot continues to move at a glacial pace

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flour-cloud · 3 years

Text

Henlo fandom! Now we explore that angst situation where Alcina is drunk by a excessive amount of maiden's blood and passed out in front of Donna's door. Mention of: self-inflicted pain, blood, tortures and loss of children.

It is a cold, dark night. When that forgotten-by-Gods village had a night with a full moon and shining stars? Something that was remotely...nice? Alcina was devastated by Ethan's murder of her daughters, she managed to survive by pure accident and the basements smell so good, that place looks so inviting and tempting: darkness, loneliness, silence. Peace. A dead woman rotten to the core clearly belonged to a place with that aura. A long,red,solitary tear run from her eyes to her neck all the way down that white, burned and ripped dress she loves so much. Alcina put her head under the blood line in a tub full of sanguine Virginis than she walks out the door. That disgusting human stole the body of her angels after the fight. If the vampire had a heart she probably would ripped it off her chest. The lady of the castle try to sit on chair made of iron spines in order to feel something different. Maybe that inflicted pain is the proof she has a heart,but one that does not pump anymore. If she peeled her skin maybe she would find crystals, something more noble than that rotten corpse that she is.That numb in her mind ... she was unable to say a single word about anything. The blood she drunk is restoring her body-structures and organs, but she has no urgency of breathing. Suddenly,when the moon reveals itself trough clouds Alcina decides to stand up and drink some more. Her head only reminds her how disgraceful that behaviour is.

So Alcina walks for minutes,for hours, ignored by monsters on the streets,by animals. And she passed out in a foggy zone she does not remember .

Angie opened the door.

"Mom! That tall busty woman smalls bad! Maybe is dead! Can we use her skin? May I have her claws? We can cut them off! " suggests the creature .

It is not usual that Donna moves to the front door from her chamber and her laboratory in the house,but when Angie calls mom should be there, no? A woman passed out at her door? A tall,busty woman? Maybe Alcina? That sounds bad. She paused for a moment and she looks down at her feet the big, stained and smelling body. "Call for help,Angie " Donna decides abruptly "no,darling, you can't have claws from her,she is alive. Very alive, stinky, but alive".

A bunch of clowns and creepy broken dolls help to transport Alcina inside.

Donna is disappointed when Alcina's blood stained the elegant sofa, she scrunch her nose a bit. "Now what? I am bored,mom". "Now we wait, Angie, come here" that authoritative and quiet calls is enough for the doll to obey happily.

Alcina opens her eyes.

"What happened?"asks Donna "miss, what happened?".

"I ... Bela,Cassandra...Daniela" the vampire tried to speak with a bit of fake confidence "they are gone. My precious angels are gone" more blood more tears more stains shaking in her big, massive body.

"Ethan" Donna is clever and fast in deduction "I have to give him the second piece of that baby".

"Miranda will scold you" a fake answer to something that was not a question.

"I am not afraid of her" Donna answers "are you afraid of Mother Miranda?"

"You should. She is immortal until we gave Rose pieces" tells the vampire. Alcina breathe instinctively for a moment and she looks at the veiled woman "she took you,darling,why disrespecting her?"

"Why fight to live without hope of a win? Why to live without the ones we love? We were chosen by mother's, but we are us, we ... feel. She doesn't. I am supposed to be grateful but Mother Miranda only expanded my sorrow."

The whole debate happened trough a doll. A demonic,creepy,doll that Alcina found incredibly creepy but well preserved. The lady scans the room with the eyes able to see in the dark: well dressed dolls with perfect hair and the finest jewelry on the shelves, the flowers and the toxic flowers on the table, the finest piece of furniture. That woman shows taste in art and wood pieces. Alcina looked at her hands: pale long fingers with nails painted in black.

Donna suddenly look distressed and she disappeared in the deep of the house. The conversation was too much for her fragile mind. She need some space and Alcina was not in the mood to follow her.

Time goes by, Ethan got the baby part, but Donna is still alive. Alcina hide while all happened.

Alcina does not know why that dolls were so fascinated by her. Not only Angelica was possessed and possessive, but she started to follow her with a big scissor in her tiny hand. The woman takes her up one day:"Mom she picked me,mom!"the doll screams from the top of her lungs.

Donna remained silent.

Alcina show a vague interest in the demonic creature, but she acts sweetly when the focus is on her: someone like her cannot be bothered by a minuscule doll.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"I want your claws! Mama does not want me to have them, but they are beautiful and sharpened!" she laughed hysterically.

"You have to listen to your mother, sweet creature" she whispered "mother knows best".

"You have daughters! I remember mama told me about them".

"I had . They were killed by Ethan". It is the first time Alcina can say it out loud, verbally. That sentence sounds unbreakable and definitive, but true.

The doll sits on her shoulder:"You are so tall madame, I can climb you. I still don't get why you choose my door to pass out a week ago".

Ah,the voices shifting, Donna is back from darkness.

"Do you want to climb me specifically, Donna,or is that a little joke from your doll?". Alcina does not have idea if she was flirty and why. The artist does not want to makes Donna close herself again inside her dark mind.

Alcina thought about the last time she met the dollmaker, that elegant, dark and melancholic figure that speaks only by her doll. In the past week she saw Beneviento dress, the creative process of her creatures. "She has daughters that will never be corrupted by Miranda" she thoughts feeling the sadness arise in her chest.

Donna in her room is sewing faster than usual. She missed a point. She is distracted, she is afraid and that sentence in mind:"Do you want to climb me?" What does that mean? That woman has no shame literally and Donna does not want to be touched by anyone. Maybe Angie could do some work with her body and that vampire was enormous. Ugh. Too much to process.

Donna Beneviento decide she should do something about the vampire question in her room downstairs.

"I am sorry for the loss you experienced " Donna declared with her firm and soft voice "I want to give you something" . The creative act is sacred to Donna, she infused the presents with magic and dark force but the looks,oh, the details, the refined painting and the matching capes. Every doll has its own blade and insects made by gemstones on the dresses.

Alcina collapsed on her knees and then looked to Donna who keep an unreadable expression under her curtain. "You should stop drink this much, madame. I cannot stay here every night of my life listening to bad jokes about sapphic sex".

Donna run away and Alcina takes two big breaths in, two out. These dolls were identical to her daughters, it was a gift by Donna , a sign of her attention to the loss and mourning the woman faced.

No, her daughters did not die forever. She takes the dolls and cuddle them, she held them onto her chest.

What was that about sapphic sex? The vampire rolled her eyes.

Also Angie climb up to her. She wants to be cuddled and hugged.

"You'll may be my new second mum if you stop scaring mama Donna" she warning the woman.

"I am not scaring your mother and I was still drunk".

"Don't try to justify yourself!" That scream again from empty lungs not used to work properly. Alcina avoided a blade from Angie. "Mom appreciated you eradicated flowers Miranda gave us. Mom wants to be happy. Mom wants to be safe ".

Alcina ripped the horrendous flowers from the house and the garden one of the morning after she get drunk. Alcina as a perfect lady was not able to keep her hands out of Donna's house that was... dirty, if she had to say kindly. The lady decided that an act of good can do better than a dozens words of wisdom.

"I did it because it was necessary: if she wanted to be freed from Miranda's power the flowers are a first step".

"Mom knows that you are kind and considerate. Sometimes. When you do not eat human flesh, she doesn't like that behaviour ".

"It is not something I decided to start: It is a consequence of the mutation Miranda induced" the vampire defends herself.

"She knows,but she does not like it anyway" replied Angie" and she also think you two have two talk when she feels better". Alcina agreed

The next monday Donna feel better to face a conversation. At 9.00 in the morning,Donna shows up at the table .

Alcina looked at her:"How are you,darling?".

"Scared" answered Donna " and tired. Do you still have some jokes about sex? I find sex repulsive".

"I find sex interesting. But I am the one here who is trivial and coarse isn't it?" She smiled " so you are interested in me but not in sexual situations. Ok" she sipped a little of blood tea.

Beneviento didn't expected that fast acceptance for her condition about their relationship. Relationship? Oh God. She looked at Alcina.

"Is that ok for you?".

"Incredibly ok" answered the vampire lady "you host me in your home, you gave me your couch and you use your magic for me without doubting a moment. If I have to renounce sex for all of this...fine. your doll is far more interesting to me than a vagina".

"Thank you". The only thing miss Beneviento was able to think about was "thank you" like a broken neon.

The vampire nodded :"yes,I know, I am fabulous and awesome and I eat human flesh but darling,I would be too perfect If I didn't. You have fetus in the hall".

"It is an allucination" said Donna but she laughed "do you like it? Sometimes I call it Roger".

"You give your hallucinations names?"asked the woman.

"They were the only thing I had before your drunk depressed night walk".

"So I did the right thing somehow" decided the brunette, happily .

"No, but I am not in the position to criticise your choices ".

"You did it right now".

"I prefer to call what I did - exposing facts-" Donna take the tea.

Alcina laughed and also Angie.

"You have very strange reaction when you are afraid. So you need another mom for Angie?"

The dollmaker was quiet for a moment:"Yes. And weren't you the one who was happy with climbing up to each other?".

Sassy. Donna Beneviento is incredibly sassy when she feel enough strength and emotional involvement with someone. Alcina loves it.

"So can I climb on you?"asked Angie to Alcina" now you are my mom!" The little doll was delighted with her new person in the house.

Alcina gave to Donna a long,intense and funny sight. The question implied is clear to them both.

Maybe Donna also needed a mom sometimes. Maybe her damaged mind blurs the lines between the affection she missed and the affection she is getting,but that's not important. She is happy again, the house is full of living presences. A vampire. Oh,the irony...

The doll hugged mom Alcina strongly.

Miranda punished Donna for the misbehaving and the Ethan question, she suffered again and she came back home struggling to breathe properly because of the tortures she faced.

Alcina preserved her and protected her till the end of their time. The explosion and the mold died was a relief to both of them. Angie was broken,but Donna opened her single eye with the face covered in blood. She snuggled into Alcina arms for a moment covering her dress with stains, the vampire cleanse the veils in a fountain and put them back on Donna's angelic face, giving her a kiss.

"Sleep,darling, you are tired" Dimitrescu murmured while caressing the hair of the other woman on her lap "sleep,I am here. We did it. Ethan won".

"I want to be drunk right know" Donna declared and gives Alcina a kiss, a long, intense blood-tasting kiss.

"Nah,darling,better this way. I am sure tomorrow you will be at work for something that can climb up to me and I have a maiden to crush".

"Probably " answered Donna "but please,do not left the couch dirty. I have only one couch" and she fall asleep after a long time, hand in hand with someone who loves.

#resident evil what if #resident evil headcanons #resident evil the village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #donna beneviento #alcinaxdonna #lesbian dimitrescu #countess alcina dimitrescu #countess alcina #vampire #fluff #angst #short stories #fanfiction #resident evil fanfic

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Heyheyhey two things; Seer!Cloud Strife, who wakes Vincent up like, when he's six/five because of what he /saw./ or sky!Cloud that happens to awaken Vincent from his sleep 'cuz sky attraction. (Sephs mum was a sky?? Vincent was 'flame courting' her??) (I JUST WANT PROTECTIVE VINCENT, OKAY? I LOVE HIM.)

Oooooo hmmm tricky. Gonna focus on Seer!Cloud because that’s real interesting-.

Real quick on Sky!Cloud tho: that would be such a chaotic combo. Sky!Cloud in all his feral glory and wild instincts (because Flames are forgotten, secret things in most “civilized” places but Nibelheim is not what one would really call “civilized” in that way so Flames are still a thing) senses a powerful Flame in the mansion and is curious. And he doesn’t want to court the kids his age who have flickers of fire, because they are too weak still and he will smother them on accident (like he nearly did with Tifa, but it’s not her fault, her Flame is young and not Blessed like Cloud’s with Destiny, so it does not roar like a bonfire yet even though it will in time). So he gathers himself and marches to the mansion to find this big Flame, and Vincent is yanked out of sleep when his own Cloud Flames howl at the feel of a young, powerful Sky fighting and fearing the mansion’s monsters above his head. Vincent is moving before he is aware of it, rushing up the stairs on pure, feral instinct that he has tried to hard to bury since losing Lucrecia at the cusp of finalizing their bond, and he-

Arrives. Snatches up the child in one arm while the other fires his gun and obliterates any monster nearby. The child latches on, scared and desperate and longing-

There is a click and a jolt and Vincent keens in a heady mix of guilt-relief-shock-pain at the sudden snap bond. Because he promised he would only love one Sky and she turned her back on him, yet now there is another, younger Sky would understands his soul and bonds with it instantly, before they even know each other’s names, and it HURTS but it is also a RELIEF.

And that is how bby Sky Cloud got the most monstrously protective Turk Cloud Vincent ever. XD

Canon goes yeet. There’s no way Vincent is letting Cloud anywhere near Shinra unprepared, and no WAY he’s letting Cloud get pumped full of drugs in this “Soldier” program led by Hojo. Vincent’s just: welp time to kill the mad scientist that hurt me. And then he finds Sephiroth and he’s like !!!!!!! because he can feel Lucrecia’s Flame signature in Sephiroth’s and Cloud blinks a few times and then is like: oh. Friend? Son of Friend? Okay. My Mist now.

Everything gets more chaotic from there with Cloud casually picking up Soldier and Turk Flames left and right without anyone able to stop him because his Cloud is Vincent and his Mist is SEPHIROTH.

...

Cloud is a not a strong baby when he is born. He is not a healthy one. He is small and fragile and Nibelheim is not kind.

But Cloud’s mother remembers the Old Things and she is desperate and stubborn. So when other mothers would have just accepted the doctor’s grim declaration that Cloud would likely not last to his third month of life, Claudia wrapped him up in every warm layer she could and sets off up the mountain.

She finds the mako spring up there and kneels before it and begs. Begs any who would listen to please, save her child, lend him strength.

The Lifestream hears the cries of a mother, the thready life of a soul that could-be-has-been-one-was their champion in a hundred-thousand other timelines and takes pity. Light reaches up and curls around the whimpering child and a hundred-thousand voices sing softly of healing and Blessing. But such things are not free, and since Claudia is not the one to receive the healing, she is not the one who pays the price (and it is not fair, to make a child pay for the plea of the parent, but the Lifestream is not fair, it just Is, and this is how it has always claimed its dues). Cloud takes a breath and wails, strong and loud in a way he has never been before and Claudia weeps with relief.

She weeps again, later, when she realizes her son’s eyes do not track her movement. When she realizes that he is blind.

