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#sorry for the anxiety drop today xD
djsadbean · 1 year
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Are you on Hiatus?
If so, good for you, everyone deserves a break once in a while.
sort of ^^ i realized i was going too hard too quickly with my art and writing so im taking it slow for a bit and trying not to draw on my ipad unless its for commissions. i also graduated from uni this past may so im trying to unlearn the insanity that is academia xD idk im just trying to calm down i guess. i have certainly not left the fandom <3 im lovingly tormented by amazing cheese every DAY /lh but yeah just chillin and trying to learn how to be me without feeling very anxious about productivity
(i finished school in a shortened time and it was very rigorous. it ruined my sleep schedule and raised my anxiety levels a lot and i never really recovered from that or the anxiety from high school. i took oct/nov off to try and relax. i hope this makes sense)
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zorosjuicymelonsx · 3 months
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Finding You
A/N: Happy Valentines Day!
Dropping in with another chapter! When I'm writing this story, I honestly feel like such a Zoro scholar with how much I sit there and think about how he's feeling XD ya boy is not very expressive but he's still my pookie bear <;3
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, I don't think this is much of a warning but just in case; you get a bit of acid in your throat from anxiety/shock if ya know what I mean or ever experienced it. There is some fighting but I've not gone into the whole blood thing so its just actions but I know some of you guys do not do well with blood.
Without further ado, I'll be back next week to drop the next one!
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Chapter Four Previous Next
A few weeks had passed since your arrival and you managed to settle in with everyone…all except for Zoro. Since your duel with him, he’d made every effort to ignore you. From aired hellos when you greeted him passing by to moving seats away from you at meal times when you tried sitting next to him to him spending more time in the Crows Nest away from everyone.
As disheartened as you felt, you knew you couldn’t force him to talk to you. You assured everyone that you were okay. You spent most of your nights trying to wrap your head around the possibility that something could have tampered with his memory, removing all signs of you in his head. The mere thought of the endless possibilities made your blood boil and kept you from falling asleep soundly.
To keep yourself busy and away from living in your own head, you’d throw yourself into sketching; deciding to start a new project involving drawing everyone on the ship secretly and framing them to hang in the galley. You were able to draw Luffy fishing, Usopp training with his slingshot, Nami in her study working on her maps, Franky fixing the mini-Merry and Chopper taking a nap in his infirmary. You were grateful for your memory as it was getting harder to remain inconspicuous, almost getting caught by Brook whose lurking ghost form had almost given you a heart attack but not before you were able to slam your sketchbook shut and lecture him on how not to sneak (or fly?) up on people.
You’d also been spending more time with the girls on the deck lounging in the lawn chairs, the concept of relaxation foreign seeing as you’d spent so long journeying around the world. Aside from your usual training which you conducted almost every morning, you asked Jinbe to train you in fishman karate, fascinated by the art which he graciously agreed to do for you.
Today, you had planned to sketch and relax to take a break from your usual training schedule.
As you made your way up to the table on the deck, your sketchbook and pencils ready in your hands, you could hear Sanji and Nami in the kitchen quietly speaking. You moved away from the gap in the door, positioning your back against the wall with your ear inline to listen in. You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help after hearing the concern laced in both their voices.
“Nami-swan, we really need to get a stronger lock for the fridge.”
“Sanji-kun, we need to make do with the supplies we have until we get to the next island which won’t be for at least another week.” Nami sighed out heavily.
You frowned at the topic of the conversation, instant guilt seeping in as you felt responsible for the food shortage. You’d outlined that Sanji probably shopped for the 10 of them, an additional person would add strain especially when an appetite like Luffy’s existed. An idea came to mind and you decided to end your eavesdropping. You moved off the wall and peered your head into the kitchen. This caught Sanji and Nami’s attention, both offering bright smiles of welcome to you.
“I’m sorry, I was listening to your conversation. i-I think I can help.” You offered a small apologetic smile.
You explained your idea to use your devil fruit ability to conjure a hole onto an island you visited before from memory that you knew you could get food supplies from. You explained that your ability allowed you to revisit places out of memory or to visit random locations but at your own risk.
At first they both sat in silence thinking of your proposition. Then Sanji protested against the idea and was adamant they could make supplies last till then. Nami counter argued and saw sense in this idea to save them time and strain. Sanji looked at Nami hesitantly before sighing and nodded in agreement.
“Is there anyone you want to bring with us?” You asked Sanji.
“Not at all Y/N-chan, I’ll get ready for our trip.” Sanji said excitedly, his eyes bore hearts at the thought of spending time with you. He danced away to the pantry to get his bags and ready himself for the trip.
“I’ll have someone near the hole ready to take the bags off you guys. I’ll brief the others.” Nami said as she got up and gave you a hug of appreciation.
You hugged her back, grateful for the opportunity to prove yourself to everyone.
You left Nami and Sanji, dropping your sketchbook off back in your shared room. You then headed to the area of the deck where you’d previously made the hole. As you took a deep breath in, clearing your mind and holding your right hand out, you envisioned the other side. You chose to picture a quiet open space of land on an island you’d visited a year ago that you knew would only be a short walk away from the market.
You wouldn’t be able to close the hole until you and Sanji were completely finished so choosing a secluded area was a must away from prying eyes.
With the hole open and ready, you turned back to the door that went below deck to see Sanji approaching you with some empty bags in his hands. Behind him, you could see Nami, Usopp and Brook holding Luffy back. You had to hold back a laugh from the kerfuffle.
With Sanji now standing next to you, you turned to him, gesturing to follow you as you jumped into the hole. As you now stood on what now appeared to now be secluded farm land, the path to the market however remained the same as you’d remembered it. You looked at Sanji who now stood next to you, smiling before pointing to the pathway as you started walking. Sanji briefly stood in awe at the hole, the coolness of the smoke clouds prickling his skin.
“Ohhh Y/N-chan is so talented! MELLORINE.” Sanji sang out, taking out his box of cigarettes from his pocket to pull out a smoke as he started walking to catch up with you. You were usually not a fan of the cigarette smell but you became quite used to it and found yourself thinking that it would be quite weird not to smell smoke from Sanji.
You briefly explained to Sanji that they would need to be swift as keeping the hole open for long periods of time would affect your energy reserve. With this, Sanji vowed to do his best, zooming past you on the path to the marketplace that could be seen from their current distance.
Meanwhile…
“Witch let go of me.” Zoro keened forward, teeth bared out and his ear hot and sore from Nami pulling him from it. He just wanted to nap. Nami stomped forward, her grip still tight on Zoro’s right ear towards the hole you left on the deck. Zoro noticed the hole, feeling a sense of panic twinge him at the thought you were behind the hole.
Both reaching the edge of the hole, Nami let go of Zoro and pushed him down to sit on the floor.
“Now you’re going to sit here and wait for Y/N and Sanji to come back. You should be grateful, your wife offered to help us out.” Nami lectured, and Zoro let out a ‘ha?’ despite being completely aware of what was going on. He’d overheard Nami briefing everyone and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it despite feeling slightly grateful that you offered to help.
“Why do I have to do it? Isn’t it Jinbe’s turn to help anyway?” Zoro argued, rubbing his hand against his ear to soothe it.
“That's when we get to the next island and quite frankly I’m fed up of watching you avoid Y/N like she's diseased. Now you wait here and if I see you even moved an inch you’ll be sorry.” Nami threatened with her fist balled to his face before walking away, briefly turning her head back to dart threats from her eyes.
He huffed, sulking as he crossed his arms and sat cross legged against the ship. Since his duel with you, he avoided you. Whilst Zoro had accepted that you and him were married, his mind in his resolve that he didn’t want to commit himself to anything or anyone but his ambitions. What he couldn’t explain was the dull ache he felt in his chest whenever he was actively avoiding you and seeing the brief displays of disappointment that flickered on your face. He was adamant it wasn’t guilt or regret. He rarely felt those emotions and when he did, they were much stronger. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was but he chose to ignore it.
Time had passed and Zoro was feeling restless, becoming more annoyed that it was you and especially the shitty cook he was waiting on.
“Fuck this.” Zoro angrily mumbled to himself.
On a whim, he sat up on his knees and decided to crouch over to stick his head in the hole to see for himself what the hold up was. He briefly felt a chill run down his cheeks and neck as he plunged his head into the clouds of smoke.
Now Zoro was rarely surprised. He hadn’t anticipated that as his head reached the other side of the hole he would come face to face with you on the other side. His breathing halted, voice choked in his throat holding back any sound as his eye met with yours. He noticed how wide your eyes were with shock, you clearly hadn’t anticipated seeing anything come through the hole. He was so close in fact, he could feel the warmth radiating from your face onto his from the flush of pink that bloomed on the apples of your cheeks.
After a few more seconds, he quickly shot his head back out of the hole, landing on his bum as his whole face burned with embarrassment. He didn’t have quite enough time to recover his breath completely before noticing a masculine hand poking through the hole with a bag in grip. Zoro jumped into action and reached out to grab the bags, setting them to the side until all the bags were collected.
Once the bags were set and he thought it was over, out of the corner of his eye he noticed you trying to emerge through the hole, your smaller hands were gripping on the edge of the deck. He sensed you were struggling and before he could stop himself Zoro stood up, grabbed your wrists and pulled you out of the hole, bringing you to stand in front of him.
You were too embarrassed, trying your best to avoid his eye. He noticed the flush that was still painted on your cheeks. His eye traced over your features briefly, noticing the smoothness of your skin and the thick curl of your lashes. You could feel his gaze on you and eventually built up your courage to look up at him. His large frame towering over yours as your eye bore into his grey iris. Your eyes flickered to his scar, you’d been tempted to trace over it with your fingertips. You’d wondered what exactly happened to his eye but despite that, you couldn’t deny that it added to his ever-growing handsomeness.
You gave him a small smile but didn’t quite get enough time to thank him before Sanji jumped up from the hole, anger evident on his face as he walked to stand in front of the swordsman.
“Oi marimo, what the fuck were you thinking? You almost gave Y/N a heart attack with that stunt!” Sanji began shouting.
“None of your damn business cook.” Zoro bit back angrily.
You reluctantly moved away from Zoro and Sanji, their impending fight would surely go on for some time as you turned your attention to the open hole.