(He is not really blind, they learn later, he just sees too much. His gaze is always locked on the future, and every time he opens his eyes he sees a thousand pathways to what-might-be-what-could-be-what-needs-be. He sees people and places, tragedies and joys, laughter and tears and fates not yet woven into place. With all that to look at, is it any wonder he cannot process the present that is right in front of him? It is already a wonder he does not go mad in his first years of life).

Claudia learns to hide Cloud’s eyes and help with his blindness, and Cloud learns to not open his eyes even while awake if he does not want to lose himself. But even with his eyes shut, things whisper behind his eyelids. Not the far future and all its possibilities, but just the near future, the split second decisions that his mind can see minutes ahead of time and choose between. It makes him light on his feet and strange in his words and deeds. The townspeople think he’s Off and they do not like their children playing with him (though some, like Tifa, play with him anyway).

Cloud warns Tifa not to go up the mountain after her mother dies, but she does not listen. He follows her up and tears slide past his closed eyelids as he runs. He is just in time to banish the paths that end in Tifa sprawled out at the base of the high mountainside with a shattered neck. He grabs her hand and brings her back home, but the townsfolk do not like him. They blame him. They tell him to stay away. And Cloud opens his eyes for just a moment when the voices get too close and sees a rush of near-far-unlikely-likely and he cannot tell which it is when he sees paths that lead to the townsfolk hurting him and so he runs away. He slams his eyes shut because he cannot flee if he is too far in the future to remember how to run, but even so the Lifestream curls and twists around him and for a moment, one unlikely path rises to the surface and Cloud SEES.

A friend.

A father.

He turns and instead of running home, he runs for the old Shinra mansion.

He almost dies to the monsters, but his instincts are sharp even with his eyes shut, and though he has never SEEN the world like regular people do, he knows where he is going as he runs down the stairs and flings himself down into the room of coffins with half a dozen monsters on his heels. He crashes against the side of one and screams, “Vincent, help!” and in his voice the Lifestream echoes and yanks and demands just like it does those rare times he opens his mouth and frightens his mother with the disjointed prophecies of Future that spill out.

Chaos roars in Vincent’s head, driving him up and out of his coffin to protect the Little Seer and when Vincent next blinks, he’s standing for the first time in years, there are monsters dead at his feet, and a child sobbing in terror against his leg.

Vincent is confused.

He looks down at the child sobbing past closed eyes and ... doesn’t know what to do. If it were an adult he wouldn’t care, but this is a little KID. Who somehow knew his name. Vincent crouches and forces his rusty voice to ask, “Who are you? What are you doing down here?”

“I came to f-find you,” sobs the child.

“How did you know I was here?”

The child sniffles, clinging to the fabric of Vincent’s cloak and opens his mouth.

The Lifestream’s prophecy spills out “Mourner in Red with no son of his own. Sleeper in Guilt while the world falls to ruin will always awaken and follow when the Cloud calls covers his coffin.” The boy’s mouth snaps shut a moment later with a strangled sound, like he’s choking on more words, and Vincent is an Alarm.

No child says things like that normally. No child SOUNDS like that. Like he is both normal yet not, like when he speaks the world is whispering alongside and giving it an echo of thunder. Chaos stirs in his head, but instead of trying to take over, it just laughs, dark and old and bloody, “So a new seer has been chosen,” it sneers, “I thought Minerva would cease that practice after the death of the last ones.”

Last ones? Vincent thinks uneasily at the more talkative of the monsters in his head.

“People are fickle creatures. Every seer that has lived is either scorned and disbelieved, or revered and isolated. They are either shams or gods in the eyes of other mortals, and their wisdom is both rejected and clung to. With a connection as strong as his that it takes his normal sight, he will either be forced to speak of the futures people desire and then be killed when a different future comes to pass, or he will be shunned and locked away by ‘wiser’ minds who deem him mad.”

Vincent can feel his insides turn cold. And it shouldn’t matter. He is too broken to help in such things and yet-.

The child knew him.

The child knew his name, trusted whatever he saw in the futures unwritten that he came to Vincent for help.

Just long enough to get him home, Vincent promises himself as he awkwardly picks up the child and carries him out of the mansion and into the town. Then I will return.

Except the boy’s mother finds him and she cries in relief and somehow her tears of thanks lead to dragging him home because the boy refuses to let go of him and the woman (Claudia) is very kind and the boy is clingy and the food is warm and-.

And somehow. Despite all his intentions. Vincent stays.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #FFVII #Seer!Cloud #Sky!Cloud

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misskittysmagicportal · 3 years

Text

The Dog Days Are Over

Nathan Young kinda fluff. Safe for work other than a word or two. Takes place a few years after the events of “Vegas Baby”

Nathan leaned with one elbow against the makeshift bar to the side of the dancefloor. A look of minor drunken denial on his face and a self-filling champagne flute in his left hand. He watched as Louise and her new husband, the one and only Jeremy, saw only each other as they swayed to “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac. Had to admit his mum had never been as happy as she was at this moment.

You made your way through the guests to stand beside Nathan. The last time you saw each other was somewhere between the end of his ASBO and when he met Marnie. A twinge of jealousy ran through your body as you ordered a whiskey sour loud enough for him to hear.

“Nathan?” you feigned shock.

He raised his glass, “Fucking brilliant! Was trying to figure out who I was gonna give the toss about tonight.”

You rolled your eyes but blushed at the same time, “Remains to be seen. I see you wore high tops to Lou’s wedding.”

Nathan tossed back the golden liquid and manifested more,“Figured tops and tails was a bit much. Didn’t want to outshine the man Mum lives with. I know you fancy what I threw together right?” he slowly ran his hand over the length of a lithe body outfitted in a white dress shirt, a blue and green tartan vest and black skinny jeans.

The fire reached your ears as you followed his movement downwards, but then you remembered yourself. “I honestly didn’t even know you could grow facial hair,” you retorted with a soft shrug.

Without a second thought, Nathan snapped his fingers and it was gone. Goatee, mustache, poof! Clean shaven. Your eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “Better?” his eyebrow cocked.

“How.. I thought you were immortal,” you mocked his accent playfully.

“C’mon why have just ONE A list power when you can have two?” he snapped his fingers again to regrow the mustache and beard. “Magics aside, how’ve you been, love?” His green eyes never left the couple on the dance floor.

“Well I finished my degree and I work for a book publisher now. Shocking, I know. People actually still read books despite Kindles and Nooks. How about you?” you matched his laissez faire position. Your legs crossed at the ankles as you leaned back against the bar, the hem of your dress rode up in the process.

This time Nathan turned to look directly in your eyes. “Meat group in a prison cell.”

You glanced heavewards with slight confusion, “Oh bullshit! You were there what? Two weeks tops before they deported you.”

“FINE! Just a bit of a dessert,” he winked and swiveled his hips a bit. “Honing my magic tricks though. Quite good at it now if you haven’t noticed. Ten quid I can make that dress disappear,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

Your heart started to pound in your ear, but you faced him. Your nose and his just a breadth away from one another. “Like Marnie did?”

Nathan grabbed his chest dramatically, “Low blow sweetheart. Was thinking more like my cock inside you.” He took one last swig of the champagne and slammed the glass down. He turned to you, grabbed your face and pulled you into an awkward and sloppy kiss. His tongue pushing inside your mouth briefly before he broke away and staggered backwards. Then Nathan hooked his thumbs through the sides of his vest, eyes ablaze with mischief “Pardon me, but I have a speech to make.”

You were dizzy with excitement, the blood had rushed to areas that you were convinced others would notice. Yet not one set of eyes were on you, only Nathan who now stood directly in the center of the room between Louise and Jeremy. They had somewhere between worry and terror in their eyes.

Nathan’s hands were raised with palms outwards towards the guests. He swayed slightly before another snap of his fingers. The room, the guests, even the music all halted. The room became eerily quiet except the sounds of breathing. Louise and Jeremy seemed rooted to their very spots. You watched as a slow smirk spread across Nathan’s lips as he waved his hands a bit as if he was dismissing servants. The crowd gasped as full glasses appeared suddenly in their hands out of nowhere. Not just of liquor, but all together. Where people weren’t holding them before.

“Dearly beloved!” Nathan slurred. “You have all gathered here today to celebrate the union of my Mum and the guy she lives with.” A pregnant pause. “Now as you all may or may not know, Louise here. My darling Mummy. I do love you, you know. You did put aside so much of your life to raise me. I was, to put it so bluntly, a right little cunt.”

You narrowed your eyes from the sidelines. The blood pumped deafeningly in your ears as you held your face in your hands. All eyes were transfixed on your ex lover as he continued whether they had a choice or not.

Nathan’s index finger swung around precariously in a circle. “I mean you have told your mates here about Jezza’s little secret right? All of your friends that showed up at my funeral. The friends you told I was on Holidays in America when you heard I went to jail, right Louise? You love me, in your own way I suppose. Your little embarrassment. Your grown adult embarrassment now.”

You gawked as Louise went to speak, to stop her son, but nothing could escape her lips. You rushed forward and into the center of everything to take Nathan’s free hand in your own. “There’s no reason to do this? Not today. Please?” You plead with him as you pressed your hand to his cheek.

Nathan leaned into it for just a moment, eyes closed and body relaxed. Time stopped, everything stopped. A spotlight on just you and he in the midst of hundreds of eyes. You wrap your arms around each other in a hug, his hands with a mind of their own move over the curves of your backside in front of everyone. His chin comes to rest on your head as you bury your face in his chest.

“Let’s go,’ you looked up at him as you clutched the lapel of his shirt. “C’mon. Fancy a shag? For old time’s sake. I’ll do that thing you like.”

Nathan cocked an eyebrow; his eyes bored into you. “All fours?”

You nodded, finally realizing there was an actual bubble around the two of you out on the floor. A legit cone of silence that blocked you and here from the now lively wedding all around. As if a spell had been broken as long as the two of you were together.

Nathan smiled wickedly and covered your mouth with his in a passionate kiss. Tongue forcing inside of your mouth again as he squeezed your backside. He started to grind his hips into yours, a slight erection inside of his pants.

“I just have to do one more thing.”

You sighed, smiling and pulled at your lip where he had just been. “Ok” you were drunk with desire. Ignorant of what was about to happen and the illusion he had constructed while you were in the bubble.

The silence was deafening once more as you gasped. Now the world froze except for you and Nathan. His arm tight around your waist. The guests unmoving like mannequins, glossed eyes.

“It does make some part of me happy to know that dog is truly a woman's best friend,” his speech picked up where he had left off. As if not one second had skipped between his admonishment of Louise and this very moment. “And Louise darling, you certainly did pick a dog!”

Just like that, Nathan’s large hand grabbed yours and he snapped his fingers one more time. To your utter disbelief Jeremy morphed into a Jack Russell terrier right in front of your eyes. In pops across the crowd men turned one by one into various types of dogs. Louise and the women all screamed in shock.

But you couldn’t even wrap your brain around what was happening as Nathan broke into a run as you trailed behind struggling to keep up in your heels. His laughter maniacal but also catching and you couldn’t help but join in.

“I always hated fucking weddings”

#robert sheehan #nathan young #misfits #just a bit of chaos #some fun

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travellvogue · 4 years

Text

A Modern Day Romance- Jadon Sancho

thank you anon for the idea, sorry for making you wait so long, hopefully 2.3k words of smut can make up for it ;)

“Absolutely not” you scoff at the suggestion, scuffing your feet against the cream carpet in the office, an odd choice, you’d have expected dark oak floors to match the furniture, but it made sense to have an office that was a mess when you were dealing with a boy who was equally as big of a mess.

“It’ll only be for six months, then we’ll fake the breakup, and you can both move on with your lives” you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing, the whole idea of being part of a fake relationship to paint a perfect picture for the other person was ridiculous to you. You thought this only happened in One Direction Wattpad fanfictions you’d read as a pre-teen, who knows maybe they’ll ask your mum to sell you off for his sexual benefits as well.

You’ve never liked him, never have, certainly never will. He oozes a charm that was so artificial it made your whole body tingle with disgust.

You sit and think, the silence letting your mind walk down the paths of every outcome and opportunity, admittedly the idea of even breathing the same air made your stomach turn, but if you were to benefit from it then maybe you could comprise. “Pay me” you simply shrug, head tilting to the side as you watch their reactions, in shock that they were shocked by your demand. “What?- Did you expect me to be his bloody sex therapist for free?” you laugh at the idea of them expecting you to do it out of the kindness of your own heart.

Despite your reluctance, an agreement was reached, your weekly income is one anyone would be happy with. The job however was going to be the task. You’d move into his house this time next week and from there you were stuck for six long months. He had been given your number, you were made aware of that almost straight away, receiving a text from him as soon as you arrived home.

‘Hi girlfriend ;)’

Were you expected to laugh? You could almost taste the sick that had risen to your throat, even reading the word ‘girlfriend’ made you want to rewind the clock and tear up the contract into thousands of tiny pieces, hold up a middle finger and tell them to ‘do one’

Yet here you were, a week later, cardboard boxes of belongings laying around his lavish house, you felt- and quite frankly looked- out of place, this wasn’t where you wanted to be for the next six months, however gorgeous the five bedroom mansion in the middle of London was, this was his home, not yours. It never will be, no matter how many times he teasingly cheers ‘welcome home!!’ this place is simply an office for you.

“Alright… where you planning on sleeping?” he smirks, the question clearly having a deeper meaning, he wanted you in his bed- he didn’t bother to hide that. He considered himself lucky having such a gorgeous girl play pretend girlfriend for him.

“In the spare room, away from you” you spit, his eyebrows raising at your tone. Feisty, he liked it. He’d learnt quickly that you weren’t like the other girls, you didn’t drop to your knees for him at the first sentence he spoke, you walked around the house oozing confidence and independence, something he never knew could be so attractive… and sexy. Letting himself get carried away in the thought of you simply wasn’t allowed, this was business, and unfortunately he can’t mix business with pleasure.

It was a painful first month, he hadn’t changed at all, your job seemed useless once the doors were closed, his image to the public had been shined and polished, but he was still the same Jadon, bringing a different girl home every night, kicking them out flippantly the next morning. Tonight was no different.

You laid awake, wishing you didn’t share a wall with him because it sounded as though it was going to cave in at the rate that his headboard was banging against it. His moans were audible throughout the house… and so were hers, whoever she was. Closing your eyes didn’t help either, the noises too loud to even think of getting some sleep. Instead you find your hand slipping down your body, you knew it was wrong, getting off to the sound of him fucking another girl, but the noise of his grunts and moans had your clit tingling for some attention.

“Fuck good girl” you hear him growl, picturing him on top of you, cock slick with pre-cum as he sinks into you, stretching your walls around his impressive length… you only knew such a detail because he’d left his ensuite door open once, which of course would have to be the day you walked into his bedroom looking for him. The image stays in your brain as you rub vigorously at your clit, hips bucking at the sound of his continuous moans. You let out a moan, loud enough to make you cover your mouth with your spare hand, wishing it was his palm gagging you, the thrill of knowing you really shouldn’t be getting off to the moans of a boy you claimed to hate made your cheeks flush a deep pink. Legs twitching uncontrollably as you approach your high, hearing him reach his own. “Fuck Jadon!” you gasp, the hand that was covering your mouth (and your dignity) now clamping tightly at the bedsheets, body spasming as your orgasm takes over, laying breathless on the bed as you regain a steady heartbeat. the banging of the headboard coming to a stop as you listen to his voice, wondering how you’ll sleep after the embarrassment of getting off to the moans of your enemy.

---

“Morning” you hear a female voice enter the kitchen, you and Jadon already busy yourself, an awkward silence to the room, like the two of you were walking on eggshells around each other. She freezes as she sees you, giving you a look of fright, as though she’d been caught as the mistress in a relationship.

“It’s fine... we’re just friends” you tell her with no sign of sympathy, a coldness to your tone which makes the atmosphere uncomfortable, busying yourself as you make a cup of tea next to Jadon who was making himself some toast, no concern for the stranger who was still in his house. Brushing her off and letting her show herself out of the house, watching him as he gives no second thought to the stranger in his house.

“Friends huh?” you can sense the smugness in the way he butters his toast, smirking down at it as if it had made a joke.

“What else was I meant to tell the poor girl?!” you hiss, the metal spoon clinking furiously against the side of your mug as you stir your tea, “that; I’m hear you ensure he doesn’t bring home girls like you everyday” your tone is high pitched and mockfull. His smirk drops.

“That I’m your little babysitter, cose someone doesn’t know how to treat women with fucking. respect. and. understand. people. want. to. SLEEP''

He stares at you, the silence making you wonder if you should be the one to speak first. Of course in your fluster of temper you were referring to yourself, your sleepless night laid awake staring at a blank ceiling whilst listening to another girl moan his name- only to know her fate in the morning- really had ripped the filter from your mouth- exhaustion meaning you no longer knew how to hold back.

“Alright, chill out” he laughs it off, just like he did with everything else. The same hurt laugh he’d mustered up when his management insisted this whole ‘fake girlfriend’ saga needed to happen to ensure his image was dampened from his teenage boy antics. Truthfully it was a blow to the ego, he thought with such money and fame the world would come easy to him, but you arrived with a collar and lead to put him under control. Admittedly the control was quite sexy, you were powerful, he’d never met a woman like you before- maybe you were what he needed.

Your tea was cold by the time you started drinking it, the bitter taste still somehow burning at your tongue as you realise in the heat of your meltdown you’d forgotten to add your usual teaspoon of sugar.

“Y’know…” you jump at the sound of his voice, expecting him to avoid you for the rest of the day after biting his head off, a droplet of tea splashing onto your hand. Eyes following him intently as he comes to sit on the end of your bed, finger tracing the silver hemming of the mattress. “I didn’t think you’d be so mad at me after last night” he shrugs effortlessly, a confidence in his eyes that makes your stomach tighten. You’re confused as to how you wouldn’t be annoyed, laid awake listening to him bring home another girl, the same routine you’d grown used to after the past few weeks.

“Yeah waking up to another stranger in the house isn’t annoying at all” you spit, kicking your foot under the bed sheets to try and get rid of him. He looks up at you, a smug aura to his stare.

“Didn’t sound too annoyed when you were moaning my name” you freeze, the casual confidence in his voice makes your throat close up, stuck for what to say, how to defend yourself. He’d heard you- the look in his eyes told you he’d heard every, single, thing.

You can feel yourself growing flushed, cheeks burning as an instant reaction, trying to register the embarrassment of the whole situation.

“Bet your cheeks were that red last night as well” he winks, hands pushing the bed covers off your legs, giving him access to trace patterns up and down your skin whilst you watch this intently, not wanting to make any leaps to where you think this might be going. You hardly have time to think, his fingers inching up your legs until they rest at the hem of your pyjama shorts- the ones he has to force himself to peel his eyes away from whenever you wear them because they show the bottom part of your bum which drives him insane. He pauses, looks up at you for consent, watching you nod gently before he pushes his hand under the material, cupping your pussy, feeling a damp patch on your knickers, clearly he’d had more of an effect on you then he’d thought. “Wet for daddy huh?” the nickname doesn’t even faze you, you’d fallen asleep to the sound of him demanding random girls call him name. The sudden thought of him with other girls whilst his hands were in your pants was unsettling, yet you still find yourself whimpering a pathetic ‘please’ while watching him smirk at your desperation. “Tell me” the instructions come effortlessly to him, he’d wanted to be in this position the day you became his ‘girlfriend’.

“Please J, I need you… please” yuor begs and whimpers mean his body is hovering over yours in no time, clothes flung across the room, admiring your naked bodies, his impressive length taking you by surprise, you’d always expected his bragging and confidence was a way of making up for what he lacked in other departments, evidently you were you wrong.

He slipped in effortlessly, your arousal making it easy for him, smirking confidently at the moan you release instantly, craving the sensation of your pussy wrapping around his length. Your nails instantly embed themselves into his shoulder muscles, dragging downwards on their journey to his lower back with each thrust, moans growing louder as your grip on his skin tightens, feeling his throbbing head tap at the perfect spot inside of you, legs growing weak with pleasure, sucking marks into his neck that would make an appearance tomorrow to remind you of the fun you’d had.

“Fuck sake why didn’t we do this sooner” you can’t help but agree with his question, the nights you laid awake listening to his moans wishing it was your name falling from his mouth, his cock in your pussy, his lips on yours. Eventually it was bound to end up like this, you couldn’t even complain, not when he was making you feel this good. The clenching of your tight wet walls around his cock confirmed that. The way his balls would slap against your skin told you he was craving more, desperate to fill you with his cum.

“Make me cum” you spit in the midst of your moans, both of you aware that neither of you could last much longer after the months of pent up sexual frustration.

Moans, sweat, squeals, whimpers. His body stilling and yours jolting in pleasure. Certainly your nails have drawn blood from how hard you gripped hold of him, pussy stuffed with four long spurts of his cum. Breathlessly pulling out of you, watching the view of his seed dripping from your hole. Scooping the remnants up with his index finger, your mouth opening before he’d even moved his hand. “Good girl” he winks, finger placed delicately on your tongue, watching you skillfully suckle on his finger to clean him.

You watched him bounce off you, chest still pumping in and out as he tries to catch his breath, pulling his boxers up to cover himself, t-shirt flung over his shoulder and a sly smirk on his face. Your eyes met for what felt like an eternity, you don’t know whether you were begging him to stay or screaming for him to leave. Your head was clouded with an emotion you’d never felt before.

“See you around” he winks without a second thought. Guess a leopard never changes its spots.

#jadon sancho #jadon sancho imagines #jadon sancho one shot #jadon sancho smut #jadon sancho blurb #masterlist #bvb dortmund #england nt

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shireness-says · 4 years

Text

You’re Always 16 Hours Ahead

Summary: Killian Jones never expected to hit it big, but the opportunity of a lifetime pulls him away from home and the woman he pines for. Can a friendship that just might be more survive a concert world tour?

(With wide eyes and faith

That life could never pull us apart if we were ok

But distance kills the best of intentions…)

(~2.6K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3)

~~~~~

A/N: I’m so excited to share my contribution to the @csconcertseries! This is an idea I’ve had for a long time, and I’m excited to finally bring it to life. This is inspired by “Jet Lag” by Frank Turner, and also includes references to “Polaroid Picture,” “Get Better,” and “Plain Sailing Weather.” I’ve definitely been blasting his stuff all month long and dragging other people with me (looking at you, @thejollyroger-writer). Super thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan for her beta talents.

Without further ado: Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

POP PRINCESS ANNOUNCES WORLD TOUR

Great news, Fairy Fans: Wildly popular pop music star Tink is planning a world tour. The international exhibition will be undertaken to promote her latest album, “Neverland No More”. Tink will be joined on her tour by recent up-and-comer Killian Jones, who will serve as her opening act. Jones has captured the world’s ear with his recent hit single, “Green Eyes,” which continues to climb the pop charts. A full schedule of planned concerts can be found at…

September 17th

Dear Emma,

I know it’s only been a few days, but I already miss you and Henry. Los Angeles is loud, and congested, and so much unlike Storybrooke that it scares me a little. But when that happens, I try to remember our bench on the docks, and it helps ground me. I’ve got a picture of us out there taped to the inside of my guitar case, just as a reminder that even if everything changes, I’ve always got something to come home to.

You didn’t think I was kidding when I said I’d write, did you? Mark my words, I intend to write you from every stop. To hell with blocking or setup or rehearsals or whatever, I’ll be sitting on an amp backstage writing you.

You must tell me everything, Swan - don’t you dare get skimpy with the details in your next email! I know it’s been less than a week, but I’m sure there’s something from the gossip mill. Has Liam secured a new Friday act yet? I’m sure he won’t find anyone nearly as talented (or handsome!) as yours truly, but I can’t imagine he and Robin are leaving that slot open in my honor. Tell me, how much do you think he’ll groan if I send back a signed world tour poster?

I’ve got to go - something about the lights. Such is the life of a rock star, isn’t it?

Your own personal celebrity (and best friend),

-Killian

September 19th

Liam -

Brother, you’ve got to stop calling every few hours. I know you’re bored and your life is empty without me, but this is getting ridiculous. Half the road crew thinks you’re my father. Do you intend to run up your phone bill when the tour crosses the ocean? I love you, but please don’t go broke on my behalf. Now is the time to wean yourself off me.

All teasing aside, I do appreciate the calls, not to mention everything else. If you hadn’t insisted on making those demo tapes and forcing me to Boston and any venue or bar that would take me, I wouldn’t be here today.

You’d have been so proud to see me - I must have been sweating gallons, but I got up on stage in front of that massive crowd and I did it, sang my pieces. The noise of all those people practically shakes your bones, Liam - and that wasn’t even half the noise that Tink elicited! I don’t know how she does it. I suppose I’ll find out, though, won’t I? After all, this is my big break, as long as I don’t screw it up too badly.

I’m sure I’ll talk to you later - in the meantime, say hello to the lads for me.

-Killian.

P.S. Keep an eye on Emma and Henry for me, would you? I know you’ve already promised, but I worry. I owe you one, brother.

October 2nd

Emma -

Hello from Seattle! It is just as rainy as promised, and I’ve lost count of the coffee shops. Part of that might be the Starbucks, though. I swear, they’re like a plague, popping up all over the place.

The tour is still going well. I might even get used to this tour bus life! I miss you all, of course - my love especially to Henry - but it’s exhilarating, getting up on stage every night in front of so many people. The crowds are huge, Swan, larger than I ever could have imagined. I know they’re mostly here for Tink, but there’s always applause and a handful of people singing along to my songs, and it’s the best kind of adrenaline. Leaves me with an itch in my fingers and a new song stuck in my head. I’ll work it out later.

I’m so happy to hear that Henry is doing so well in kindergarten; he’s always been a little social butterfly. I’ll bet that he makes tons of friends; I’m glad he loves it so far. I’ll call soon, I promise.

Yours,

-Killian

October 20th

Swan -

Happy Birthday, darling! Technically, I’m mailing this a few days early, but I hope it’ll reach you just in time. I’m sorry to be missing the festivities this year - just know that I’ll be thinking of you all day, wishing I was there to celebrate with you. Keep an eye out for a package or two - and before you even try to protest that I don’t need to, they’re just little things, love. Stuff that made me think of you. Tokens of my affection, if you will. It’s your birthday, anyways - live a little! Let us spoil you for once.

Texas is… less than impressive. Large? Yes, in a way that feels almost performative. It’s missing some kind of charm, at least to me. Then again, I’ve never been much for cowboy hats; maybe that’s the real problem, here. Regardless, I’d gladly take the northeast fall colors any day.

Make a good wish, alright? I hope the year to come is as wonderful as you are.

Yours,

-Killian

November 26th

Dear Henry -

Happy Thanksgiving! Did you have a good holiday? Did Granny make enough macaroni and cheese for you to eat your fill? I know that’s your favorite.

Thank you for watching the parade! I was really excited to be in it too. Sadly, the powers that be wouldn’t let me take home the Snoopy balloon for you, but I did manage to get a couple of handfuls of confetti for you. It should be inside this envelope. You would have loved it, Henry - the confetti was flying everywhere and I saw so many really cool floats up close and personal. We’ll maybe have to go together in a couple of years, aye? We’ll ask your mum.

Draw lots and lots of turkeys for me, little mate - I know you’re really good at that. And give your mum and Liam a great big hug for me!

Love,

-Killian

CELEBRITY FILE EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH EVERYONE’S NEW FAVORITE HEARTTHROB - KILLIAN JONES

… In researching this piece, I heard over and over about how personal Jones’ lyrics were, how well they captured every feeling and variation of being in love. Every fan out there seems to feel like his words are written just for them, like a window into their soul. So when I finally met with the man himself, I couldn’t help but ask: Was there anyone who inspired such lyrical devotion? Some woman - or man! - in his own life who inspired such moving words?

“You know, the thing I’ve always liked in listening to music on my own is being able to recognize a little bit of myself in someone else’s words,” Jones told me in response to the question. “It always made me feel a little less alone - a little more connected to other people, I guess, to hear that they experienced or saw things the same way I do. It’s very rewarding to hear that people feel the same way about my music. I’m of the opinion that music should be a universal experience, and when I write, I write words that I hope other people can see a bit of themselves in.”

Something about that blush and the nervous scratch behind his ear that fans know so well tells me he’s holding out on us…

December 11th

Dearest Swan -

The holidays have crept right up on us, haven’t they? Do us both the favor of imagining me singing that sickly-sweet “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” nonsense, because it’s true. December 20th. Mark your calendar, and don’t blame me if I fall asleep on the car ride home from the airport. It’s all this travel, you see - takes it right out of you. You can’t blame a man for that, love.

(Also, please ignore that I’ll be flying in from Chicago. I still plan to claim jet lag. That one hour difference, love, it’s a real killer.)

Is there anything in particular that Henry especially wants this year? I’ve done my best to pick up things for you and Liam and everyone else, but I know the lad’s tastes change practically hour to hour, and he’s probably got a whole list stashed somewhere. I want to get him something he’ll really like instead of just wandering through the toy store in a panic, if at all possible.

Counting the hours until I see you again,

-Killian

January 8th

Emma -

I don’t even know where to start. How can I properly apologize for what happened at New Year’s? I struggle, because I can’t truthfully say that I regret it. I don’t think I’ve made it a secret all these years that I’m helplessly enthralled by you and everything you are. There are words - big words, three words - that rattle around in my heart every day, but I know you’re not willing to hear them yet. I’ll be here, love, whenever you’re ready.

I know you’re scared, Emma, but I’m begging you - just talk to me. We can forget all about this, if that’s what you want, but you’ve got to talk to me. Every day I don’t hear from you is just a little bit harder. I’ll follow your lead, whatever you say.

You’ll always be my best friend, Swan - no matter what else happens.

-Killian

January 20th

I kissed her, Liam.

I’m sorry; that’s not much of a way to start a letter is it? How are you? Everything going well?

But I’m sorry, I’ve got to talk about this and get it off my chest. Because I kissed her, Liam. Emma. I kissed Emma. And then it kind of… all went to shit. I guess that’s just like me, isn’t it? Give me one fine day of plain sailing weather, and I can turn it to stormy seas.

And I know where she’s coming from, really - I know better than almost anyone about how she’s been left behind too many times. As much as it hurts to have this sudden radio silence, I know she’s just trying to protect herself. But I love her, Liam. I’ve loved her forever. This isn’t just “distance makes the heart grow fonder,” or something stupid like that. I should have acted a long time ago. I should have done a thousand different things, but here we are.

If you have any ideas of how to fix this, please, let me know. I hope you’re having a happier new year than I so far.

-Killian

February 2nd

Dear Emma -

I can’t tell you how good it was to hear from you the other day. You may think that there’s nothing interesting about all the goings-on in the bar, but that particular kind of nothing is soothing. It’s like a little piece of home in every email. Besides, I know that the bar is never quite as boring as we always joked. And I’d welcome any word from you anyways, after how much I’ve missed you.

We’re in Paris right now. It’s gorgeous, truly - I’ll have to bring you and the lad back sometime. I know you’d call me a nerd, but I’ve been hitting museums - the Louvre, the Musee d’Orsay, the Rodin museum, etc. I made sure to do the Eiffel Tower too, just for you, even though the crowds were utterly terrible. Stuffed my face with pastries too, all on your behalf.

(Okay, you caught me, Swan - the pastries are for me too. The croissants, Swan! The bread! I surely won’t fit in my trousers if we’re here any longer, but I can’t regret it. I swear, I’d ship some back to you if I thought they’d survive the trip.)

We’ll have to schedule time for a call home soon - I find myself so often longing for your voice. I love your emails, but there’s something to a phone call that can’t be replaced.

Yours,

-Killian

March 11th

Dear Henry -

Thank you for sending me that drawing! I love it. It’s taped to the inside of my guitar case now, where I can look at it every day. I especially like the yellow you used for your mum’s hair. You’ll have to thank her for scanning that for us on my behalf. That’s good form, you know.

I’m in Amsterdam right now. Your mum or Liam can show you where that is on a map; it’s in Western Europe. I went someplace I think you’d love today; it’s called Madurodam. It’s this entire miniature city, with little airplanes and zoo animals and everything. I had a lot of fun exploring it, and I think you would too.

A graduation, you say? From kindergarten? I wouldn’t miss it for the world, lad. I’ll be home, no matter what.

I miss you, Henry, and your mother too. It always brightens my day to see an email from you.

Sealed with a great big hug,

-Killian

April 21st

Emma -

London is rainy and cold. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything different, but here I am, surprised all the same. It’s hard to convince myself to go do any of the tourist-y things when the weather is like this, so I’m stuck inside, writing to you. Not that that’s ever a hardship...

You’d hardly recognize me with this get-up I’ve found myself in for the show tonight - the heavy eyeliner especially. Gone are the days of some beat-up tee - though I think you might like the vest. Getting dressed feels like slipping into some other persona. I worry a lot of the time about whether I’ve changed beyond recognition, or if I’m still the same person you know. That’s the man I want to be, you know - someone you can be proud of, but somehow still that same poor bastard in the bar, just trying to write words that mean something. I hope I am. But you know how it goes - distance kills the best of intentions.

I miss you terribly, Swan, and Henry too. Hell, even Liam. These letters are all that ground me some days, I fear. On the loneliest nights, I reread your emails and imagine you’re talking to me instead. It’s always just a too-brief daydream, unfortunately.

I’ve grown rather maudlin, haven’t I? That won’t do at all. I blame it on the rain. Here’s a happier note for us both: I’ll be home late next month. Perhaps I’ll have to make one of those paper chains Henry’s so fond of; if I do, I’ll include a picture with my next letter.

Counting the days. Until then -

Love, Killian

May 17th

My Swan -

By the time you get this, I’ll be home with you and the lad again, and hopefully have already told you in person everything I want to say now:

I love you, Emma. Every word of every song is for you. I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you, and no time or distance or groupie is ever going to change that. I’m yours, love, body and soul. And I have faith that life can never tear us apart as long as that’s true.

I’m coming home, love. And my home is you.

Yours (in every sense),

-Killian

BREAKING NEWS: KILLIAN JONES’ SECRET LOVER?

Bad news for all the fangirls and Killy-Tink shippers out there: Bad boy popstar Killian Jones appears to be off the market. The singer, 27, was spotted locking lips with an unidentified blonde at the Storybrooke Memorial Gardens, just outside of Boston, where Jones calls home. Sources have long speculated that Jones has a secret girlfriend back home, and this just might be confirmation. Check back as this story continues to develop. StarWatchOnline remains YOUR #1 celebrity news site…