Once the hole was closed, you slowly sat down on the deck and laid back with your eyes closed, your attempt to hold onto the last bit of energy dissipated.
Zoro didn’t know what made his mind wander back to you during his argument with the cook. His eye had gone past the blonde hair to see you lying on the floor. Abruptly ending his petty fight with Sanji, Zoro walked past the cook to go over to you. Sanji looked back at the swordsman fuming, clearly not satisfied with the ending to their fight. Upon seeing you on the floor and realising why Zoro stopped, a quiet ‘shit’ came out of Sanji as he also made his way over to you.
“Y/N-chan, are you okay?” Sanji asked worriedly.
You looked up to see Sanji and Zoro watching you. You politely nodded, not wanting to make a fuss.
“I’m okay, I just need a min-oof.” Cut off mid sentence, Zoro picked you up bridal style and carried you over the deck towards the girls cabin ignoring the cooks swearing behind him. Zoro really didn’t understand what possessed him to do this. It was like his mind lost control and it had been pure instinct that led him to this.
You let him carry you, all your energy was spent and you were too lethargic to protest against it. You had to stop yourself from snuggling your face into his chest, remembering how much you missed being close to him. You ended up hearing a couple ‘ooos’ coming from Nami and Usopp.
‘You didn’t even know they were watching you…how embarrassing!’ You mentally groaned knowing Nami would definitely tease you about this later.
The sounds across the ship dimmed as Zoro continued to head under the deck.
After a quick wrong turn and correction in direction, Zoro finally made it to the girls cabin. He pushed the door open with his back and walked over to the first bed he saw. He gently laid you down, carefully unfastening your sword from your waist and leaning it against the bedside table. Your head hit and slowly sunk into the pillow, your head and body feeling heavy. Before you could say anything, Zoro grunted out a quick ‘thank you for the food trip’ and left the room swiftly. You couldn’t do anything but stare at the door he left. The exhaustion kicked in, lulling you to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.
After closing the door, Zoro’s grip on the door handle tightened.
‘Why did I do that?!’
Zoro thought, questioning himself.
Zoro felt overwhelmed and decided he needed a drink.
————————————- ⚔️✨ ————————————
Night fell as you slept peacefully for what you predicted was at least a few hours. The abrupt sound of breakage and shouting, hearing unfamiliar voices was what woke you from your slumber. Opening your eyes without letting yourself blink out the sleep, your adrenaline kicked in as you rushed out of bed and grabbed your sword. You slammed the door open, letting it hit the wall behind as you ran out to the deck to see the commotion. What you could only describe the scene unfolding in front of you was chaos; the Sunny had been invaded by pirates! You could see your crew scattered around fighting against the invaders, noticing one of the sails was set on fire that lit the ship in the darkness of the night.
“Oh my god.” You whispered under your breath amongst the sounds of clashes and scrapes of weapons.
Taking a quick breath, you lunged with your sword at a group of unsuspecting pirates quickly bringing them down. You felt the floor vibrate behind you from the sound of running, whipping behind you to see you were almost about to be jumped by another group of pirates until Luffy swung his stretched leg to kick them off the ship into the sea. You looked up to see your captain swinging across the ship like a monkey, truly living up to his name.
As you scanned over the rest of the ship, you saw your crew were holding their own fights until you noticed Chopper was struggling to hold his against another group of pirates. You ran towards him, shouting for him to duck as you slashed the pirates across their chests, dropping one by one to the floor. You quickly glanced down at Chopper to see he was alright, he looked shaken up with tears in his eyes filled with appreciation. Just as you were about to grab him and take him to safety, another pirate walked into your vision.
“Go Chopper, I’ve got this.”
You quickly signaled Chopper to leave as you readied yourself, the young doctor not needing to be told twice as he ran to safety.
Bringing your attention to the pirate who now stood a few feet away in front of you, you noticed he was well kept for a pirate compared to others you had met before. You couldn’t deny he was handsome, his black hair kept short, his strength illuminated through the strong body covered in fine, expensive silk. You didn’t let that distract you as you felt his dark energy practically seeping from him. He held a large, bejeweled royal blue sword in his right hand.
‘Why did he seem so familiar?’
You readied yourself, your sword held strong in your grip. You weren’t going to let him hurt anyone.
“Angel, it doesn’t have to be this way. After all, I’m only here to claim what's mine.” His deep voice resonated out as he grinned.
“Don’t fucking call me angel, who are you?” You angrily bit back as you pointed your sword at him.
“I’m Enver…we’ve met before but you don’t seem to remember me.”
“Why are you here?” You eyed him suspiciously, scouring your memory to try to pinpoint where you could have supposedly met him with no luck.
“Why, I’m here for you.” His voice exhumed confidence. You tried to swallow your anxiety down, feeling acid lodged in your throat and your heart beating faster than it ever had before.
“What do you want with me?” You cautiously persisted, trying to keep your voice from breaking.
He chuckled darkly before taking a step forward and leaning in to face you at your level.
“To be mine.”
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shctupmeg · 5 months
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Finding that gift in time had been quite the endeavour. Morty had been very vocally supportive with Meg about her reconnecting Jewish roots. He was happy to see her filling her life with good things, after all the trauma and the abuse she had endured. No matter whether or not said thing interested him, he wanted to be there for her if she felt like sharing them with him.
He just wished he had realised sooner that you were supposed to get people presents for Hanukkah too. Thankfully his rushed efforts had paid off and he had managed to find something decent on the last day of the festivity.
Having to go through the family butler always made him a little nervous, but that day it was almost unbearable, with his chest already heavy with anxiety. He was really hoping that Meg hadn't thought that he had forgotten or, even worse, that he didn't care.
"Uh, h-hey, sorry for dropping in without a warning, I-I know that you're busy with your grandparents, b-but I just wanted to...I-I got you this!" He stumbled on his words, before thrusting in her hand a rectangular box, hastily wrapped in pink and yellow paper. "I-It's a little silly, but...I-I hope you like it."
The gift would turn out to be a Hanukkah-themed kit to craft bracelets and necklaces, complete with threads, beads and even a pair of earring supports, had Meg chosen to try her hands at those.
"H-Hanukkah sameach, Meg."
[[ And another late Hanukkah ask from Morty! Yes, he went to look up the greeting too xD ]]
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@countlessrealities
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To say meg hadn't been expecting morty's company would be an understatement. She figured they wouldn't be exchanging gifts until christmas rolled around. Judaism was her own personal faith and heritage. She figured morty would have no interest in it. Which included giving her a gift for hanukkah. So this was more than a pleasant surprise.
His presence alone brought a warm smile to the girl's face. Her eyes lighting up as well. She just couldn't help but be elated in the boy's presence. Like their boyfriend he made her really happy. These days meg liked filling her life with people and things that brought her nothing but joy and happiness. Her almost boyfriend was definitely on that list.
"I wasn't expecting you today morty or any of the days of hanukkah really but I'm so glad you came!" Once the gift was pushed into her hands she gave the teen a quick peck on the cheek to show her affection and fondness for him. "This is really sweet. I wasn't expecting a gift from you for this celebration." She explained before unwrapping her gift slowly. She wanted to savour the memory.
She smiled brightly at the sight of the gift once he had explained and once she had unwrapped it fully. Her expression so bright it could light up the night sky. "Morty this is one of the most thoughtful presents I've ever received. Not only did you get me a gift for this holiday but you did your homework." She said with a chuckle before continuing.
"You made an effort to learn about my religion and heritage. You even looked up a saying. It's not silly at all. It's thoughtful and shows just how much you care about me. You really make me feel like one of the luckiest girls in the world." Placing her gift down on the table she kissed him softly on the lips as she grasped at his hands. "Happy hanukkah morty."
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thcmcnstcr · 7 months
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Every. Seat. Had. A. Whoopie. Cushion. Rowan had made sure of it. Every kitchen chair had one hidden under the cushions they'd had to buy because the wooden chairs had been too hard to sit on for too long. Each couch cushion had like four of them tucked underneath. Evan was coming over, and from the texts Rowan had gotten it sounded like it had been a bad day. Well, laughter was the best medicine. And, just in case, they had picked up some take out and rented a movie on their TV. Wasn't long until the door opened. "Heeyyy," they greeted gently. Rowan enveloped her in a hug, "come on, I have take out and two ears for listening about the bitches in class." The demi-god led her to the couch, but didn't sit down themself. They waited for her to take the first seat. (xD)
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✧・゚: *✧・゚— The day had started out bad and had only gotten worse as the hours ticked by. She'd slept the night before, so she was more well rested, but that also meant that she'd woken up screaming, as per usual. It'd been one of her torture dreams, the worst of the many recurring nightmares she had. After trying to set the mood right afterwards with a hot cup of homemade pumpkin spice coffee, she'd gone to class to find out she was paired in a project with someone who hated her, and then in the next she'd gotten an answer wrong on a test, dropping her score to a 98. Most might not care about that last one, but for her? Oh, it was the last straw. She'd cried a little on her walk to Rowan's about it, actually.
Leaning into their arms, she had a hard time not bursting into tears again, but she held them in. And now she had to eat? Still, despite her growing anxiety about that, she nodded wordlessly, fearing she might cry if she spoke.
She plopped herself down on the couch, and immediately regretted it. Panic was written on her face for a moment before it dawned on her that she would know if she'd actually farted. And then she started crying— well, she was laughing, too, but little sobs made their way out between giggles.
"I know this is confusing. S-sorry, today's been a lot," she admit through her confusing display of emotions, "I promise this is hilarious."
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People who wanna act all performative claiming g3 is superior to g1 are so funny to me it's like:
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if you think g3 Draculauara counts as "fat" and are in any way upset about that then you have an eating disorder, g1 had disability rep too. and Frankie could already be disabled and trans depending on how you look at her, and so could Ghoulia, also Ryder Wake Exists, silly people ether calling g1 monster high ableist for monsters having basic monster features or flat out denying that any disability coding could be there exist also, g3 is already racist and homophobic as shit, and g1 was already camp and has the comics now ...
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Tell that to my fucking bank account and my anxiety trying to get The Creature From The Black Lagoon today, and again tomorrow... Fancy they had to get up on their soap box to preach this on a day of a Fang Club Exclusive Skullector Drop, though!