~~~~~

Tagging: @snowbellewells, @profdanglaisstuff, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ohmightydevviepuu, @optomisticgirl, @spartanguard, @thisonesatellite, @let-it-raines, @scientificapricot, @searchingwardrobes

#cs ff #captain swan ff #cs concert series #Captain Swan #You're Always 16 Hours Ahead #epistolary fic #rockstar!Killian

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goldenpinof · 5 years

Text

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Written In The Stars IV (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)

A/N: Next to writing in another language, writing Hagrid’s dialogues is a nightmare. So, I just did it as little as possible though I love him so much.

Words: 2,449

Warnings: None!

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Chapter Four: Rubeus Hagrid.

The next days were horrid, it had been years since she had felt so powerless, locked in her house with no one to play, even worse, knowing Harry had been kidnapped by the Dursleys. Her mum was anxious too, but she was better at hiding it. From time to time she would go over to the window and look around, Mel knew she was looking for an owl.

Then, on the evening of the second day, a loud bang on the door made them jump from their seats. Emily stood up and opened the door, gasping at the sight in front of her.

"Hagrid, what are you doing here?" A man, taller than anyone she'd ever known, was standing in the doorway, hair rustled and beard long and messy.

"Dumbledore," He said in a deep, rusty voice, "sent me"

"Why?" The woman asked, "Harry's not here!"

"He thought that Mel might wan' to come!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

His eyes looked around the room and landed on the little girl, hiding behind the sofa.

"Well look at yeh, Mel!" He laughed, "Look at yeh! Yeh've grown!"

"Do I know you?" She asked.

"He saw you when you were a baby," Her mother moved away from the door so he could come in, looking more tired than before, "he's an old friend"

"Oh," She said, standing up from the sofa, "nice to meet you, uh..."

"Rubeus Hagrid," The man walked up to her with heavy steps that made the whole house tremble, "keeper of keys in Hogwarts, bet yeh know about tha' now"

"I know about Hogwarts," Mel nodded, pleased to recognize the name.

"Hagrid," Emily closed the door, "I'm sorry, but did you just say that you're here to take Mel?"

"If yeh allow," Hagrid smiled, putting his hands inside his coat, "if not, I still wanted to deliver this to dear ol' Mel. Yeh turned eleven this month, don' think I forgot!"

He handed her a box filled with strange candies that she couldn't wait to eat.

"Can I go?" She asked her mother, "I promised Harry I would help!"

"I... I don't know," Emily looked over to Hagrid, "you know where Harry is?"

"Yes," He nodded, "we'll be there in no time"

"You have to be careful," She replied, "please Hagrid, the kids..."

"Dumbledore trust me," He made a careless movement with his hand that almost knocked off the lamp, "yeh'll have yer daughter back safe an' soun"

"I'll be good, I promise," Mel jumped, holding tightly to her mother's wrist, "Please?"

"I'll have to talk with Dumbledore one of these days," She huffed, "He keeps forgetting who is your tutor"

"That means I can go?" Mel held her breath.

"Bloody-" Emily groaned in frustration, passing a hand through her hair, "put on your coat and listen to everything Hagrid tells you. If you disobey you won't be going to any fun trips again."

Mel let out a short squeal and hugged her mother.

It was hard to tell exactly what thing impressed her most: Hagrid or his motorcycle. The trip was wonderful, he answered to every question the little girl had on her mind since Dumbledore's visit.

She learned many things that day, not only about the school but about how the wizards and witches behaved, she wanted to know how to act around others, she wanted to be prepared.

"My mum said she kept me away because of the rumors about my father's family," She frowned, "you know those rumors?"

Hagrid groaned.

"What yeh hav' to know Mel, is tha' Dumbledore is one of the most powerful an' bright of al' the wizardin' community. Many folks feel threaten' by it. Yeh should never feel bad abou' the family yeh come from. Not even once."

Mel nodded, although Hagrid hadn't answered her question.

"Yer a lot like Matt," He said after a few minutes had passed, "he always asked questions 'bout everything. Smart ones. He was bright, that one. Yeh have the same look as him and Dumbledore, but those are Em's eyes. Tho' yeh have his smile too"

Mel didn't know how to respond to that. She hadn't seen any pictures of her father, but she felt happy to find out that she was similar to him. A sting of annoyance went through her heart as thinking of all the years she spent away from where she truly belonged.

They got closer to what it seemed a place taken directly from a horror movie.

"Is Harry there?" She asked in disbelief.

"His relatives sure are odd, aren' they?"

"They treat Harry very poorly," Mel shook her head in discontent.

"Do they?" Hagrid frowned, "Would yeh mind telling me more?"

Mel told him everything she knew about the Dursley, watching as the anger grew inside Hagrid.

"We'll fix this al'right," was all he said.

When they landed outside the little cottage, Mel prepared herself for what was about to happen.

"Is midnight," Hagrid said, "Harry just turned eleven"

And without adding to it, he knocked loudly on the door.

'BOOM!'

He knocked again, getting no answer.

He stepped back and said:

"Careful," And knocked down the door.

Mel jumped at the sound of the wood hitting the ground. Hagrid walked in and she followed, holding to his sleeve tightly, drenched from the storm. He lifted the door back in its frame. Mel remained behind his arm, cold, she moved along as he turned to face the Dursleys.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He moved heavily towards the couch, she moved slightly away from his body, looking around. Harry was right in front of them.

As Hagrid forced Dudley to get up by sitting on the sofa, she ran to her friend.

"Harry!" She gave him a tight hug, "I told you I would find you!"

She heard a loud gasp on her right, when she looked up she saw Mrs. Dursley staring at her with wide eyes.

Well, she won't be able to hide her oddness anymore.

"An' here's Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed, "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got your mother's eyes."

Hagrid then had a little discussion with Mr. Dursley that ended up in Hagrid destroying the rifle and calling him names. Petunia Dursley was horrified, she kept mumbling, 'not her, not her...' as if Mel being a witch was the same as having a terminal disease.

"How..?" Harry whispered in stunned wonder.

Mel moved away, so happy that she couldn't stay still.

"He went for me so we could find you."

"Harry," Hagrid had his attention back to them, "A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

Hagrid dug into his coat and pulled a box, this one a bit more damaged than Mel's. Harry took it and opened with trembling hands, inside there was a cake with 'Happy Birthday' written with green icing.

Harry looked up to Hagrid and asked.

"Who are you?"

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Mel was ecstatic, this was really happening! Soon enough Harry would know everything. Hagrid and Harry shook hands (more like Hagrid almost ripped Harry's arm) and then added:

"What about that tea then, eh? I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind"

Mel stifled her laugh with a hand, watching as Hagrid quietly prepared the tea. She crossed her legs and waited patiently, amused at how easily Hagrid could scare the Dursleys. Hagrid passed her and Harry warm sausages and she took one of them, biting into the food with a hunger she didn't even know she had.

"I'm sorry," Said Harry after a moment, "but I still don't really know who you are."

"Call me Hagrid, everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course"

Mel frowned, hadn't Dumbledore told him all the issue with the Dursleys? If not, then Hagrid was in for a treat.

"Er- no" Harry admitted, "sorry"

"Sorry?" Hagrid turned to look at the Dursleys, "it's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learnt it all?"

"All what?" asked her friend innocently.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid stood up suddenly, causing Mel to drop the last bit of her food.

Hagrid was angry, and though he looked pretty scary, Mel had to cover her mouth again to hide her giggles. It wasn't a funny subject, but she couldn't help herself.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid seemed to think it over, going back to Harry, "but yeh must know about yer mum and dad. I mean, they're famous, you're famous."

"What?" He then looked at Mel, "My- my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"

That did take her by surprise, Mel hadn't heard about that specific thing at all.

"I don't know," She replied, "my mum never mentioned..."

"Yeh don't know," Hagrid seemed deeply affected by the news, "yeh don't know... yeh don't know what yeh are?"

"Stop!" Exclaimed Mr. Dursley suddenly.

There were a few screams here and there until Hagrid lost his patience.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," He turned to face the kids, "Harry, yer a wizard."

Mel stopped moving.

Finally.

"I'm a what?" asked Harry.

Things happened fast. Hagrid handed him the letter and he quietly read it, Harry asked about the owl and Hagrid pulled a real, angry-looking owl -Had it been there the whole time?- from one of his pockets, and wrote a little note like her mother had done a few days prior.

Then he went back to the sofa and Mr. Dursley said he wouldn't let Harry go, and well, Hagrid called him something neither Mel or Harry understood.

"A what?" They asked in unison.

"A muggle" Repeated Hagrid.

Muggle. Mel didn't think it was proper to go around calling every non-magical person like that, but she would be more than happy to address the Dursleys as big ol' muggles from now on.

Then things stopped being funny all of a sudden. Mrs Dursley had an outburst and completely confessed every little nagging detail about Lily's (Harry's mum) past. Blown up, she said, was the way she had died.

Mel knew a total of three things about her father so far:

·They had the same smile.

·He was a curious man, always asking smart questions.

·He died thanks to Voldemort.

So when Harry asked what had really happened with his parents, she understood his shook, all his life living in a lie was infuriating. They knew so little about their families it felt like a cruel joke.

Mel didn't feel like laughing anymore.

"But what happened to Vol- sorry, to You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful- Why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back."