3. This grown adult calling people ableist for clout and yet self identifying as a "rawr XD" Scene Kid TM with a color palette on their blog that could trigger someones seizures is what set me off as a disabled person ... Like I'm sorry that g3 had to be OOC and ugly and Performative Corporate Woke TM as shit instead of just rebooting with an entirely new cast of characters to do that with but don't at me! 💀
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gloryride · 1 year
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16, 23, 28 for the couple questions. For either (or both) your ships. :-)
That was two months ago and I'm sorry XD I had started to write, then I lost track of time … I answer today
And for my two ships ♥
16/ How do they react when the other is upset? How do they try to help?
VANESSA/VALENTIN
Answered HERE
VIRGILE/PANAM
If Panam is upset, Virgile will leave her alone. He knows that she needs time to cool down and not take it out on the whole world. Then, when he feels she's calmer, he goes to see her, saying nothing, just to let her know that he's there for her. If it's upset in a sad way, there's nothing better than a hug, in both cases. Words are sometimes useless, gestures have more meaning for them. And being in someone's arms helps them to relax, calm down and feel better.
23/ What was their first impression of each other?
VANESSA/VALENTIN
This POST is their first meeting ♥
But in a few words, it was different for both of them: Valentin fell in love at first sight, even if he didn't understand his feelings; and Vanessa hated him, finding him arrogant, and just because he was a former corpo. She then ignored him the next few times, while he kept smiling, hoping she'd look at him ^^. I've got to get on with their story, it's going to be a lot of fun!
VIRGILE/PANAM
They met because Panam needed an itinerary for a job with Rogue. Nix advised her to call Virgile. She wasn't nice on the phone, her coldness hiding anxiety about this risky gig. Virgile found her cold and rude, she found him boring and distant. They disliked each other so much that the second time, she just sent him a message asking him to drop the information off at Nix. What brought them together? Alcohol and the loneliness of being two nomads lost in the city … but that's another story …
26/ How are they with PDA?
VANESSA/VALENTIN
They're both tactile, especially Vanessa. A hand on his, on his thigh, in his hair, she touches him without even realising it. And Valentin likes to caress her soft skin, her arm or her thigh, her cheek sometimes. And sometimes you can see her sitting on his lap, flirting and then kissing. What if there are people around? They don't care!
VIRGILE/PANAM
Virgile is very needy, it's almost a compulsive need to show her affection. Sometimes he holds back so as not to suffocate her or encroach too much on her vital space. But he loves having her in his arms, touching her, kissing her on the mouth or neck! Panam is a little more reserved in public, sometimes kissing Virgile when he's working, or just brushing his hand when they meet in the camp. She prefers moments of affection in private, or at the end of the evening when she snuggles up to Virgile on the sofa.
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ijwrff · 3 years
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If you are taking requests, May I have a Yandere Anti fic? Maybe one where the reader is hella shy and a big history nerd(like myself 👉👈)and they like rocks,sticks,and are basically Goblin brained? Thank you 👉👈
I can’t remember if this was before or after I opened requests so I wrote it anyways XD hope you enjoy! 
You were anxious. You always got anxious meeting new people, but you knew you had to meet him. Anti. He was the last septic you had to meet. You’ve even met Angus at this point. 
You’d been friends with Jackie first, after he helped you when someone tried to steal your wallet. He saved you, and you were grateful for him. Since then, you’ve met the rest of his family. All but Anti. 
He was rarely home, always busy doing something. The others have warned you he can be...difficult to get along with. Which only served to make you more anxious about your meeting. 
Jackie pulled you out of your thoughts, “It’ll be okay! He’s a softie at heart.” He knew of your anxiety meeting new people, and gradually introduced you to the members of his family. You were anxious to meet all of them, but they all responded well and eased your anxieties. All of them you’ve met have been kind and understanding. 
“He’s an asshole, don’t lie. Lying will only make them more anxious.” Marvin pitched in, and successfully made your anxiety worse. 
“Um...I don’t know if I can do this…” You didn’t want to skip out on meeting Anti, but the septics weren’t helping. 
Jackie put his hand on your shoulder, “It’ll be fine! If he’s mean to you I'll speak up. You don’t have to meet him alone, we’re here for you!” He was ready for you to meet his last brother, even if he could be mean at times. Jackie truly believed he was a good person, but he would admit he could be cruel at times. If he was mean to his friend...he wouldn’t remain quiet. 
Jackie, Marvin, JJ and Robbie were there with you. Angus was away on his latest adventure, and Schneep was working. Chase was out with his kids, or he’d be there with you too. 
JJ seemed almost as anxious as you...apparently they’ve had a lot of fights in the past. He confided in you about them, and it fueled your anxiety. If Anti could get into bad fights with his own family...what if he had fights with you?
Before you could leave the front door opened...and there he stood. Adorned with ripped black jeans and a solid black shirt. His green hair flowed, and you couldn’t help but think...he’s gorgeous. 
You decided to speak first, “did you know turkeys were revered as gods by the mayan people?” Shit...you got nervous and gave a fun history fact instead of introducing yourself again. “Um...sorry. I really like history. I’m y/n.” You held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t move. 
Awkwardly you pulled your hand back, but he reached out and grabbed it at the last minute. “Anti.” 
“Welcome back!” Jackie pulled him into a hug, and it looked like Anti wanted to be anywhere else in the world. 
“Oh! I got you a gift!” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a shimmering green rock. It was how you showed your love, giving your friends rocks that remind you of them. You thought it would be a good gift to give to Anti. 
He reached out and took the rock. “Thanks.” He kept his responses short and sweet, and the others looked surprised that he even said thank you. Apparently he wasn’t one to do such. 
“I’m going to my room, don’t bother me.” Without another word, Anti left to go to his room. 
“Well…” Jackie started once Anti was gone, “that could have been a lot worse.” 
“Told you he was an ass.” Marvin got up from his chair and walked away. 
“Do you...think he doesn’t like me?” You voiced your worries and Jackie instantly reassured you. 
“He doesn’t like a lot of people, he just needs to get to know you more!” He gave you a smile then went to the kitchen to make lunch for you all. 
JJ smiled at you before walking to his own room, leaving you with Robbie. 
“He...not good about feelings.” You smiled at Robbie, pulling him into a hug. 
“Thanks Robbie.” You knew he was just trying to comfort you. You pulled away from the hug and followed him to the tv so you could play videogames together. 
That was a couple weeks ago. And since then, you’ve given Anti sticks, rocks, and shiny things. It was how you expressed your feelings. And for some reason...Anti hasn’t left again. It seems like whenever you were at the septics house, he was there too. 
You found yourself visiting more often than usual, enjoying the time you got to spend with Anti. Today was different though...he seemed more...on edge. 
“Anti...is something wrong? You seem distant…” You had grown more comfortable with him since visiting more, and you wouldn’t lie...you were developing a crush on the septic. 
“No. Drop it.” That made you even more concerned. 
“Are you sure…? I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.” You just wanted him to know you were someone safe to confide in. 
He grunted and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards his room. 
“Anti...why are we going to your room?” Maybe he wanted to be out of the open to open up. He didn’t confide in his brothers much from what you could see...maybe he didn’t want to talk about it when they could walk in at any moment. 
He opened the door and pulled you inside. It was the first time seeing his room. It reflected him a lot, many dark colors. But what surprised you was all of the items you’ve given him out on display. You honestly didn’t think he’d keep them. But apparently he valued the gifts, enough to display them on his desk. 
“You...stop caring about me. It’s dangerous for you.” He wouldn’t deter you that easily. 
“I can’t. And even if it’s dangerous...i’d like to stay friends.” Even if you secretly wanted more. 
“What if I don’t want to be friends?” The words broke your heart, and he saw the pain on your face, instantly continuing, “I want to be more. But I’ll hurt you. I know I will.” 
“I can handle it. I can make my own decisions.” You looked up at him, determined. 
“Tch...you’re not very good at making decisions then.” He had yet to let go of your arm, and you thought he might just enjoy the contact. 
You reached over and held his hand, “What if I choose you?” 
He grunted, and pulled you over to the bed, laying you down and hovering over you. “You shouldn’t. You have no idea what you’re getting into.” 
“Then tell me...what makes you so dangerous?” 
He didn’t respond, and leaned down, lips connecting with your neck. It made you gasp, and a blush crawled onto your face.
“Anti…” he growled at the word. 
“Don’t say my name like that…I can’t be held responsible for the consequences.” He bit your neck gently, and you almost laughed at how gentle he was being.  
“You have to tell me what makes you so dangerous.” 
“If you were mine...you’d be mine and only mine. I wouldn’t let anyone else look at you. I’d mark you so everyone knows you’re mine.” He bit harder, before sucking on the skin gently, effectively giving you a hickey. 
“What if I want to be yours anyways?” You felt bold for just a moment, and the words came out before you could stop them. 
Anti growled once again and leaned back, taking a good look at your red face before leaning back down and pulling you into a kiss. 
It was passionate, and more gentle than you thought possible. You kissed back with the intent of showing your feelings through it. Still...it made your face red. You were kissing your crush, of course you’d be red in the face. 
“I want you...but if we do this...you can’t be with anyone else. You have to be mine. I don’t even want my brothers around you. I want you to be mine.” 
“Then do it...make me yours.” You leaned up and pulled him into another kiss, this one rougher than before. 
You would be his...forever. He would never let you go. He meant every word. You would be his and only his. 
126 notes · View notes
morkleemelon · 3 years
Text
off the ice || chapter 3: steady now
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previous || m.list || playlist || next
pairing: college hockey player! mark x college figure skater! reader
genre: fluff, humor, college au, sports au
word count: 6.9k
warnings: swearing, party with drugs and alcohol, scene of borderline harassment (nothing actually happens), financial struggle, insecurity, social anxiety, mention of injury
a/n: huge thank you to my beta readers @writing-frog​ and @skiimmiilk for helping me edit this! now I won’t have to tweak it a hundred times after posting XD also (not spoiling) I’m sorry I did you like this, sungchan :(
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I’m not sure if I’m awake, dead, or dreaming, but somebody please take me out of this misery.
Your neck struggled to support your head as you fought to stay conscious on the locker room bench. It was early Saturday morning and team practice was far from over. Unwillingly, you had to stay up the previous night, studying deep into the AM because a certain boy kept distracting you in your head.
Over and over again, through your shift at the diner to the ride home to right here as you clung onto Yuna’s arm for support, Mark’s cute smile and Lisa’s daring accusations spun through your tired mind. It’s really not fair- a guy talks to you once and you’re already imagining things…
You quickly shake the thoughts from your head. 
  “Alright girls, thanks for coming in so early today,” your head skating coach, Tanya, smiled warmly, “captains, get everyone warmed up and I’ll go over some exciting announcements at the end of practice”.
“Thank you, Tanya,” the fatigued girls chorused half-heartedly as the captains ushered everyone out of the locker room and into the hallway for stretching. 
Reaching down to touch her toes, Yuna looks over to you. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worse than usual”.
The exhausted expression on your face said it all as you bent down to do the same. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Econ test is coming up too”. You yawned into your words.
“I know you’re gonna say no, but if you wanna let loose a little, there’s a party tonight,” Yuna peers at you upside-down from in between her legs.
“You know I’m not a party person,” you decline, blacking out slightly as you stand back up. You blink to clear your vision.
As much as you admired your popular best friend for putting herself out there and being able to have fun at a party, it couldn’t be you. The drinking, the smoking, the groping, ogling men- not to mention the anxiety of existing in a frat house full of judgmental people, was all too much for you. As tempting as letting loose a little on a Saturday night sounded, you’d much rather do it in a way that involves your cozy pj’s and watching your favorite skating compilations on YouTube. Alone.
“I know, I know,” Yuna holds her hands up innocently, “but it could be fun. I know Mark is gonna be there”.
You whip your head around so fast that your ponytail nearly slaps her in the face. Flustered, you smooth down the nonexistent wrinkles on the front of your skating jacket. “Oh, that’s nice. What’s that got to do with me?”.
“Just letting you know,” Yuna shrugged in a ‘matter of fact’ manner. 
The captains led the team out to the rink to do laps. You weighed Yuna’s words for a minute as you skated across the ice. Naturally, being here where you were the most comfortable with yourself made you more susceptible to her convincing ploy. If you looked at the last few days in review, you had already made four new friends from just letting Yuna take the reins for one afternoon. That’s about one friend for every dollar in your bank account!
But the nagging reality was that Yuna had a massive amount of friends, cool friends, who were probably going to be at that very party while you had nobody but her and a guy you just met. This didn’t sit well with your anxieties. You’ll just end up awkward if Yuna wants to talk to someone else, or desperate if you cling to Mark, who would probably be weirded out.
As expected, it’s best to stay in.
The practice ran smoothly. As always, the hour and a half of spinning, falling, and getting back up resulted in soreness and loss of breath. Nonetheless, it recharged you and the cloud of tiredness in your head finally dissipated. You felt so free on the ice because you knew that you did it well. It isn’t about the money or your popularity or if you have to work part time just to afford the skates that you wear. If you put in the hard work and effort, you are rewarded with success; that’s a big part of what you liked about it. 
“Excellent job today, ladies. I’d like everyone to give a special round of applause to y/n today,” Coach Tanya suddenly singled you out as the team gathered around to hear her ending announcements. Tanya gave you a warm smile and gestured towards you as you bow to your clapping teammates. “For mastering the triple lutz. I can tell you’ve been practicing extra hours, both from the log sheet and from your performance today. At this rate, we may send you to nationals in the spring”.
Gasps echo across the cold, near-empty stadium. Your jaw hung open at Tanya’s ambitious plan and Yuna grabbed onto your arm excitedly, giving you a nudge of congratulations. It was extremely rare for a sophomore to be sent to the national competitions. Even some seniors never make it past the pre-auditions at Seoul University alone. You weren’t even dreaming of going within the next year despite all of your extra night-time practices. Looking at Tanya’s face, it didn’t seem like she was joking either.
“Thank you, Coach Tanya. I will work even harder”.
“That being said, I have some exciting news pertaining to all of you ladies: this year, Seoul University is sponsoring our team to hold a friendly competition for the winter festival as a sort of main event. Don’t be alarmed because it is optional. It’s September now, so if you are interested in participating, you will have just under four months to prepare a pair skate for the festival in December. Untraditionally, the audience will be voting to choose a winner instead of a panel. Furthermore, the theme, costumes, and music will all be up to you, so have fun with it! Oh and not to mention, the winning pair will be rewarded a monetary prize of $5,000 each”.
Shocked looks were exchanged between teammates. Your brain was still processing to make sure you heard Tanya right as she reiterated.
“Yes,” Tanya laughed, “you heard me right, girls, $5,000 each. It’s a tremendous opportunity and if not for the money, for a chance to practice performing in front of a crowd”.
Murmurs of excitement hush across the near-empty stadium.
“Yuna,” you look up to the taller girl and grip her arm with both hands, “Yuna please we gotta do this”. You shake her slightly with your pleading, “be my partner?”.
The blonde giggled, “duh, of course! Lisa and Hope will probably do it together since they’re both on JV so it’s perfect. Let’s get that ten grand for you!”.
“Wait no, but-”
“Y/n. You know I’m not about to argue with you about this,” Yuna sighed, looking up to the fluorescent ceiling lights to avoid your indignant stare. You relaxed your grip on her arm, knowing that you wouldn’t win this fight no matter how guilty you felt. “You’re better than me by a long shot. If anyone could bet on a winner, they’d put their money on you without a doubt. And if we win it’ll be because of you, so think of it as a fair split based on contribution. I’ll take a $20 cut to buy us dinner,” Yuna encouraged. 
You close your eyes and rest the side of your head on her shoulder.
That’s my best friend. I don’t deserve her.
You felt bad, but you knew that you needed this money more than anything right now. Your parents didn’t earn much and they were already burdened by this semester’s tuition, even with the scholarships. Picking up extra shifts at Frankie’s did little more than cover skating fees and rent. The heavy, looming fear of next semester being the one when you’d have to drop out often kept you up at night. It’s nobody’s fault, but that’s how it is.
Yet like a miracle angel sent from Heaven, this competition could cover an entire semester’s worth of tuition if you win. You needed the prize money desperately. You were going to have to win it no matter what.
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“Bye!”. You waved to your teammates as they exited the locker room, probably to go out and be social on a Saturday afternoon. Unfortunately for you, your only plans were to sit alone at the library, studying.
“You seriously don’t wanna join us for lunch today?”. Yuna slung her skating bag over her shoulder. Her wet hair from just showering stuck to her face, but even like this she looked like she could be on the cover of a teen magazine.
“I’ll pass. I can grab a salad from the convenience store before I head to the library. Midterms are coming up and I gotta do a lot of review,” you explain, brushing a wide comb through your tangled mess of hair. Yuna moved to pull her hair back into a ponytail. You watched as her perfectly sculpted reflection made an action so simple into a reason for envy. The stained locker room mirror, however, did your bare face no favors. Your best friend remained oblivious as you picked yourself apart again. Your cheeks were a little too round, nose a little too wide, eyebrows a little too uneven. You shove the brush in your bag and turn around before you could fall deeper in insecurity. “Let’s go”.
As always, you chose to disregard your insecure thoughts and pretend like they never existed. Talking about it seemed weird, so you just chose not to do it. And you didn’t like bothering other people with your problems either. It was best to just keep it to yourself. 
“Y/n!,” a familiar voice called out from behind you. You stopped walking down the stadium corridor, turning around to see who could’ve known your name. Usually it’s Yuna getting stopped by one of her many friends.
Ashy blonde hair came into view as the boy jogged to catch up with you. Your legs were doing just fine after over an hour and a half of training, but they trembled at the sight of a certain dreamy junior boy.
“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Mark smiled down at you, the dim hallway lights catching on his cheekbones and jawline, accentuating his beautifully sculpted features. 
“I’ll see you later,” Yuna winked, patting you on the back and making a break for the exit before you could protest.
“I-uh, hey, Mark,” you stutter. Was it just you or did he get even more good-looking since the last time you saw him?
“Did you guys just get out of practice?”. You could hardly pay attention to his simple question as you checked him out. Mark sported a simple outfit consisting of a plain black hoodie with matching black joggers and sneakers. His red hockey bag which was slung across his back was supported by one of his thumbs. With the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, you watch as the lines of his forearm muscles shift and strain with each fine movement from the weight of the duffel.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah! We did,” you answer after an awkward pause. Oh, God, please let that not have been weird. “Are you here for your practice?”. You mentally slap yourself for your stupid question; he’s wearing gym clothes and has his hockey gear, what else was he going to do at the rink?
“Yeah, I am,” Mark laughed good-naturedly, leaning slightly on the wall next to you, “I came here a bit early, actually. I was hoping to catch you”.
Catch...me?
Your face flushed at his heart-fluttering remark. Contesting with the urge to spontaneously burst into flames, you try your best to give a steady reply, “Oh! What for?”.
“I-uh,” Mark diverted his gaze down to his shoes, “I know I got your number from the group chat, but I wanted to ask you in person. There’s a party tonight at the sheep’s house- my friend’s house- and I was wondering if I was gonna see you there”.
You simultaneously wanted to sink into the floor to disappear forever and jump into the air to celebrate. You did neither. 
Was he asking you out? Not really. But then again, he wants to see you there at the party. And he came here early to specially ask you in person. 
You replay the debate you had with Yuna earlier. Past-you had made some valid points about not going, but how could you say no when he put it like this?… oh, fuck it.
“For sure. I’ll be there”. You offer a wry smile to try to cover your nervousness.
“Awesome,” Mark’s eyes twinkled as he smiled, “can’t wait to see you tonight, then”. 
“Can’t wait,” you echoed. You couldn’t help but notice how he was a few inches taller and you had to tilt your head back to meet his soft, brown eyes.
“I should probably get down to the rink to set up for practice”
“Oh okay! Don’t let me keep you”
“Not at all”. His fingers shifted to adjust the strap of his hockey bag and your eyes brushed over the ripple of his forearm. He was doing the bare-minimum and your knees were ready to buckle in the middle of the hallway. 
“I’ll get going then!,” you excuse yourself with a curt wave. Turning around, you head briskly for the exit before you could embarrass yourself further and agree to more irrational proposals. 
Before your hand could even touch the exit door to let yourself out, reality hit.
Oh no. I have to go to the party.
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Yuna squealed and pounced you onto your bed as you told her the news. “I can’t believe it! You’re really gonna go?”.