"-Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does – but somethin' about you stumped him, all right"

"I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

Hagrid chuckled.

'Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared, or angry?'

Harry shared a look with Mel, who smiled shyly.

"You..?" He didn't finish the question, but he didn't have to.

"I kept it a secret a few days because they asked me to," She assured him, "I didn't know until Dumbledore- he's my uncle, you know- he came into my house and explained it to me. My mum was pissed about it, and they made me promise I wouldn't tell"

"Why?"

"I don't know," She frowned, "I wanted to tell you. I didn't like lying to my best friend."

"You're also a... a witch?"

Mel nodded.

"I would show you my letter, but I left it at home."

Harry looked back at Hagrid, now smiling widely. Hagrid returned the expression.

"See?' said Hagrid, "Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts. Both of you."

But Mr. Dursley wasn't having any of it. He started another argument with Hagrid, this time insulting Dumbledore. Hagrid lost control, affected by the words, he grabbed a hold of his umbrella and with a swift movement, gave Dudley a tail. A pig's tail, to be precise.

"Merlin's beard!" Mel exclaimed, deciding that it was about time she started to grow accustomed to the usual lingo of wizards and witches.

Hagrid apologized for losing his temper, he wasn't allowed to do magic since he got expelled in his third year at Hogwarts, he didn't explain why. He handed his coat to Mel and Harry so they could sleep in it, warning them about the dormice.

The children didn't mind one bit, they were glad Hagrid had come to the rescue.

Next Chapter —>

#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter xoc #harry potter x reader #rubeus hagrid #WITT fic #harry potter x y/n

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s1cparvism4gna · 3 years

Text

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: cursing and violence

Pairings: Chloe Frazer x Nadine Ross x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae

Chapter 11

Sunny’s POV

We’d gone through another fort, tucked in a lakebed this time. We ended up going there first instead of the mountain. It was closer than we thought. This job seemed absolutely keen on testing my patience. I’m not sure if anyone really has noticed, but me and heights are not friends. Not even in the slightest. Try as I might, I just couldn’t deal with the fact that one day I might fuck up and fall into the unknown. But with Chloe’s coaching, I managed to be able to climb a couple of cliffs without a massive panic attack. Nadine, who I thought would tease me the most, was actually the most nurturing if you could believe it. And once again, we’d fought through a small clan of insurgents. Afterwards, we found another puzzle, just like the first. With the disc in its slot, I was able to jumble about pieces that formed into a bow and arrow this time. A little more difficult though as the pieces seemed to rotate around each other. But I handled it. It was easier than most puzzles I was subjected to solving. Just like before, the puzzle’s panel flipped, displaying a carved image of Parashurama and bars jutted out from the sides. Knowing what to do, Nadine and Chloe went to turn the crank.

“Alright let's do this.” Nadine said as I took a few steps back but Chloe stopped her.

“Now, now- hold on. What’s to say it’s water again? What if it’s like… fire or something this time?” She asked with a straight face. Nadine narrowed her eyes at her and shook her head.

“You’re messing with me.” Nadine said cautiously.

“Am I?” Chloe asked with a smirk. Nadine stared at her a bit longer before Chloe’s smile cracked. “I’m totally messing with you.” She chuckled. This woman had a talent for making lies sound factual. A talent much like a certain Drake I knew. She could deep fry a rat and tell me it was chicken and I’d believe her. The more I drew these similarities to each other, the more insecure I became. She was just like him…. just his type. My heart shattered at the thought of them being together again. I needed to see him. All I wanted to do was punch him for being an idiot. I sighed and began to light myself a cigarette as they turned the cranked. Again, water began to swell beneath us and burst out of the gutter in front of the platform. Another waterfall began to form in the relief that could be seen from all distances.

“Hm. I’m a little disappointed it isn’t fire.” Chloe said, elbowing Nadine in her side. A small smile threatened to pull on her lips before she began watching the waterfall. I could sense a bit of frustration from her.

“The Hoysala went to an absurd amount of trouble to hide the tusk.” She said, pacing back and forth behind her. Chloe shrugged and put her binoculars away.

“Welp. The Tusk was the symbol of Hoysala dominance. Representing their wealth and their might…” Chloe explained.

“Like a trophy… The Persians definitely would’ve wanted that.” I mumbled loud enough for her to hear. She snapped and finger gunned me for a split second before zoning out again.

“My dad always thought that the tusk was something even greater though…” She hummed.

“Wait. Your dad was after the tusk?” Nadine asked. The story just kept growing.

“Oh, my dad was obsessed with it.” Chloe said, her brows crinkled together in what seemed like resentment. I readjusted myself against a pillar as I listened to her talk. “All our money wasted on fruitless expeditions…”

“Heard that one before…” Nadine seemed to understand what that felt like. Me on the other hand… I only wished my dad had left on account of some great adventure. But no. He just couldn’t stand being around me anymore. I couldn’t relate. Nadine nodded her head as she began to piece Chloe’s story together. This was the most she’d ever revealed herself. To anyone. “So what came of it?” She asked. Chloe looked about aimlessly as she scrambled her brain for the answer. But the truth…

“I don’t know…..” she sighed as she tilted her head, her voice dripping in disappointment. She chuckled as she began to reminisce on the shitty times. “Well he sent me and my mum away…. Said it was no longer safe… and off to Australia we went….” she sighed uncomfortably. I frowned and hung my head, pulling in my cigarette and exhaling smoke. “And now here I stand….. on the outskirts of Halebidu…. that’s pretty funny.” It was crazy how life worked. How her father could never get close to this and yet Chloe has gotten closer than he ever could. If anyone deserves to find this thing, it was definitely her.

“Well at least your accent makes sense now…” Nadine chuckled softly. “Frazer’s not exactly an Indian surname either…”

“It was my mum’s.” Chloe said simply as she pulled her map to mark it up again.

“Speaking of accents… I’ve been meanin’ to ask you, Nadine… What in the fuck is your accent?!” I asked, trying to break the ice. I’d suddenly gotten tired of holding so much animosity. Nadine burst into a giggle.

“South African. Yours?”

“Texan. Nothin’ real special. I don’t speak in cursive like y’all.” I chuckled, pulling on my cigarette. Nadine suddenly giggled a little.

“Cursive. Wow.” Chloe laughed. I patted her on the shoulder on my way out.

“Let’s get goin’.” I grinned.

The way down was much easier than the way up. A passageway that wasn’t there before opened up and led us right to where we parked the 4x4. We began driving so as to not waste any time. I looked at Nadine in the side view mirror and her light eyes seemed to wander all over the place as she thought.

“It’s interesting. I get why Asav wants the tusk now. I thought maybe he just wanted it for the money like us.”

“He’ll use it to rally people to his cause. Wave it in the government’s face. Just like all the other times.”

“The other times? This happened before?” I asked in confusion.

“Oh yeah. Ever since the young king lost to the Persians. Everyone’s wanted to lay claim to it. To this land.”

“I thought this was just a treasure hunt...” Nadine commented.

“It is. Let men like Asav fight over it. It’s none of our concern— SHIT!”

Suddenly, a ball of fire seemed to fly right by us and land on the rocky wall near us, causing a huge explosion. The car bounced back a little from the force but it was fine nonetheless. Posted up on the ruins was another troop of men, taking deadly aim and firing at us from a distance with what looked like a China Lake. Mud kicked up at the spin of the wheels and the engine growled as Chloe whipped the vehicle about. She powered through as another one flew near but missed us and hit the ground before us. Nadine and I pulled our guns and began firing away as cover. Bullet sprayed across the field as we traded shots. And almost a little too easily, Chloe managed to get us out of there quickly and unharmed. “She who drives away, lives another day, I say!” She chuckled as I placed a hand over my heart to calm myself. I still hadn’t relaxed from the last fight. Another bout of adrenaline began to surge and I groaned. This job was a tease. I wanted action; I wanted to blow shit up, stab something, knock a couple heads. And every time I got the littlest taste, it was soon over. It was frustrating really. I just wanted to take some stress out on these guys and it wasn’t happening!

“You do realize fighting wars was my concern for a time.” Nadine mentioned.

“You did it for money though.” I pointed out.

“Usually.”

“And what about for Asav? What was that for?” I asked. She scoffed.

“Definitely a cash grab. Hardly worth the trouble.” She said. Chloe and I squealed like the couple of girls we were.

“Why do it then?” Chloe asked.

“I needed to establish my rep. So I figured I’d start with the worst of the bunch.”

“Guess from there, there’s nowhere to go but up!” I said with sarcasm. The girls both laughed. For once, the three of us were getting along. And that was good. I couldn’t help but wonder for how long though… We hadn’t run into any real trouble and there was no word from Sam yet. ‘I hope you’re okay…’ I thought for a moment. On one hand, I hoped he was safe and unharmed. On the other, I wanted to beat him up myself. For the meantime, the three of us were handling things just fine on our own. It was nice to be working with women for a change. We were only missing Elena...

For a while we began talking about everything from how we all got our start in the Life, what we’d found, where we’d been… At this point I found out Chloe had never been to the states which was insane! I promised I’d let her visit and that I’d show her around San Francisco. I even thought to invite Nadine if we managed to be cool by the end of this. we’d taken out more insurgents and just like that, we were on our way to the last puzzle. The fort we passed through to get there though, I hated. We had to swim through the lake to get by. Not only were my clothes wet but now so was my hair and my cigarettes… I couldn’t stress it enough: I hated it. Afterwards, the job managed to get a bit more exciting. Things were looking up. Inside a dark and musty room was a newer puzzle; statues that seemed to move with each pillar we stepped on.

“Well I’ll be go to hell… That’s elaborate.” Chloe said as the pillars rose from the ground at the turn of a crank. I stared at the mechanism and then longer at the statue. It was towering and golden, shaped like a warrior with a red jewel stuck in its chest. The faint sunlight that drew in seemed to make it glitter. In its hand was one massive axe. It was old but I was damn sure that thing still worked. Within three steps, the statue had risen its axe and swiped across. I could feel the wind from its quick motions from where I stood. Nervously, I hopped back the way I came in, looking at my path again to make sure it was correct. If I let it hit me, I’d be more than dead.

“Oh fun… Felt that one go by...” I grumbled as Chloe rubbed my shoulders.

“You can do this!” She told me with a fake tone of encouragement.

“Yeah… I got it…” I said, absolutely unsure if I really did. Nadine winced as she looked at the contraption.

“Are you sure you can solve that?” She asked me. I nodded as I ran my fingers through my wet curls and adjusted my pants. I bounced on my toes and shook off the nerves that began to prick at me like needles. Chloe made a face and placed a hand on top of my head.

“I can do this for you if you want, Sun—”

“No, no. I got this…..” I said, eyeballing it a little longer. Then suddenly it clicked for me. I could see the path. “Yeah…. yeah I got this.” I said, jumping onto the first pillar. I was able to get through it and the girls could walk over the pillars without the threat of a swinging statue. On the other side was a cliff and a beautiful view of the mountainous terrain, topped with fog and colorful trees. I watched the look on Nadine’s face as Chloe stopped to marvel at the sight. I punched her in the arm subtly with a teasing smile and she averted her gaze, shaking her head. The three of us ended up taking a selfie in front of the pretty green mountains, bunny fingers, goofy faces and all. It was nice.

As we followed the cliff into another dingy room, we’d come upon another puzzle. Just like the first but with more statues and increasingly more difficult. I sighed.

“Shall I take this one?” Chloe asked me. I shook my head.

“Lemme pull my weight. I got it.” I said. Throughout the trip, I barely contributed anything useful other than brute force. This was the time that I got to actually do something. To prove my worth to the team. I had to just nut up and do it. Although I was still pissed at him, I could hear Sam’s voice in my head. ‘Don’t think about it. Just do it.’ I heard him say, thinking about the way his thumbs would rub over the bone of my hips in comfort. I put a hand on my hip for a moment and took a deep breath before I turned the crank, watching the statues set and the pillars rise from the floor. This time there was one golden warrior statue and two silvers with a blue jewel in its chest. I jumped out to the first pillar and all three statues moved into their ready positions. It was harrowing almost. One wrong move and that was my whole head. I worked out a pattern halfway through until suddenly I had gotten stuck. I’d forgotten which way I’d just come from and I was planted right in front of a statue that was ready to swing at me. I was fucked. Royally. “Um…. g-guys!” I cried out nervously. “I fucked it…. I’m lost!”

“What do you mean ‘you’re lost’?!” Chloe shouted.

“I mean I’m lost, bitch! I fucked up! I don’t remember which pillar I jumped from!” I started to panic, pressing my hands to my cheeks and looking around me. I couldn’t figure out what was next. Surprisingly, Nadine was the calm in the storm.

“That’s okay! I was watching. Just give me a second…” I heard Nadine shout to me. Now my life was in her hands. I could only pray that she didn’t have the hesitation that I did. I crouched to hug my knees as I watched the two women bicker about something; I was too far away to really hear what about. After at least twenty minutes went by, I chewed on my lip anxiously as my mind began to overthink and wonder about all the people I loved in my life. Sweet, sweet Erik. My truest and oldest friend. I’ve treated him horrible the past year. And through it all he still loved me. With every flaw. Kitty Cat… the little sister I’d always wanted. Sure she was a little hard headed; stubborn, mouthy, and maybe even a little bit of an asshole! But I loved her and took care of her to the best of my abilities. Natey; the man who brought me into a better life and took me to places I could only ever dream of. His lovely wife Elena, Chloe, Sully, even Nadine… And Sam. God damn that man. The man who made me suddenly feel and want to feel again. I was then ripped from my depressive thoughts as I heard my name being called from a distance. I stood up and leaned forward, hoping to hear them better.

“Move to your left and jump backwards!” I heard Nadine shout. I did as I was told and the statue before me just missed me. The three of us screamed as it’s axe swiped by, cutting through the air. That gave me three more moves to make. I grinned and looked back at the two.

“Alright, I think I got it now!” I shouted back. I figured out how to get around the third statue and completed the puzzle. The girls were able to jump through safely once again. As soon as Chloe got off her platform, she ran to hug me tightly. It startled me but eventually I settled into it.

“I thought we’d lost you.” She grunted. She hugged me tighter and squished my face with her hands. “Lord knows what I’d tell anybody if anything ever happened to you.”

“That I died being dope. That’s all. That’s the announcement.” I joked, making her giggle. Nadine smiled to herself as she watched Chloe embrace me. After I managed to pry myself from Chloe’s arms, I walked over to Nadine and stuck a hand out to her.

“Thanks… for gettin’ me outta there.” I mumbled. She just smiled and shook my hand.