You run a stressed hand through your wavy locks, “I guess? He didn’t leave me much of a choice”. Rolling around on your bed, your best friend clapped and cheered despite your wanting to travel back in time and tell Mark you couldn’t make it. But how were you supposed to say no to that face? Thanks to this, your library study session was far from focused or helpful.
“We gotta get you looking hot, y/n. I mean, you’re already hot,” Yuna corrected, “but even more hot for your first college party”.
Hopping off your now messed-up covers, you go to observe yourself in the full-body mirror in all your said ‘hotness’. You were currently enveloped in a grouchy oversized tee shirt that you got from a choir field trip in high school paired with plain gym shorts hidden underneath. Your hair was especially frizzy from being air-dried after your shower. 
“The only hot I am is a hot mess,” you groaned. Did you look like this when Mark saw you earlier? Shit.
“Nonsense, silly,” Yuna hugged you from behind, “you’re adorable and you’d be surprised how much hair, makeup, and a good fit can change someone”. She looked into your eyes eagerly through the mirror as if asking for permission. You were too nervous about the party to deny her so you gave your roommate a reluctant nod. It was better that she helped you get ready so you could fit in and thus blend into the background.
Squealing again, Yuna gave you a squeeze and scurried to flit through her closet for something you could wear. 
“Go straighten your hair, y/n!”
“Yes ma’am”. This much you could do. “How’s this?”. Yuna held up a skimpy bralette top, its white lace barely covering any surface area at all. 
“That’s a top?!”
“Ok nevermind”. Tossing the tiny piece aside, your roommate continued sifting earnestly through her collection of expensive clothes.
You ran the straightener through your partitioned hair carefully. 
“What about this one?”. Yuna held up a simple red crop top. A small notch ran an inch down the neckline which gave it a little edge, but it seemed like it would be in your comfort zone.
“That’s perfect,” you smile.
Hair now pin straight and finally smooth, you change into the red top and ripped black denim shorts Yuna picked out for you. Your best friend was much better at makeup than you were, so you let her take the lead once again. The only times you wear full makeup are for performances and you would look like a complete clown if you showed up with the two inch eyeliner you knew how to do. 
Applying a small amount of base makeup to your face, Yuna went for a more natural look, knowing that you weren’t comfortable with standing out too much. Subtle brown eyeshadow and lengthening mascara made your eyes pop just the right amount and a cherry lip balm tinted your lips a translucent, shiny red. Even you had to admit your confidence was boosted from the new look you weren’t used to seeing in the mirror. 
That’s me. I’m… kind of pretty
“Aw, honey, you look so beautiful,” Yuna cooed, wrapping up your makeover with a clap. She did her own makeup effortlessly and put on the discarded bralette from earlier. However ridiculous it looked on the hanger, she made it look like a million bucks and it suited her perfectly. 
You moved to sit on your bed and lace up your trusty white sneakers. Yuna wore a bigger shoe size than you which came as a relief because you weren’t sure if you could handle wearing any of the daring stiletto pumps in her collection. 
“You know, I’m so happy you’re going to come this time. I was always really sad when you stayed home studying every weekend instead of going out and having fun”.
“I would’ve gone if I knew how to talk to people,” you reason, picking at the dirty aglet of your shoelace, “and I’m honestly really nervous right now. You better not leave me, okay?”.
“You’re so sweet and thoughtful, anyone would be lucky to talk to you! I know it’s easier said than done, but you’d be surprised what a little confidence will do. And of course, I won’t leave you”. Yuna gave you a bright, reassuring smile before pulling you off the bed. 
You take one last look at your reflection in the mirror.
That’s right, confidence. I’m confident.
“Let’s go”
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The walk down to the party was much shorter than you expected. Turns out, the ‘Sheep’ lived in that sketchy house just off of campus which you made a point to avoid during your nighttime jogs. The tables were turning as you approached the rickety front porch on purpose. You clung to Yuna as an array of neon lights shines through the window blinds and the open door. The bass of a generic pop song jolted through your bones. 
Walking into the home, your grip on Yuna’s arm tightened as unfamiliar faces surrounded you. The crowded room stank of sweaty bodies and weed. A countertop stocked full of red solo cups and different types of alcohol was visible from where you stood. Heads turned to stare at Yuna while the two of you entered.
What am I doing here?
“Hey, you made it!,” an unfamiliar voice shouted from over the ruckus. Your eyes fell nervously on the voice’s owner. He had dark brown hair and sharp, defined features. His accent was strange, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 
“Hey!”. Yuna brought the stranger in for a loose hug. “Yangyang, this my roommate and best friend, y/n. Y/n this is Yangyang also known as ‘the sheep’. He’s from Germany”.
Ah, Germany.
You offer him a small wave, surprised when he pulls you unexpectedly into a hug. 
“Nice to meet you, y/n. Mark’s told me all about you,” Yangyang smirked, “please help yourself to drinks, girls. The guys are in the basement playing pong”.
“Woo! Let’s get wasted!” Yuna yelled while pulling you towards the drinks.
You stood awkwardly at her side as she poured both of you drinks- a half a solo cup of strawberry vodka for her and a sprite zero for you. You wish you could be in bed, curled up alone with a good movie. Or even at the library studying-
“Hey,” a deep voice right next to your ear wrecked your train of thought. Alarmed, your eyes were met with the middle of a chest as you turned around to see who it was. Craning your head back, an unfamiliar, tall boy with stiffly-gelled brown hair looked down at you. You winced at the acrid smell of axe body spray now flooding your nostrils. He looked young, maybe even younger than you, but he was clearly very drunk. “Where have you been all my life?”.
“Excuse me?,” you exclaim over the booming music. The boy placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his arms. Looking over to find Yuna, she had already shifted deeper into the crowd and was busy talking with other people. 
“I’m Sungchan,” the boy unwelcomingly introduced, “what’s your name, beautiful?”.
“I-uh I’m y/n,” you stuttered. Sungchan’s face was way too close for comfort and his breath stank of cheap alcohol. You felt his humid exhalation brush over the top of your head like a toxic cloud and you fought to not gag.
“Y/n. You come here with anyone?”. You pressed your back as far into the counter as you could to get away from him, but there was little room to go. Fear began to set in as you realized you were trapped. What should I say? What do I do?
“I-I…” 
“She came here with me”. A firm hand gripped Sungchan’s left arm and yanked it forcefully away from the counter. Your saving grace put a gentle hand on your shoulder, tugging you slightly away from the drunk perpetrator. Struggling to comprehend what was happening, you looked up to see it was Mark, staring the intoxicated boy down. 
“C-captain”
“What’s a freshman doing with my girl?” Mark pressed. His expression was unamused. 
Your heart trembled at his unanticipated lie. His girl? Mark brushed a reassuring thumb over your shoulder, clueing to you that he would handle this. 
“I didn’t know, I-”
“Sungchan, right? You still trying to make varsity next year?,” Mark interrupted, eyebrows raised in annoyance at the freshman. Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he held both hands up innocently.
“Y-yes I-”
“Misconduct can get you kicked off the team, you know. Not to mention I’ll be senior captain next year so I’ll have a say in who makes it into varsity”.
“I’m sorry, captain, I really didn’t-”
“Fuck off”. Mark gestured his free hand towards the open front door. Sungchan looked around, as if unsure what to do. The surrounding party-goers danced and drank on, unaware of the altercation and more interested in who they were going home with tonight. Finally, the lanky boy’s head cleared enough to make a decision. Sungchan bowed slightly in apology and stumbled towards the exit. The untouched solo cup of sprite fizzed in your shaking hands.
“Are you okay?”. Mark faced you with a concerned look.
You clenched your grip tighter around your drink as you fought back tears, the shock wearing off and the gravity of the situation hitting you full-on. You set the cup down and shake your head no.
“Do you want to get out of here?”.
You nod your head vigorously and tears began streaming down your cheeks. What a waste, all of Yuna’s hard work down the drain. Mark nudged you forward and guided you towards a back door. Weaving your way through the crowd, Mark greeted his friends with a “hey” or a simple nod. You felt a few girls eye you discontentedly at the sight of Mark’s hand ghosting over the small of your back while others were too high or drunk to notice. The cool night air welcomed you as Mark urged you outside and you rushed to escape the cramped house. He shut the door behind him, muffling the heavy bass so you could finally hear yourself think.
Dabbing away at your tears so he wouldn’t see, you breathe deeply to regain your composure. 
“Thanks for that”. You managed to let out after a few minutes of sniffling and silence. Your voice was slightly hoarse and you couldn’t meet his eyes, but he waited patiently by your side. 
So much for coming to this party, he probably thinks I’m a mess. This whole thing was a huge mistake. 
“I think I’ll go. Sorry I can’t stay”. You turn to walk down the wooden porch steps.
“Wait-”. Mark’s voice halts your departure. “Would you like to go on a walk with me? Or I can at least take you home. I don’t want you going out alone after what just happened…”. 
Looking up at him, the dim porch light glowed behind him, giving him a soft golden halo. His brown eyes which were usually smiling now shone with worry as he scanned over your tear-stricken face. Your heart which was beating rapidly from fear earlier began to settle down in his reassuring presence. Being alone right now might not be the best idea. But more importantly, being with him sounded like what you really needed. You nod.
The sound of crickets chirping and sneakers scuffing took over as the two of you walked farther away from the booming music of the party. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you also didn’t know if there was anywhere you wanted to go. Wandering down the deserted streets in comfortable silence, Mark followed you patiently as he waited for you to be ready to talk. Before you knew it, your feet brought you to the lake and you stood watching the water ripple under the night breeze. The moon, almost full, illuminated silver each ebb and flow.
“I’m sorry you’re missing the party”. You quietly broke the silence. You felt bad for making him leave. All of his friends were there and he probably really looked forward to it. 
“Don’t be. I only went so I could talk to you, anyways”
You look at him in surprise. Mark’s eyes remained glued to the lake, sparkling from the reflected moonlight.
“How many girls have you told that to?,” you scoff. Internally, you screamed.
“Couldn’t name another one”
You pause before resolving to stroll further down the lakeside. The sound of footsteps behind you confirmed that he was following. Stopping as you reach the familiar creaky wood, you take a seat on the worn-out dock, him on your right. You dangle your feet over the dark, sloshing waves. It was cool, despite the summer season. A breeze rolled by, making you shudder. However cute the crop top was, it didn’t do much to keep you warm. Not that you could have planned on running away from the party and needing a sweatshirt beforehand.