“Now we’re even.” She said simply. Suddenly, I could hear Chloe groaning in the next room. We ran inside to see what the problem was. When I did, I just about wanted to cry. Another puzzle. Five statues. Three gold, two silver, more nerves.

“Please tell me this is all.” I huffed.

“We’ll watch this time. Just in case you get stuck again.” Nadine told me reassuringly. I nodded at her and turned the crank. I stood at the starting point and the gate dropped down for me to begin. Each pillar in front of a statue made me sweat. Every time seemed like a reminder that my life was in this thing’s grasp. Though this one took a little longer, with help, I got through it. I stood at the end triumphantly and tiredly.

“Well done, Spurrs. Let’s hope there’s not another.” Nadine told me, patting my back.

“PLEASE NO!” I exclaimed.

“You mean you didn’t like it?” Chloe asked sarcastically. I made a face at her and she chuckled. “Shall we?” She gestured to the stone steps before us.

“Fuckin’ please.” I said, starting up the steps to get away from the death trap I’d just completed.

Just like the others, the last jigsaw puzzle was under a stone gazebo, overlooking the mountains with a clear view of the relief. The puzzle was like the last; the pieces rotated around one another. But I solved the puzzle to show the image of an axe. The panel flipped to reveal a carved likeness of Shiva and the crank bars sprung from its sides like the others.

“Let’s give it a turn then.” Chloe said grabbing one end and Nadine grabbing the other. I stepped back to watch them turn it when suddenly Chloe’s bar snapped and she fell face first into the grass and moss. I covered my mouth and giggled loudly.

“I told you it was dangerous.” Nadine smiled, helping her up. “Are you hurt?” She asked, giving her a once over. Chloe blinked at her a moment as she placed a hand on her cheek, checking for bumps or bruises. She smiled back and pushed her bangs off of her face.

“Just my dignity.” She cracked. It was like watching a shitty Rom-Com. My heart swelled watching the two of them. Chloe was still clueless but I was sure she’d get the hint eventually. I had faith. They both shared Nadine’s bar and pushed together to turn the crank. We already knew what to expect by then. The rumble, the noises, the gutter. And just like that, the waterfall in the relief was completed. The three of us stood at the edge to admire what we’d gone all over creation to finish. In the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe peek at Nadine from her binoculars with a smirk.

“Y’know… you’re pretty good at treasure hunting.” She told her. Nadine smiled to herself and glanced at the mountain.

“I’m a quick study.” She answered proudly, crossing her arms. Chloe pulled out this small golden piece she’d been constantly playing with since the job started. She tossed it in her hand in thought.

“One question though…” she began. Nadine turned her head and batted her long lashes. “I reckon you could pretty much do anything you want. Why are you so keen to get Shoreline back?” She asked. The question seemed to catch Nadine off guard. She tilted her head like she’d just asked the dumbest question.

“Seriously?” She asked. Chloe just nodded, awaiting an answer. I was rather curious myself. As efficient as she was, as talented as she was, why did she want some bullshit mercenary corp back? She began listing reasons off with her fingers. “My partner turns my own men against me. My lieutenant makes off with the bounty. Sunny got away.” I frowned as she pointed at me. Libertalia was a sticky situation for everybody. But she continued. “Nathan and Samuel Drake get off scot free, and you wanna know what I want Shoreline back?” I winced at the mention of the boys. There would always be that sore spot between us when it came to them. Chloe narrowed her eyes at her, chewing on her lip before answering solidly.

“Yeah.” She said. Nadine looked at her a moment, readying her mouth for the answer. Whatever it was, it seemed like it was still hard for her to accept.

“It was on my watch.” She replied somberly. She wrinkled her brows and hugged herself as she looked out at the foggy mountaintops. “I lost it on my watch.” In a way, I understood. She had a responsibility and it got out of hand. I didn’t exactly make her job easy for her either. I sort of felt bad for that.

“I’m sorry?” I mumbled. I wasn’t really sure what I was apologizing for but I felt like it needed to be said.

“‘I’m sorry’?” Nadine repeated, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yeah. For what it’s worth, I think you’re a kick ass chick. And I’m sorry things didn’t pan out well for you.”

“You were one of the reasons it didn’t.” She said.

“Yeah… but to be fair, you shot me.”

“And then your bloody boyfriend almost shot me!” She yelled.

“He is NOT my boyfriend!” I snapped. This was what I got for trying to be nice.

“Quit lying to yourself, Spurrs! This whole trip, you’ve done nothing but mope about something you claim doesn’t bother you!” She snapped, turning around to point an aggressive finger at me. Chloe groaned audibly and continued to play with her gold piece as Nadine threw a bitch fit because things hit too close to home. “My advice: stop mucking around with some guy who screws other people to hurt you. Just because you and I are square, doesn’t mean I don’t still have it in for him. He better be lucky he’s not here today because the second I get the chance, he’s dead. And I mean that.” She seethed. I snarled at her protectively. She’d have to go through me before I let that happen. Before I could even respond, she turned her attention back to Chloe, clearly annoyed.

“What is that thing you keep playing with?!” She snapped. Chloe smirked, amused by her annoyance.

“It’s my ‘stress toy’.” She answered. “It showed up in the mail a few weeks after we got to Australia…”

“Nice. Can we go now? As far as we know we’re ahead of this guy…” I said, my eyes never leaving Nadine’s. It seemed as if whatever animosity that was between us would never be resolved. As long as I was in alliance with the Drake brothers, she’d never truly reconcile anything with me. For the moment, that was fine. I wasn’t looking for new friends and I didn’t need them. But like the professional I tried my hardest to be, I pushed it aside to get the job done. As we headed back to the car, I listened to Chloe give her a short and sweet pep talk on how it was okay to fail. Similar to a talk I’d given Sam in Libertalia. At this point, I just wanted to get the job over with. I was tired, hungry, damp from water and sweat, it was hot, and I was worried. Suddenly, Chloe’s phone began to beep. The fact that she even remotely got a signal here was impressive. The expression on her face, not so much. She looked at me before fixing her face as Nadine turned around. What had happened? Was it Sam? I could exactly ask as we were keeping him away from Nadine. So I left it alone until later. With that, we got back to the 4x4 and set out for the relief in the mountain.

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555698/chapters/64735600

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eirist · 5 years

Text

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

THE IMPORTANCE OF NOT BEING NOSY

One-shot #: 13

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: M (Not too much though)

Note: Because I always love Zoro-Nami-Usopp interactions, I went ahead placed them in one crazy situation where Usopp, obviously, takes the brunt of everything. And somehow I keep on hitting 7k words and up recently. Though I already toned this one down because the first drafts of this story would’ve ended in a two-shot or even a multi-chap fic and I don’t want to drag it that much. Anyway enjoy.

Summary: “Because poking your long nose in other people’s business, is never a good thing.”

Soft wind blew from the sea making the white curtains of the open window flitter lazily. The port and the nearby market started to come to life as the townsfolk poured into the street for their afternoon errands. Their noises drifted inside the rather inconspicuous room along with the lulling sound of the waves, making a smile appear on the lips of one engrossed observant.

“What’s amusing out there?”

Nami spun around to look at the speaker who—very obviously—had just woken up, as he sat up on the bed, sleepily running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Hmm…” she hummed in answer. “Nothing really.”

“Aren’t you coming back to bed?”

The corners of her lips quirked up at that as their eyes meet. There was that familiar, mischievous glint in his that she always adored as it never fails to send a delicious shiver down her spine.

She smiled impishly at him and he in turn threw a cocky smirk her way.

“Now that you are awake, yeah,” she murmured before sauntering towards bed, never breaking their eye contact.

The moment she was near enough, he reached for her robe’s belt, yanking her brusquely to him and simultaneously untying the knot as well. The silky fabric immediately slid down her shoulders to pool at her feet.

His rough hands grabbed her waist, effortlessly lifting her, only to friskily push her down the bed. The mattress dipped from their movements and she laughed when he playfully trapped her underneath his well-built physique; the blankets tangling around their legs.

He grazed her lips with his teasingly, before kissing her fully.

“We still have time?” He asked huskily against her mouth, before moving to that ticklish spot just below her jaw.

“I think we do…” she breathed, angling her head to give him more access.

“Good.” He muttered before attacking the slender column of her neck with soft, tantalizing kisses.

She moaned when he nipped at her skin, and gasped his name when he deliberately traced the shell of her ear with his tongue. She ran both of her hands through his hair as she felt him grabbed at her thighs, urging her to wrap them around him as he settled comfortably between her legs.

A sudden commotion outside interrupted them as shouting and loud, running footsteps can be heard all over the street. There was an unmistakable sound of explosion somewhere. Followed by another and another.

“Uuuh…” the orange-haired woman groaned irritably.

The man above her stopped his ministrations and stared at her amusedly with a smirk on his face. “Duty calls?”

“I think my captain just got himself into trouble again,” she pouted. Planting a sweet kiss on his jaw, she looked at him slyly as she let her hands caressed his well-toned pectorals. “Too bad,” she said with a sigh as she lightly pushed him away from her so she could sit up.

His deep laugh filled the room and he leaned down to brush one last kiss on her lips. “It’s alright. We can always do this some other time.”

Nami smiled brightly at that. “Well… I guess see you on the next island then.”

-------------------------

The galley of the Thousand Sunny that night was startlingly at its quietest. Dinner was put on hold for the meantime as Nami all but bit off the heads of their two nakamas; who were both sitting soundlessly on the galley’s couch like two children being reproached by their mother.

“That’s it aho sencho!” Nami hissed furiously, gripping the front of Luffy’s red shirt tightly. “The next time you create a ruckus and gets us chased out of town again, I swear I will drown your sorry ass!”

Usopp watch edgily from the sidelines. He was one of the unlucky ones (aside from the cooking Sanji), who was in the galley the moment Nami entered while dragging Luffy and Zoro inside.

Luffy just grinned sheepishly in response to her. “Shishishi! But Nami, we did make it out of there!” He tapped her in the shoulder in an attempt to appease her. But that only served to ignite the orange-haired’s temper more.

“WE ALMOST DID NOT!” Nami roared and clocked him with enough force to plant his face on the galley’s floor, almost breaking it.

Everyone present inwardly winced at the sound it made.

Usopp’s eyes met Zoro’s. The green-haired man seemed unfazed with Nami’s anger. Most probably because he was used to it since he is usually the person at the receiving end of it.

But much to the sniper’s surprise, he was just silent all-throughout Nami’s outburst. Zoro kept his mouth shut with his arms folded across his chest. Not once did he answer back to the navigator.

Though Usopp had seen the way the corner of his mouth twitched slightly indicating that he was trying really hard to stop himself from snapping back at her.

From the way Zoro was looking, he was probably planning an absolutely painful demise for Nami right now… if he still hadn’t killed her a dozen times already inside his head.

He heard a huff from the kitchen. Sanji had busied himself with preparing their dinner, never once butting in like he usually did lest he join the other two morons on the couch.

“Serves you right, shitty gomu,” he finally muttered, peering at them from behind the bar counter. He lit a cigarette and took a drag. “Three times in a row. In every damn island. I can’t believe it.” He blew out the smoke with a slight shake of his head. “Wait I take that back. Actually I can since it’s you.”

Luffy lifted his head off the floor. “But Sanji. It’s not my fault!”

“Shut up Luffy!” Nami snarled. “I don’t care whose fault it is! I swear you piss me off so much right now!” She closed her eyes, fingers rubbing circles on her temples.

She was forced to run all over the town earlier looking for her doofus captain. Much to her trepidation, Luffy was being chased by two different pirate crews for reasons she doesn’t even want to know.

The navigator nearly got trampled when the idiot cheerfully ran towards her direction, waving at her enthusiastically, with the pack of enraged men still at his heels. If it wasn’t for Zoro suddenly appearing out of nowhere and sending a powerful attack towards Luffy’s pursuers that had them flying everywhere, she would’ve been flattened beyond recognition.

Relief washed over her but it was short-lived. Before she can stop him, Luffy drew his arms back and released a Gomu Gomu no Gatling on the remaining pirates who were luckily at the far back of the horde they were missed by Zoro’s attack.

She looked on in horror as other pirates arrived to help their fallen crew mates. Luffy and Zoro plus a horde of violent pirates in one place…

It was a disaster!

Nami can only watch in dismay as the two dove head first into an all-out brawl before she can grab them by the scruff of their necks.

A vein popped on her forehead, then another and another. Not only did Luffy put a stop to what was supposedly an intimate and enjoyable afternoon. But here he is with the other idiot of the crew, in a scuffle that will flatten this town in a matter of seconds. Summoning Zeus, she unleashed a powerful lightning blast enough to fry everyone in the vicinity into oblivion.

Then she dragged the two by their ears just as the townspeople, who weren’t caught in the crossfire, started amassing with clubs, wooden sticks and pitchforks (much to her surprise); eager to beat up the pirates who nearly destroyed their town.

The navigator let out an exasperated sigh and announced a bit wearily. “I’m going to take a bath,” she turned towards the blond chef. “Sanji-kun, you can go ahead and serve dinner.”

The cook nodded. “As you wish Nami-san but how about you?

“I’ll eat later.”

Sanji frowned slightly at that. “You know that I don’t like starting dinner if my lovely angel is not going to eat.”

“Uhm,” Usopp choose to intrude this moment or all the boys will starve. “Robin’s probably hungry. She did a lot of book shopping earlier.”

That swayed the cook into action. “Ah my Robin-chwan! Of course!” He cried out. “Go ahead Nami-swan. Take a relaxing bath first! Do you want me to prepare it for you?”

“It’s ok Sanji-kun. I can manage.” Nami said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she proceeded towards the ladder leading to the upper deck.

“I’ll prepare a special meal for you later my love!” Sanji called out after her. “Just take your time and wash away all the stress and worries these two dumbasses,” he glared at Zoro and Luffy. “Gave you!”

Zoro scowled darkly at him.

Luffy automatically pushed himself into a sitting position when he heard the word dinner. Glancing at Nami with a sulky pout he complained, “Nami! Why aren’t you also mad at Zoro?”

The green-haired man stiffened as Nami stopped in her tracks. Zoro glared at his captain for deliberately throwing him straight into the witch’s wrath. He was not in the mood to start a row with her… that is why he kept mum all throughout her rant.

“Luffy, I attacked to save her.” He reminded his captain flatly. “Not because I wanted to start a fight with them.”

“But you also attacked again to fight them.”

Zoro opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by Nami clonking Luffy on the head. “It’s because I’ve exhausted myself too much on you! I will get to him later once I have enough energy again!”

As Luffy whined and nursed the bump on his head; Zoro grumbled curses under his breath, muttering that he should’ve let the enemy pirates flattened Nami to the ground.