“Here, take this”. Mark unzipped his jacket to give to you.
“Oh it's ok-”. You couldn’t finish your protest before the warm fabric was draped across your shoulders. Your face grew pink once more. If you didn’t know better, you could be admitted to the hospital for how much you’ve been blushing recently. “Thanks,” you mutter, looking down at your hands with a small smile. 
“Is that Frankie’s?”. Mark’s voice cut through the silence.
“What?”
“Is that Frankie’s?,” Mark repeated, nodding at the small restaurant bordering the lake some distance away. It looked as if it had just closed, yellow fluorescent lights still on while a tired waitress scrubbed away at a table. Only one car, probably her’s, remained in the parking lot.
“Oh, yeah. That’s where I work part time,” you confirmed. “I come here to the dock to sit sometimes. You know, just to think”.
“I feel that. Sometimes everything is way too much to handle and you need to take time to breathe. I have a place like this too”
Mark’s sincere confession came as a surprise to you and unintentionally, it showed on your face.
“What, you don’t believe me?” Mark feigned hurt, putting a hand on his chest. “Do you think hockey guys can’t have feelings too? I have a fan club for heaven’s sake!”.
You laugh at his exaggerated outcry. 
“And that’s a bad thing? Don’t you guys like the attention? Attention from lots and lots of pretty girls”. You raised an eyebrow, teasing him.
“As if,” Mark ran a stressed hand through his hair, “they’re all crazy as hell. Honestly, none of the guys really like the attention”.
You nod in understanding. Seeing how the Lovelees acted the few times you were around them, you’d hate being the subject of their affections too.
“But how about you,” Mark continued, “I haven’t seen you much at parties”.
You let out a sarcastic laugh, “if you couldn’t tell from tonight, I’m not much of a party girl. Today was my first and probably last party”. You had gotten so comfortable walking and talking with Mark that you had almost forgotten about the horrible incident that occurred earlier. Pulling the soft jacket over yourself more, your face falls as you remember Sungchan’s intoxicated face.
“Hey” Mark’s hand grazes over your slumped shoulders, bringing you back to focus on him. “I’ll never let him bother you again”. 
While you were unsure of how your makeup was holding up due to all the crying, his delicate features were all the more beautiful under the pale moonlight. You notice how close you’re sitting, knees almost brushing against each other’s and his face was but inches from yours. And even though you were wearing his jacket so he was left with only a tee shirt, you were sure you weren’t imagining the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, your eyes flutter down to his parted lips.
There it is once more, the hot flush in your cheeks and the strain in your chest. 
Meeting Mark has been a rollercoaster of emotions, but you felt undeniably comfortable sitting next to someone who would’ve been a stranger just a few days ago. Something about him felt familiar to you now and you trusted in his words. He was someone... safe. 
“Really?,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of his soft, pink lips. 
“Really”. His confirmation was too gentle to be heard above the sound of the rushing water below, but you read his lips as they shaped around the word.
Before you know it, you were leaning in, just enough so you knew you weren’t imagining it. A mellow breeze plays with your hair, causing a few strands to fall astray. Cautiously with his hand, Mark slowly tucks the fallen pieces back behind your ear. He hesitates there. The feeling of his warm fingertips sends tingles down your spine. Carefully scanning your expression to make sure you were okay, his hand inches down to gently cup your cheek. “Can I kiss you?”.
You could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, his own not centimeters away. Your heart pounded rapidly as you gave an affirming nod. Closing your eyes, you wait.
This is happening.
A jolting vibration from your pocket caused your eyes to shoot right back open and Mark let go of you in surprise. Your phone kept buzzing, the harsh sound amplified by the wooden dock. Sighing in frustration, you struggle to remove it from your back pocket as Mark looks away, coughing awkwardly. Your face burned red from embarrassment.
Why does this always happen to me?
“Hello?”. Your tone was laced with annoyance.
“Y/n! Where aare youu?,” Yuna slurred. Trap music blared in the background confirming that she was still at the party. You could hear Ten asking if Mark was with you over the ruckus.
“I left. And yeah, Mark is here”. You put the phone on speaker and held it up towards the boy you were about to kiss moments ago. 
“Hey guys,” Mark said sheepishly. Yuna squealed in delight.
“That’s my boy!”. Ten’s booming voice took over the call.
“Stop it man,” Mark warned, increasingly agitated at the couple for ruining the moment.
“Okayy kids! Have fun, but not tooooo much fun”. Yuna giggled into the microphone. 
“I’m hanging up,” you said quickly before pushing the red button to end the call. Any longer and you weren’t sure you could resist throwing your phone (and perhaps yourself) into the lake. A brief moment of silence ensued, both parties unsure of what to do next. Was there anything you could do to save the moment after that? 
“I uh…,” you start.
“Yeah umm…,” Mark agreed. Silence ensued.
“Uhh…”. Your steady tone wavered as you started to giggle. The awkwardness dissipated because before you knew it, both of you were laughing wholeheartedly at the unfortunate situation. 
“Yuna tends to have great timing,” you explain.
“Mm. Ten does too,” Mark related, stroking his chin and nodding as if thinking deeply. 
“She said she wouldn’t leave me at the party but lo and behold”. You gesture to your surroundings, exasperated.
“That sucks,” Mark agreed, “you should have come found me. I was waiting for you, actually”.
“I was going to,” you picked at the zipper of his jacket, “but we had just gotten there when... you know”.
“Yeah. You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you at all, but I’m always willing to listen”
“You’re,” you look for the right words, “you’re so amazing”. 
“Yeah?”
You keep your gaze in your lap, “Yeah. And you know, I wish we’d met earlier, Mark. Because it’s really nice talking to you and you’re a really great guy”. You check for his reaction.
“Yeah, I wish we met sooner too”. His expression was that of… adoration.
Being with Mark was so easy. Conversation came to you two easier than anything else in life did. And just like that, feet swinging in sync above the water, you talked for hours. He told you about his alien conspiracy theories and his aspirations to be a professional hockey player and then retire into sports medicine. You told him about your parents and how you missed them dearly because they worked way out of the city to support you and your dream. You did everything you could to be able to pay them back, even majoring in economics which was more profitable than environmental studies or professional skating. Mark listened thoughtfully and admitted that he related in a lot of ways with his parents being all the way in Canada. 
The night rushed by and the two of you talked until the golden peaks of sunrise painted the water from its usual blue. You had shifted so you were sitting facing each other on the dock. The early sunlight cast a warm glow over Mark’s face. He looked like a painting- a Monet. Or a Renoir.
“Um so, I guess it’s Sunday now”. Mark rested his chin into the crook of his elbow. You could hear the tired in his voice, but you mutually understood that neither of you wanted to leave.
“Do you have to go?”. You picked at a piece of fuzz on the sleeve of his sweatshirt which you were still wearing. The disappointment was evident in your question. Even though you had spent the whole night getting to know each other, it felt like you had just barely scratched the surface. There was still so much more you wanted to talk about. 
Checking his watch, Mark contemplated for a bit. 
“It’s 6:12 a.m. right now. I actually have to get somewhere by 6:30,” Mark explained.
“So early?”
“Yeah it’s… you could come with me if you want?”. His sleepy eyes twinge with hope.
You look to the lake, the sparkling ripples tinted gold with the rising sun. Sunday was usually a rest day for you and you didn’t have anything planned. As fatigued as you felt, everything in you wanted to accept his invitation. You cracked a small smile, getting up to stretch your legs. You hold out a hand to help him up.
“Lead the way”
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“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? This might not be fun for you…”
Mark’s expression was worried as the two of you stood at the entrance of the local church, the doors open and you could see rows of tables and food set up as if ready for people at any minute. The streets were starting to bustle as the world began to wake up. A volunteer from inside the church spotted you, walking out to give his greetings. 
“Mark!,” the man called out as he pulled Mark  in for a warm hug, “good morning!”.
His eyes turned towards you and Mark moved to introduce you. 
“Daniel, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Daniel. We volunteer together here at the church to serve breakfast to the homeless,” Mark disclosed.
“Nice to meet you, Daniel”. You shake his hand with a smile. Gosh, I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t even get to change or take off the makeup from the party yesterday. You self-consciously zip up Mark’s oversized jacket to hide your exposed midriff. 
“Nice to meet you, y/n! This is the first time Mark has brought a… friend here”. Daniel’s eyes darted between you and Mark with an assuming smile.
“Yeah,” Mark coughed, turning to you, “do you want me to take you home? This probably isn’t what you expected I don’t know why I-”
“No,” you interrupted, “I’d like to stay and volunteer”. Offering him a reassuring smile, you rest your hand on his arm to show him that you were okay. There was truth to his worries when Mark said this wasn’t what you were expecting. You never would have thought that a popular guy like him woke up early on the weekends to help the needy. Evidently, he did it out of the kindness of his own heart, not for attention. You always imagined it was all parties and messing around, but you were pleasantly proven wrong.
“Great! Mark can show you around and get you started,” the older man clapped before heading inside.
“You’re kind of awesome, you know that?”. Mark’s question caught you off guard. He slipped his hand into yours to lead you into the building, the simple action sending your heart into a frenzy. 
“Awesome how?”
“Just… awesome,” Mark clarified cryptically, holding the door open for you to enter the storage room. He tosses you a green volunteer shirt.
“Alright, I’ll take the compliment,” you laugh, taking off his jacket and handing it to him. To your surprise, he pushes it back to you.
“You keep it. I like it a lot better on you”
Mark Lee if you keep saying things like this, I’m going to catch on fire.
You fight to put out the flames spreading across your cheeks and give a single nod, setting the sweatshirt down on a nearby box. Not willing to strip in front of him in the church storage room, you pull the volunteer shirt over on top of the shirt you were already wearing.
“So anyways,” Mark continued as if he didn’t just say the most romantic thing you’ve heard in your life, “the people will start coming in about 20 minutes. Our job is to portion out the food and once everyone is served, we can go eat and talk with them”.
“Got it”
“Here, let me get this for you”. His hand guided your waist to spin around as he pulled an apron over your head. Tying the back of the garment together, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his fingers brush under the fabric of your shirt. You turn your face to the side and you can see his soft expression in your peripheral vision. The heat from his body behind yours feels so welcoming.