She turned towards him and smiled sweetly. Too sweetly it was actually bordering to scary. “I heard that Zoro,” she said through gritted teeth. “Hold your horses. I will make your fucking ears bleed later.”

“That couldn’t be good,” Usopp mumbled from across the table. A re-energized Nami would definitely wage a verbal war with the swordsman no matter what time of the day it is.

Zoro stood up and met Nami’s gaze directly. “How about some gratitude for saving your ass onna?”

Nami scoffed. “Thank you for saving me Zoro! It should have ended with THAT instead of you two engaging in a fight! Argh!” She shrieked at the green-haired man. “I swear you and Luffy are absolute headaches! I’m not even halfway finished with my shopping…”

“How is that my fault woman?!” Zoro seethed. “You had all day today to—”

“Just shut up Zoro. I’ll deal with you later.” The navigator said exasperatedly. “Just know that your debt and Luffy’s went way past the roof today! Kami, I need a really warm bath to relieve all this stress!”

“You witch!” The tall lad finally snapped at her.

Usopp gulped. Zoro seemed to have reached the end of his rope. From the way the two were now glowering at each other, they’re gonna start quarreling in a matter of seconds. No thanks to their stupid captain and his big, rubber mouth.

He stood up suddenly and before he knew it his hands slammed down the table, louder than he intended. That got their attention. Though he balked a little when Nami and Zoro shifted their gazes to him.

“G-gu-guys! Please,” he stuttered. “Can we just eat? I’m already starving. Aren’t you all?” He swallowed the lump formed in his throat.

Luffy seconded his grievance. “Yeah! Sanji! Meshi! Meshi!”

Nami did not answer. Instead, with one final, furious look directed at Zoro then at Luffy; she turned her heel and headed towards the ladder again without another word.

Usopp exhaled in relief. That was close!

The door of galley opened and the other Mugiwaras started to pile in, probably aware that it’s already safe to venture inside.

A smiling Robin tilted her head slightly when she entered. “Ara… I’m glad we don’t have any fatalities tonight.” She giggled behind her mouth as her blue eyes settled on Luffy and Zoro. “I was afraid Nami will choke the life out of you two from the mêlée you’ve caused in town earlier.”

“Robin… you and your morbid thoughts.” Usopp grumbled.

“Well, disappointingly she didn’t, Robin-chwan.” Sanji said as he stepped out of the kitchen, balancing a tray filled with steaming dishes in one hand. He held out the other to take the archeologist’s own and guided her to her chair. “Anyway, dinner is served!”

-------------------------

“Nami?”

“Usopp?”

The sniper and the navigator ran at each other on the lawn deck a few hours after dinner. Or to be more specific, Usopp was on his way to the galley to sneak some midnight snacks for his watch duty later when he ran into Nami, who looked like she just got down from crow’s nest.

Usopp’s eyes shifted towards the nest then back at her. “Did you seriously climb up there to give Zoro a dressing-down?”

“So what Usopp?” Nami folded her arms across her chest. “You got a problem with it?”

He shook his head. “None actually. I’m just surprised that it didn’t end up in a spat.” He scratched his head. “Kami knows how you two can go all night yapping at each other…”

“I have my ways.” Nami muttered grumpily. “I told him if he piss me off anymore tonight, I’m gonna stab him with his swords while he’s sleeping.”

Usopp looked horrified and scared all at the same time. Nami can be really freaking scary.

“That’s horrible!” He gasped and stepped away from her. “Why are you so mad at them anyway? Are you still not used to them starting trouble everywhere we go?”

The navigator’s face scrunched up into a frown. “That’s not it Usopp! I’m just furious at them for ruining my afternoon!”

“Uhh ok…” Usopp scratched his cheek. “They ruined your shopping or something?”

“You can say that.”

Usopp nodded in understanding. He knows how Nami hates going back to the ship empty-handed whenever there is a chance to shop. “Uh, speaking of shopping… I haven’t seen you in the island earlier. Where were you?”

“Me?” Nami raised an eyebrow at him. “I was exploring the island. They have lots of shops and stalls after all.” She looked at him curiously. “Why are you looking for me?”

“It’s just that I haven’t ran into you. Not once!” Usopp explained. “I saw Robin twice and even she had not seen you!”

“I think I may have wandered a little off the beaten path to survey the island’s layout.”

This time it was Usopp’s turn to lift an eyebrow at her. “With no tools?”

Nami pursed her lips. “Why? Can’t I do an ocular first?”

“Well you can. Did you go alone?” His eyes were wide when he asked her that question. He doubts if she can fair pretty well exploring on her own knowing how much of a coward she is.

“What’s with the hundred questions Usopp?”

“Nothing! I just find it weird that I didn’t come across you earlier,” Usopp explained with a shrug. “I met everyone twice, even thrice, while looking around.”

“Why are you looking for me anyway? Do you need something?”

“Not really. I’m just wondering why no one has seen you on the island. It’s like you disappeared!”

Nami huffed. “Like I said, I was surveying and shopping. Our paths just didn’t cross. It’s no big deal.”

“Well I was worried something happened to you!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen Usopp. But thanks anyway,” The navigator smiled at him slightly. “I’ll just turn in early tonight. I’m tired from all that.”

Usopp nodded. “Alright. Good night Nami.”

“Good night Usopp.” She gave him a small wave as she started to walk away from him. “Oh and by the way, I’m charging you three hundred belis for every question you’ve asked!”

“Oi! You money fiend!” Usopp shouted. “Take that back!”

But his retorts fell on deaf ears as Nami bounded up the stairs and disappeared inside the girls’ room.

-------------------------

It was two islands later that Usopp confirmed something.

Nami was acting really odd whenever they dock.

Just like before, he didn’t run into her the whole time they were prancing around the island.

He didn’t see her anywhere. Literally anywhere.

The only time he laid eyes on her was when she got back to the Sunny a bit later than usual.

And when he asked her about it again, he received the same answer as before.

She was surveying the island and shopping and stated in a rather condescending tone that the island was big that it is possible not bump into each other.

It was rather strange because when he saw her return, she was not lugging any shopping bags nor did he saw her spend some time in the library to sketch a rough draft of the island they’ve been… something that she normally did whenever she does any visual map outs.

Besides, when did Nami window shop ever?

It was driving him nuts. What the hell is she doing? Why is she disappearing in every island they dock?

And more importantly, why is she not telling the truth?

He had been making lies all his life. The liar of course knows when someone is lying.

He made up his mind to find out.

-------------------------

The slight movement of the waves made the Thousand Sunny bobbed lightly above the water.

Up in the crow’s nest, Usopp can feel the lazy movement of the ship. Usually it lulls him to sleep even when he’s on watch.

But not tonight.

Tonight, a dozen questions were running inside his head. Questions that needed answers, it’s not giving him a moment’s rest. Questions that surfaced because of what he had discovered earlier.

“Usopp?”

The sniper jolted out of his daze at the voice. Zoro had just climbed the nest to relieve him of his shift.

“Oh hey Zoro.”

The swordsman dipped his head in response. He strode languidly towards the bench and placed his swords there. He was grasping a bottle of sake in one hand which he obviously filched from the Sunny’s stock.

“I’ll take it from here Usopp,” he said while removing his green robe. He threw it beside his precious katanas.

Usopp absent-mindedly nodded but did not move from his position.

“Usopp?”

Zoro tapped him on the shoulder and his head snapped up to look at him.

“Huh?”

“I said I’ll take it from here,” Zoro repeated, the impatience clear in his tone. He regarded him curiously. “Is there something wrong?” He asked when he noticed the sniper was not responding.

Usopp inhaled deeply. He doesn’t know how to begin explaining it.

But the swordsman is a really keen observant. Maybe he already noticed something.

“Say Zoro?”

“What?”

Usopp looked up to him again. Zoro was chugging down almost half the content of the bottle. “Have you noticed anything different with Nami lately?”

Zoro stopped drinking and was silent for a moment. Then he raised an eyebrow at him. “Different?”

Usopp nodded.

“I haven’t noticed anything different with that wicked witch.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

“Nothing. It just kinda feels like she’s hiding something.”

The green-haired lad sat down beside him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that Nami’s acting a bit weird lately.”

Zoro scratched his head. “And?”

“She keeps disappearing whenever we dock in an island. When I questioned her about it, she said she was just out shopping and surveying.”

“What seems to be the problem with that?”

“She returns without any shopping bags Zoro! Nor is she drawing any maps as of late.” Usopp explained getting impatient himself.

“Maybe you just don’t see her doing it.”

Usopp stared at him as Zoro casually downed his drink. “Has she been pestering you to be her pack-mule-for-the-day lately?”

“No.”

“And don’t you find it strange?”

“Not really. Works for me.”

Usopp exhaled loudly. Figures. He had forgotten that Zoro have a soft spot for the navigator as big as an ant.

Silence hovered between them for a minute before Usopp choose to break it.

“I think Nami’s meeting with someone Zoro.”

That made Zoro pause with his sake bottle midway to his lips. “Meeting with someone?”

The black-haired lad nodded.

“That’s kinda, uh, vague?”

Usopp glared at him. “She’s meeting with someone. Meeting. Like she’s seeing someone.”

“Seeing someone?” Zoro repeated.

“Yes!”

Zoro let the information sink in before commenting. “First time I’ve heard of it,” he brought the bottle to his lips to drink again. “And what if she is? You jealous or something?”

“NO!” Usopp almost shouted. “No. I’m not!”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow at him.

“More of worried.”

“Worried?” The former pirate hunter looked like he was thinking. “Usopp, what’s it to us if she is seeing someone? It’s her life and her choice.”

“She’s keeping it a secret from us! She’d been lying about her whereabouts and what she’s doing!”

Zoro snorted. “And she can’t?”

“I’m worried Zoro!” This time Usopp pushed himself up and started pacing back and forth. “What if she’s seeing a bounty hunter in disguise or a marine undercover? She could be in danger and she and all of us are none the wiser!”

“Nami can handle herself well.” Zoro barely batted an eyelid as he said that. “You made sure of that when you made her that stick.”

Usopp frowned at him and the way he referred to his invention. “I know you two don’t usually meet eye to eye and that you couldn’t care less if something happens to her…”

“Oi,” Zoro said in a warning tone cutting him off.

Usopp back-pedaled. “Ok, maybe you care a little. She’s our friend after all. But Zoro, what if she can’t handle it like you’re saying? She’s not as strong as you or Sanji or Luffy!”

“Wait Usopp calm down. And stop pacing damn it!” Zoro rubbed a hand across his face. “How do you even know of this?”

That halted Usopp’s nervous outburst. “Uhm… I might’ve followed her?”

“Might have?”

“Alright! I followed her earlier! I’m worried!”

Zoro let out a ‘tch’. “And? Is there a reason to be?”

Usopp wiped his forehead with his hand frustratingly. “I don’t know! I’m not sure. That’s why I’m telling you! Maybe you can… help me?”

“Help you? How?”

“You know… that haki thing?

“Haki thing? But you also have it.”

“I don’t know how to use it!” Usopp confessed. “Unlike you, my haki’s not that developed. I can barely sense who she’s with inside the room.”

The swordsman held up one hand to stop him. “Who she’s with? Inside the room?”

Usopp bobbed his head up and down and started to explain.

“Like I’ve said, I saw her in town earlier and followed her. I saw her head towards an inn in the discreet part of the town.”

Zoro was now staring at him seriously.

“She went inside and I did too. I saw her head upstairs and knock on the door of one of the rented rooms. When it opened, she just went inside and that’s that.”

“So you didn’t see who was there in the room?”

“I didn’t.” Usopp shook his head.

The swordsman huffed. “You know, Nami’s business is her business,” he gulped down the remaining sake in the bottle. “If she wants to spend the day shacking up with someone, then she can without us meddling.”

Usopp blushed at that and Zoro shrugged at his reaction.

“You’re worrying too much Usopp.”

“And you’re worrying too little.”

Zoro look irritated at that. “I just don’t like prying in other people’s business. You know that. If you are really worried why don’t you just ask Nami about it?”

“Are you kidding? Usopp gasped. “I don’t want her to sic Zeus on me!” He grabbed Zoro’s arm.

“Have you tried asking Robin? That woman knows everything.” Zoro suggested. “Nami might have told her something.”

“Like she’d tell me if she does.”

“Ok. Point taken,” Zoro said, scratching his chin. “Though she might have an idea if Nami is seeing someone we should be wary of.”

Usopp pouted. “True. But I want to know myself.”

“Now you’re just being nosy.”

“I call that being protective!” The sniper retorted. “Zoro are we going to just wait for the day when she comes back here injured or she doesn’t come back at all?” Usopp argued. “I want to make sure that whoever the hell is that, he is not gonna cause her any harm!”

The former pirate hunter was quiet. As much as Nami always rubs him the wrong way, there’s no way in hell he would sit back and do nothing once she gets hurt.

“Usopp,” Zoro muttered his name with an edge on his tone. “Let me ask you again. You’re really sure she met with someone?”

“Uhm… yeah. I heard her talking to somebody while inside the room.”

“You heard?”

“I kinda tried to eavesdrop.”

“What did you hear?”

“It’s muffled. And they are talking in hushed tones I can barely make out what they’re saying.” His face colored suddenly. “Then I heard her giggle and there was a sound of the bed creaking or something…”

The expression on Zoro’s face was unreadable and they stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. “Uh,” Zoro rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “What did you do then?”

“I waited up for her in the bar downstairs. Until she came out of the room and went back here.”

“You didn’t think to wait up on who will come out of that room after her?”

Usopp cringed. Well he didn’t think of that. “It kinda slipped my mind,” he confessed sheepishly.

A snort came from the Supernova.

“That’s why I’m asking for your help!”

“Usopp…”

“We are crew mates! I just don’t want her getting involve with someone who might be dangerous!”

Zoro pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll talk to Nami.” He suddenly announced and Usopp panicked.

“No! She’ll have my hide if she finds out I’m suspicious of her and stalking her and her… I don’t know what to call it… lover?”

The Mugiwara first mate grimaced at the word. “Then what do you want to do Usopp?!”

Usopp grabbed both of his arms. “Just come with me and figure out who she’s seeing and if that man is dangerous or not! That way we can protect her if need be!”

The swordsman sighed. Nami will have their asses for this. “You know talking to her is still the best way Usopp.”

“Come on please! It will help me sleep at night! Besides I’m scared of her.” Usopp proclaimed firmly.

Zoro rubbed a hand on his face. “You’re a good friend Usopp. Even if you’re poking your long nose where it’s unwanted,” he then smirked. “Alright. I’ll help you.”

“Really Zoro?”

The green-haired man nodded. “Who else knows about this?”

Usopp looked startled at his question. “Uhm, just me. I don’t want anyone else to know,” he answered. “This is not the kind of thing you tell Luffy or heaven’s forbid, Sanji.”

“Keep it that way,” Zoro advised. “The next time we dock, we’ll see what this is all about.”

The sniper had tears in his eyes. He cannot help but wrap his arms around the tall lad. “Thanks Zoro! You’re the best!”

“HEY! GET OFF ME USOPP!”

-------------------------

“So?”

He was immediately at the receiving end of a sharp glare.

“I can’t sense anyone with her Usopp.” Zoro replied.

“Are you sure?” Usopp whispered.

Zoro’s good eye narrowed dangerously at him. “I’m pretty sure.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

They Straw Hats had just anchored in another island and Usopp all but drag Zoro to follow their navigator as she made her way into town. Honestly, he didn’t know if it was a really good idea to lug the tall swordsman who always gets himself lost after three steps but he needed help.

Just in case it ends in a confrontation and Nami’s lover is someone Usopp cannot defeat. He can just let Zoro do the honors.

And he gotta hand it to the green-haired man, even if he did managed to turn them around wrong corners and streets and almost lost the mapmaker they were tailing. Zoro was still able to find they place where Nami is.

Thank Kami for haki. Maybe Zoro should use it more often and avoid getting lost anywhere they go.

Usopp fidgeted nervously. They were in the inn where they saw Nami disappeared into. They headed straight upstairs, thankful that the innkeeper was preoccupied with a fight that broke out in the first floor bar.

“Maybe the guy she’s seeing found out we’re trailing her!” The sharpshooter remarked fretfully. “And since he doesn’t want to reveal himself, he just stood her up! Oh Kami! She’ll be in a pissed off mood later!”

“Well…” Zoro clicked his tongue. “If you suck at tailing someone then yeah that is possible.”

“I hate you!”

“Look Usopp,” Zoro ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “Maybe he’s just late or something. We better not be here in case he finally shows up.”

“But…”

“Tell you what. I’ll do the stake out here until Nami gets back to the ship.” Zoro suggested much to Usopp’s shock.

“You would?” Usopp breathed out.

“Yeah,” Zoro nodded. “But in return you buy me booze.” He pointed towards the bar with his thumb.

Usopp stared at him.

“Favor for a favor.”

The long nosed sniper sighed. He can’t very well stay. If the man Nami is meeting already discovered she’s being followed, then he might not show up in the inn.

Maybe leaving it to Zoro is a much better idea. The man has razor sharp senses and he can sit tight in one bar drinking the whole stock empty but still be aware of everything and everyone around him.

This would definitely burn holes in his pockets. But he made it his mission. So he has to see it until the end.

Besides, if Nami sees him, it would only look like Zoro just randomly ended up in this establishment after getting lost in his wanderings.

“Alright,” Usopp agreed. “But you have to tell me everything you’ll find out.

Zoro bobbed his head slightly. “Sure.”

“And don’t go picking fights with anyone.”

Zoro growled at him. “I’m not Luffy.”

“We have to find out who that man is ok?” Usopp gripped him on both shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night Usopp.”

-------------------------

The door of the room opened and Nami immediately swiveled around with a huff and marched towards the man who just entered the room.

“So?” She asked, raising one delicate eyebrow.

Zoro locked the door behind him and met her impatient gaze with an amused one.

“What happened?” The orange-haired woman placed both hands on her hips as she waited for him to tell her the details of his afternoon with Usopp.

“Told him I’d do the stake out and spy on you, the swordsman answered. “Then send him off his merry way.”

Nami pouted. Zoro told her that Usopp was getting suspicious of her and her activities and that he followed her on the last island and actually saw her go inside an inn. “I swear his long nose isn’t just for show!”

Zoro laughed as he removed his swords, resting them against the small bedside table. He approached Nami and wrapped his arms around her.

“Usopp’s just looking out for you,” he kissed her forehead. “Even I couldn’t get annoyed with him being nosy with that kind of reason.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “He’s a good friend that much I can say.”

“I know,” Nami mumbled. “And I appreciate his meddlesome self just this once.” She rubbed her hands on his shoulders tenderly. “He didn’t need to go this far though.”

“He just wants to know if you are seeing someone dangerous or a threat to your safety.”

Nami arched an eyebrow at that. Then a cheeky smile spread across her lips. “I am seeing someone dangerous.” She patted him on the chest.

“You are?”

She nodded and she pushed him towards the one arm chair available inside the room. He ungracefully plopped down on it and smirked when she sat herself on his lap.

“Yes,” she murmured as she brought her lips closer to his. “Former bounty hunter?” She kissed him light and fleeting. “Supernova?” She kissed him again, deeply this time. “More than 300 million bounty on his head?” She grinned. “Dangerous.”

His hands roamed across her body freely, liking the way her silk robe was clinging tightly against her body and how it feels against his calloused palms. “Guess he really have a reason to worry.” He said in a gruff tone before capturing her lips with his.

She pressed her body closer to his. Zoro’s one hand settled itself on the curve of her hips while the other grabbed at her nape so he can kiss her deeper.

Nami opened her mouth for him, coaxing him to slip his tongue inside and play with hers as her hands busied themselves undoing the sash that held his green robe.

She moaned in frustration when he pulled away to gaze at her. Her hands slid inside his clothing, pushing it down his broad shoulders as he started kissing her neck, his warm lips sending shivers all throughout her already heated body.

“Maybe he deserves a thank you something for this after all,” Nami whispered, raking her hands through Zoro’s green hair. As much as it was irksome, she can’t help but feel lucky that she have friends who looks out for her and has her back.

“Maybe he does,” Zoro agreed as he stopped showering her neck with kisses and instead moved to that ticklish spot behind her ear.

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and whimpered. That spot always drives her crazy.

Zoro suddenly pulled her closer to him, their nose almost touching as he stared at her with raw desire behind his gray eye. “Enough about Usopp, we’ll deal with him later,” his voice was rough that it almost came out as a growl. His hand was caressing her backside. “Are you naked underneath that?”

A Cheshire cat-like grin appeared on Nami’s face at his question. She playfully removed herself from his embrace and stepped away from him.

“Why don’t you find out?” She mischievously walked backwards to the bed as he continued to sit on the arm chair, watching her intensely.

“You take the fun out of undressing you.”

“Well maybe if you are here sooner you would’ve been able to take all my clothes off.”

Zoro just chuckled.

“Don’t fret,” Nami smirked at him, pulling at the knot of her robe. “I saved one for you.”

She turn around, letting the garment drop down the floor and climbed on the bed, giving Zoro a full view of her irresistible bottom in lacy red thong.

She heard his breath hitched and the sound ignited every single part of her body.

The navigator swiveled her head to look back at him, teasingly and sexily, as her wild orange locks fell on one shoulder. Zoro was now on the edge of the seat, his one eye trained on her as he took in the sensuous sight. He was almost devouring her with his gaze as he ran a tongue on his lower lip, looking almost predatory.

Oh she knows how he loves seeing her on all fours, just as much as he loves seeing her spread out deliciously in front of him.

“Come on Zoro,” she called out seductively. “Are you just gonna sit there and stare?”

-------------------------

Usopp grumbled as he trudged glumly towards his factory. The day had been an utter waste. And he was nowhere near getting any answers to his Nami-related questions.

He went back at the inn earlier to check on Zoro and the idiot swordsman disappeared on him.

How can one get lost while just sitting on the bar drinking? Gosh this is a whole new level of Zoro’s getting-lost-talent!

Strangely when he asked the barkeeper if he had seen a green-haired man drinking within the vicinity, he said he did not have any customer like that.

The idiot swordsman tricked him into paying for his drinks and probably went into another bar!

So much for helping him out!

But when he saw Zoro in the Sunny before dinner, the swordsman gave him back his money pouch.

“I wasn’t able to use it,” Zoro said, patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks anyway Usopp.”

“Why aren’t you in the bar earlier?” Usopp hissed at him. “I went back and you’re not there!”

“Well, no one showed up,” the green-haired lad explained with a shrug. “No use staying there waiting for nothing.”

“Oh,” Usopp mouthed. “Oh my god! Nami’s gonna be furious!” He grabbed Zoro by the arm. “Where is she? Is she back here already in the Sunny?”

“I don’t know,” Zoro grumbled.

Their conversation was interrupted by Sanji yelling ‘dinner’.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Usopp muttered and Zoro just yawned in response.

“If I’m sleeping don’t wake me.” The tall lad reminded him as he headed towards the galley.

“But…”

“Don’t worry. We’ll talk Usopp. I just have nothing to tell you about earlier that will be helpful.” Zoro grunted before leaving him on the deck.

Usopp sighed. Now he’s back into square one.

He pushed the door to his factory open and stopped short.

There was rectangular-shaped box, gift-wrapped with an orange bow, resting quietly on his work table with a note attached to it.

He warily approached the gift and studied it. It was kinda heavy. He shook it a little, hoping to get an idea on what was inside. He glanced at the note and was surprised to see what was on it.

It said ‘thanks’ in a very familiar handwriting. And as if to make sure he’s not going to be mistaken as to who it was from, a mikan was drawn on the bottom right part of the paper.

What the hell?

A cold, clammy feeling suddenly enveloped him. And he started to sweat profusely.

Nami had found out! She must’ve caught Zoro earlier. Damn it!

-------------------------

Usopp made his way up the rope ladder to the crow’s nest. He doesn’t care if Zoro’s asleep or not. He had some explaining to do.

He heaved himself up the metal rung and when he reached the top, he called out. “Zo—”

“Hello Usopp.”

The sniper’s eyes widened when he saw who was in front of him and he froze. What is Nami doing here? From the way she was standing near the hatch, Nami seems to be aware that he was on his way up.

His gaze shifted towards green-haired lad sitting casually on the bench, looking at him a bit smugly. Zoro must’ve sensed him and told the navigator.

Usopp all but stammered. “I-I-I’ll just return later.”

Nami suddenly grabbed him by the nose and pulled him inside.

“Hey ouch!” He cried out, slapping her hand away. “Let go!”

The mapmaker relented and placed her hands on her hips, smiling wickedly at him. “So did you like my thank you gift?”

Usopp gulped from his sitting position on the metal floor while rubbing his nose. “I haven’t opened it yet.” Actually, he did not have the courage to open it. He just stared at it as seconds turned to minutes before coming to a decision to head to the crow’s nest and talk to Zoro.

Nami pouted. “Why? You’ll like it. I promise!”

That sentence scared him even more than Nami who was right in front of him.

Zoro was watching them from his spot, the amused expression clearly visible on his face.

“Zoro!” Usopp suddenly yelped. “I can’t believe you told on me!”

The swordsman laughed at his accusation. “I had too.”

“You didn’t have too!” Usopp growled at him. “Did she caught you earlier and threatened you into confessing?”

Zoro scowled at that. “She didn’t.”

“That’s right. I didn’t. He went and told me on his own volition.” Nami suddenly leaned towards him so they were face to face. “So you were following me around recently?”

“Uhm…”

“Because you want to know what I’m doing and who I’m seeing huh Usopp?”

Usopp refused to answer. After all when this is over, they would probably be fishing his dead remains on the sea… that is, if the sea kings didn’t get to it first. He glared daggers at Zoro who was looking so calm for someone who was also involved with snooping on Nami’s afternoon tryst.

Then it struck him. Zoro must’ve sold him out! He cannot believe it! He cannot believe he is capable of that. Wasn’t he a man of honor?

Nami peered at his face when he did not utter any word. “Are you still in there Usopp?”

“I think I’m already dead.”

Zoro snorted at his response.

The navigator laughed. “You’re exaggerating.” She grinned cattily at him. “You really want to know who I’m seeing Usopp? From what Zoro told me, you already know what I’m doing…”

The sniper blinked at her, startled by her offer. Then he blushed at her statement.

“I will introduce you to him,” Nami offered. “So you don’t have to follow me around or exert too much effort spying on what I do. Kami knows what you might see.”

Zoro coughed at that as Usopp turned a darker shade of red.

Then his dark eyes shifted from Zoro then to Nami. And he realized something.

If Nami knows what he was doing because Zoro told her straight away…

…Zoro must’ve known what she’s been up to all along!

“I can’t believe you Zoro,” Usopp unexpectedly cried out, that Zoro was taken aback. “You should’ve just told me that you knew what Nami’s been up to!”

Zoro folded his arms across his chest, leaning back into the bench. “Why would I do that? Do you think I want her pissed with me?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?”

The swordsman’s face scrunched into a frown at his accusation.

“Of course Zoro’s loyal,” Nami interrupted, huffing. With a roll of her brown eyes, she grabbed Usopp by the straps of his suspenders, dragging him towards where Zoro was sitting. “He’s loyal to me.”

“Huh?” Usopp was dumbfounded. When did Zoro gave precedence to Nami over him?

Nami’s grin was too mischievous for his liking.

“Say hello to the man I’m seeing Usopp.”

Usopp’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped off its hinges.

Zoro barely smirk and shook his head at their antics. He and Nami agreed that maybe it would be better to let Usopp in on the secret rather than watch him spiral down into anxiety.

The sniper spent the whole five minutes gawking at them. “But… but…” he managed to stutter after a long while. “You don’t even like each other! You always fight and never agree to anything! You actually cannot stand each other! How did this happen?!”

Zoro and Nami shared a glance.

“Well…”

“I’m so confused right now.” Usopp declared with a shake of his head. He studied his two nakama who never in his wildest dream would eventually get together.

“Sorry Usopp,” Zoro chuckled as he leaned forward. “But Nami and I agreed to keep this a secret. Though I really appreciate that you’re looking out for her.”

“And I hope this helps you sleep at night,” Nami winked at him before settling down beside the swordsman.

Usopp closed his eyes. It feels like someone’s playing a joke on him. Nami and Zoro? Of all the strangest things to ever happen in this side of the New World…

… THIS tops it all.

“And now that you know our secret,” Nami wagged a finger at him as she tucked her legs under her. “You are going to help us keep it that way!”

Usopp’s eyes widened. For heaven’s sake! How was he going to keep this a secret? It nearly drove him crazy when he was keeping his mouth shut about Nami’s strange behavior. And he actually went to Zoro to talk about it.

Because he cannot fucking keep it to himself!

Now THIS?

This is a nightmare!

And Nami seems to be aware of his dilemma because the grin on her face when she rested her head against Zoro’s shoulder was purely too evil.

This is what he got for poking his long nose into her business—their business—regardless of the reasons.

He’s now in on their secret.

And this secret…

He realized with a sinking feeling.

… Is gonna be hell to keep.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zoro nami fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro #nami

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