I wish he’d kiss me right now.
And he wants to. He tries to. He’s leaning in and everything is perfect. Your heart is beating fast as you tilt your head back, but like clockwork, a jolting buzz from his pants makes you jump apart. No, not like that.
“I swear to God, I’m throwing away my phone”. Mark ran a frustrated hand through his hair, picking up the kiss-blocking call. “Hello?”. You sighed.
You watch as the annoyed expression on his face fades into shock as the speaker on the other side panicked through the phone. Your own frustration transforms into concern as Mark looks at you and you catch the words “car” and “hospital”. Mark paces back and forth.
“Alright, I got it. Yeah, she’s with me. I’ll tell her. We’ll come right now. Don’t worry, Ten, she’s going to be fine”
“What is it?,” you ask as soon as he hangs up the call, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry.
“It’s Yuna…,” Mark trailed off, shocked by the news. Your heart dropped down to your feet.
“What about Yuna?” Your voice shook with panic.
“She-she was in a car accident. She’s at the hospital right now”
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hereliesanotherfic · 3 years
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Albert James Moriarty x Reader
A/N: Just a little drabble, nothing too intense. More an admiration for our handsome Albert ^^ But I hope to write more for Yuukoku no Moriarty! I just got into the anime so I know nothing of the manga. So in this fic, I had to make up an aristocrat family/servants. The more I learn of the series I might not have too! xD Let me know what you think!
Rating: PG 13 (probably) Triggers:
(Mentions of) Family member death, thoughts of suicide,
(Actions of) Murder but no heavy details.
You weren’t anything special to the world, or at least never felt like it for a long time. You had ‘worked’ for a wealthy family in Durham for more than 5 years now and most of your work was shared with your older brother. You haven’t been allowed to see him lately though, and it was concerning. He began to fall ill, and you did your best to care for him after serving all your duties to the family. But it’s been a long…long time since you’ve seen his face now, almost a year. The Lord of the house, Lord Vincent told you not to concern yourself and they had a handled on it, but over the time those words have been of no comfort. The fact that you cannot see your brother after so long makes you fear something awful has happened. After all, the noblemen and family weren’t the kindest to lower class like yourself. You’ve gotten smacked and hit, drinks thrown at you, belittled, and shamed beyond what is humane. Your only string to life is that your brother might truly be alive and struggling, but you’ve never felt a depression and despair this deep before.
At this moment, you were on your hands and knees scrubbing the dining room floor, the maids setting a table fit for five. You overheard Lord Vincent had invited some noblemen who were new to the area over for a feast, and once the reply came back, he demanded all get to work in preparations. The butler had stepped in, clapping his hands. “Alright, quickly now, clean up and make yourselves presentable, they will be here shortly!” You placed your sponge in the bucket and hurried it to the washroom. Racing back, you stood in your spot at the end of the line of maids, brushing out your uniform of wrinkles or dirt. The butler scanned down all three maids, his eyes scowling at you. The butler was a bit of a prick like the noblemen, he had no respect for you since you were on the bottom of the barrel. You looked to your feet, wishing for nightfall to come so you could sleep again.
“Come with me,” you heard Lord Vincent cheer and you dared to glance up at the guests. First was a very tall, slender brunette with gorgeous green eyes and a strong jawline. Following him were two blondes, striking ruby red eyes, a little more build but just as attractive. You quickly stared back down at your feet, praying you weren’t caught by anyone in the room. If Lord Vincent or his mistress found out you were eyeing the guests it’d mean another punishment. Your food, injuries, sanity? They liked to change it to see how far your threshold could go.
As proper maids do, you each stepped up to a chair to pull it out for the noblemen. You weren’t sure if you were lucky or doomed to seat the brunette. Allowing him to sit and then aid pushing his chair in, he glanced over his shoulder to you and your peripheral vision could see his small smile. Without thinking, your eyes looked up and locked to his, which made his own eyes soften slightly. You immediately looked back down to the floor and took your place back to the side of the room. It was only an interaction of maybe 5 to 10 seconds, but it felt so impressionable. You admired how his tux made his shoulders and back a bit broader, whatever fancy cologne he was wearing was practically intoxicating, and his eyes and smile could get you dangerously lost. It wasn’t often young noblemen appeared, and now you were glad they didn’t.
The five aristocrats talked and ate the delicious food. You never really knew what the foods were or how to cook them, but it always looked mouthwatering. Time seem to go faster today, but you felt it was because of that damn brunette. You locked his image to his voice after threatening another glance, his voice smoothing through the conversations like melted butter. In a moment, you heard the famous finger snap of the Lord, signaling for places and leftovers to be cleared from the table. As a good maid, you took action and stood besides the brunette, clearing his space leaving no crumb behind. You felt eyes on you, but you couldn’t tell if it was him, or the Lord on your left side. You did every mental trick in your mind to not be too nervous. But it was already failing you.
“Your maid seems unsteady, Lord Vincent, is she alright?” the blonde you learned to be William spoke. He was across the table but he still noticed the slight tremors in your fingers? What the hell?! You stood straight with your couple plates and cups and looked to Lord Vincent, who looked pleased, but you saw his little ticks to know well enough, he was pissed.
“Do not fret about the service Lord Moriarty! She has been failing my family repeatedly, so a change has been due for a while now.”
…What?
“It’s so hard these days to find high class maids,” his wife sighed loudly, a look of disgust lingering on your backside.
You heartrate increased dramatically while your skin paled. You slightly bowed to excuse yourself from the conversation (even though you were just the topic) and headed towards the kitchen to dispose of the plates. You practically dropped them in the skin and held onto the counter. Your suspicions about them killing off bad service wasn’t just a rumor, it was true! You knew now because you were next! Your brother—you had to find a way to get out and save your brother! …
Your eyes started to water at the realization. ‘They had a handle on it’, in aristocrat terms, in the Vincent family terms, they eliminated him. And dragged you on to play the fool believing your brother was alive just to suck out whatever they could from you. You dropped to your knees as your tears poured, fingertips turning while you still gripped the counter above you. And the thought of joining your brother now…maybe he would forgive you if you join him for letting him die.
“Why are you crying?” a voice behind you spoke softly, startling you out of your self-pity and turning around instantly. To your utter shock, it was Lord Albert James Moriarty, and he was less than two feet from you, one hand outstretches as if to catch you.
You harshly wipe the tears from your face and eyes with your sleeve, standing up as quickly as physically possible and giving your uniform a couple messy pats, yabbering your apologizes as if your ending life still depended on it. “I am so very sorry Lord Moriarty, you should never have seen me in such array. Please forgive my improper-ness.” You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands, your anxiety was eating you alive! So you did your only method, stare at the floor with your head down and grip your uniform, your hair falling slightly forward as it was falling out of its bun. You could feel your body shaking and tried to stop it, your embarrassment eating you up on the inside for making a fool of yourself in front of not just a Lord, but a handsome one at that. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than you, and he could be placed in a museum and you were the cement floor.
“Please, don’t be afraid of me,” Albert begged softly, the gentleness of his voice being completely unexpected. You felt his large hand wrap around one of your clenched ones, making you remove your grip from your dress and be held in his hand. In the same moment, his other hand swooped under your jaw gently and lifted your face to look at him, swiping the (still) falling tears with his thumb. He locked his eyes with you (e/c) ones, a small smile came back to grace his lips. Just as you feared, you fell into a trance. You felt his other thumb rubbing small circles in your hand as he spoke his velvet words again.
“Come, it’s time to leave,” he hummed, closing his hand fully around yours before turning and heading out of the kitchen. You immediately started to panic at the though of Lord Vincent seeing the guest of honor so close to you, let alone touching you or speaking to you.
“L-l-l-lord Moriarty, I can’t do—this isn’t rig-okay, I mean!—” You choked to find the words, not wanting to offend him in any way, but terrified of not stopping him before re-entering the dining room like this. His grip was strong and you couldn’t pull back more than he pulled forward. He stopped for a moment and chuckled, looking over his shoulder to you with a smile and slender eyes.
“Do not worry about that miss, Lord Vincent has no more hold over you.” And he continued walking. You had no idea what that meant, but you were about to find out.
After he pulled you through the doors into the dining room, the sight was appalling. The head Maid was sobbing on the floor, a bloody knife fallen from her bloody hand. Lying hunched dead over the table were the Lord and his mistress, each suffered one to three stab wounds. The smell of all this blood was too strong and you covered your mouth with your hand. Before you could take in any more of the messy scene, Albert was already dragging you along outside, the two blonde brothers finishing up inside with the maid. You were practically speechless.
“L-..Lord Moriarty?” you said just above a whisper as he opened the door to his luxury carriage, looking at you. “…What’s happened?”
“Lord Vincent and his wife have both paid their debt for the slaughter of lower class servant workers, that’s all,” he stated matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened at his words, but they were soft. How did another aristocrat family know of this, not to mention care?
“We in the Moriarty family are…different,” he chuckled, before stepping to the side. “Please, hop in.”
“Why?” You asked, forgetting for a moment he was a nobleman.
“I’d like to give you some time to think if you’d like to be a maid for our family, or if you’d like to start a new life elsewhere. In the meantime, I can provide you a safe place to stay.”
You cheeks reddened slightly at the word ‘I’ and he must’ve caught on, closing his eyes for a brief moment before looking back into yours. If it wasn’t so dark out, you could’ve confirmed or not if he was blushing a bit too.
“We, my brothers and I,” he corrected, and motioned you into the carriage. At this point, your former Lord was dead, you brother was dead and you had little hope immediately on the street. Maybe serving the handsome Albert James Moriarty wasn’t such a bad deal after all. Especially if they are taking away some of the scum of the world.
Albert couldn’t have been more pleased when you stepped inside the carriage. This operation William put together has been brewing for a few months. Truth be told, Albert has seen you more than a couple times, but he’s never interacted with you since that wasn’t part of the plan. It was obvious to William you were being tricked, and your heavy depression blocked your brain from the truth. Only once you feel your life was truly on the line would you snap out of it. Albert was just as happy as his brothers to save another lower-class citizen from harm. Not to mention Louis lightly teasing him about keeping his eyes on you a little too much.
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justatiredpotato · 4 years
Text
Set Me Free | Chapter 1
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Chapter List
Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU
Word Count: Chapter: 6,000~  Total: 40,000~ (I’m sorry xD)
Updates daily at 10pm MST
Warnings: violence, discrimination (against hybrids), mentions of injuries and blood, anxiety, panic attacks
Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?
Author’s Note: I love writing reader inserts but I just can’t write Y/N. It feels weird to me. So in this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji. I hope this isn’t too confusing for anyone! This is my first time posting my work so I appreciate any support it gets!
You raised the blinds just high enough to let a sliver of pre-dawn light in, but low enough that you wouldn’t be blinded when the sun crested the buildings across the way. You peered through the sheer fabric onto the square outside. The area had seen a lot of development in the last few years. Trendy little shops now lined the street. The coffee shop you owned and operated was tucked between a couple of over-priced restaurants with laughably tiny servings. 
While you weren’t thrilled with the increase in your overhead costs, you couldn’t deny the recent boost in business. There was a steady flow of customers through the whole week, not just in the early morning or on weekends. It had even become necessary to hire a couple of part-timers to keep the place open longer. Not that you minded. You were actually glad for the opportunity to give your friend, Jungkook, a job. 
The rabbit hybrid was nervous by nature despite his imposing appearance; he stood at least a foot taller than you. Your brother, Namjoon was fiercely protective of him. Jungkook came into your lives in your final year of college. The police brought a battered and terrified Jungkook to Remedy shelter, which was run by your friend Jin. They hadn’t seen what happened to him, and he wouldn’t say. As far as you knew, Namjoon and Jin were the only people he ever told.
Your eyes focused on the patio before you, as the very bunny you were thinking of appeared at the door. One of the boys came in on the weekends to work alongside you and help with the rush. The square was usually packed with couples on dates, window-shopping and listening to musicians that busked along the sidewalks.
“Morning, noona!” Jungkook chirped with his wide bunny grin.
“G’morning Koo,” you said, attempting to match his energy level despite the early hour. He laughed sweetly at the nickname. You were the only one he let call him that since he turned seventeen.
“Did you have your coffee yet?” He asked. You shook your head no. “Waiting for your favorite hybrid to make it for you?” 
“Don’t let Jimin hear you say that. You know he’ll take any opportunity to pout,” you said. 
Jungkook chuckled at that. Jimin was the shop's other part-timer. Many hybrids were affectionate, but the ragdoll hybrid took it to another level. He spent every possible second with his arms wrapped around his nearest friend. You were counted among his friends from pretty much your first meeting. When the chance to work at your shop had opened up, he thought it would be a great chance to have some independence. 
Jimin had been rooming with Jin for years. Despite his desire for independence he simply couldn’t stand living alone. So he shared an apartment with Jin and Taehyung, a sweet tiger hybrid. Taehyung had been hard to adopt out because despite his good nature, he was an exotic breed, and a predator no less. Few wanted to risk taking responsibility for him, and those that did had less-than-good intentions for him.
Life was scary as a hybrid. Between the massive industry of underground fighting rings, sex trafficking, and abuse in even seemingly decent homes, any adoption was a gamble. Jin tried his best to vet each family, but he couldn’t catch every red flag. You and Namjoon knew better than most how that haunted him.
Several years ago, the two of you stopped by the shelter. Neither of you could reach him on the phone and you were starting to get worried. You finally found him in his office, passed out over his desk with several empty bottles of soju scattered around. Namjoon tried to rouse him, but all he could mumble was ‘dead, dead, dead’ between hiccuping sobs. The next morning you learned that a hybrid he’d helped earlier that year was found dead in a seedy part of town. The couple that adopted her were being investigated on suspicion of hybrid trafficking. 
He wasn’t the same after that. He got back to his usual smiling self, but he was slower to trust, and slower to laugh. Every time a hybrid left the shelter for their new home there was a flicker of sadness and fear in his eyes.
“Noona? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, breaking your train of thought. You turned to look at him, blinking to stop your eyes watering at the memory.
“It’s nothing Kookie, just thinking about this sad movie I watched last night.” You and Namjoon both agreed that it was best to keep the more tragic events from the shelter quiet. Jungkook had been through enough in the past, and you didn’t want to hurt him further by bringing up old memories. Jungkook frowned at the response.
“It must’ve been really sad,” he said, sniffing lightly. His frown deepened and he searched her eyes. He seemed to debate pressing it further. You knew that his hybrid senses were telling him you were lying. But he seemed to decide it was best to let it go, instead holding out a hot cup of your favorite coffee, a soft smile returning and making his eyes scrunch.
You took it, grateful for the coffee and his letting you evade the question. You set about your morning tasks, laying out chairs, brewing coffee for the self-serve station, and checking that there was creamer chilled and ready. Sunlight sparkled in the air, reflecting off the morning frost. 
It was supposed to snow that night. You shuddered. You hated winter for forcing you to pay for heating, if nothing else. Whenever your friends got together at your house—a tiny one-bedroom apartment above the cafe—Jimin whined about the cold temperature. But you refused to pay for anything beyond what would keep your pipes from freezing. It was expensive enough to own a building in your area already. Instead you wore layers and piled blankets on your bed. Jimin wasn’t really upset anyway, he loved any excuse to cuddle. Movie night usually ended with him and Taehyung asleep on either side of you.
“You actually going to turn on the radiator tonight?” Jungkook teased.
“I have my radiator on! It’s just… turned down,” you said.
He chuckled, knowing you were too stubborn to waste money on ‘luxuries.’ He turned away at the jingle of the door bell. The first customer of the day came as no surprise. A familiar, slouching form appeared, dropped a couple of equipment cases off at the side of the door, and shuffled up to the counter. The young man had black hair that hung down and nearly covered his eyes, which flicked up to meet hers. His lips twitched in a hint of a smile.
“Good morning, Yoongi” You said with more than your usual morning cheer. Jungkook scoffed and you threw him a dirty look. The young man in front of the counter didn’t seem to pay attention, his eyes determinedly focused on his beat-up boots.
“Morning,” he mumbled, glancing up to briefly meet your eyes.
“The usual?” you asked, trying to hold his gaze.
“Yeah,” he said. This time offering you a genuine smile before he looked away again. He busied himself looking through a well-worn notebook while you relayed his usual order to Jungkook: cheese toast and a small hot americano. You returned to the counter and accepted his punch card. He practically filled one every other week, since he was in nearly every day. 
“Performing in the square again today?” you asked. He was one of the buskers that was a regular in the area. He nodded. “You should put on a coat. It’s supposed to snow later. You’re going to freeze if you’re out there all day like that.”
You looked over his clothes. The hoodie he wore was ragged at the sleeves. He had the hood up, cinched a bit against the biting wind. His signature beanie was just peeking out from under it. He scuffed his feet, uncomfortable under your appraisal. 
“I’ll be fine,” he answered shortly. He looked up at you, eyes wide as he realized how curt he sounded. “I stay warm when I’m performing.”
You weren’t sure how standing behind a keyboard and laptop could keep you warm, but you didn’t press the issue. You handed back the punch card and gave him his total. He rummaged in his pockets before frowning and looking up at the menu.
“That’s wrong,” he said.
“Hm?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. He pointed to the menu over your shoulder.
“Your prices went up, but this is what it always costs.” He pulled a jumble of crumpled bills and coins from the pocket of his hoodie, counting through them. A couple of coins fell and clattered across the counter.
“I gave you the regular customer discount,” you said. Jungkook chuckled as he joined you at the register with the completed order.
“That’s not a thing,” Yoongi said as he finished counting out his change and handed you the total with the new prices.
“It’s my shop. I’m making it a thing,” you argued, pushing the money back toward him.
“Please, Yeoji-ssi. I don’t need a hand out.”
“I didn’t mean that you need it, I just wanted to,” you finally stammered after an awkward pause. Now you were embarrassed, and you felt bad for unintentionally insulting him. Yoongi cursed quietly under his breath. Beside you Jungkook’s ears twitched, and he sniffed curiously; no doubt sensing something you couldn’t.
“I know, I’m sorry. That’s very generous of you,” he said as he gently pushed the money back toward you. Tucking his toast into the backpack and taking his coffee he hurried back toward the door. He fumbled for a minute, trying to carry his equipment and the hot beverage. As he finally got his things together and went to push the door open, you called after him.
“Hey, drop by if you get a chance to take a break and warm up.”
“I’ll try,” he said, turning around and flashing another soft smile as he pushed through the door.
━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━
You thought about Yoongi a lot through the rest of the day. Jungkook noticed and teased you all day. You couldn’t scold him for it though, you’d teased him plenty about his first crush.
As long as Yoongi had been coming to the cafe you’d been curious about him. He was quiet, handsome, and talented. You’d heard him perform in the square before. He played the keyboard but also produced tracks that he played from his laptop, blending the simplicity of the piano with a full-bodied studio sound.
You often wondered why he wasn’t working at a studio, producing for idols. He could have been an idol himself with the good looks he hid behind a beanie, hoodie, and bangs. The more you learned about the boy, the more you wanted to know. On your break, you googled his name and found a few YouTube videos of performances at clubs and underground rap battles. Apparently he wasn’t just a musician, he was a talented lyricist and rapper as well.
“Doing some research on your boyfriend, I see?” Jungkook said, resting his chin on your shoulder. You jumped, turning to swat at him as he quickly danced away.
“Don’t read over people’s shoulders! That’s rude,” you scolded. You could feel your face turning pink, and it irritated you to know that he could sense your embarrassment. “He’s not my boyfriend. And I was just curious about his music.”
“Mhm, right,” Jungkook said dismissively. “You’re seriously browsing Google? Come on, doesn’t this guy have an Instagram?”
“Not one that I can find.” Your tone made it clear that you had made a thorough search and failed.
“Wow, really? No social media presence at all? Maybe he has Twitter.” You shook your head. “Facebook? LinkedIn? MySpace? AOL?”
“AOL did IM and email, you dork,” you interrupted, cracking a smile. “And no, I can’t find him on any platform besides YouTube. He doesn’t seem to have his own channel…”
“Weird…” Jungkook said. “Are we sure this guy really exists?” You snorted. “I’m serious! For someone to be completely off the grid on the internet is like, unheard of. Maybe he’s hiding from the law! Or in witness protection. Noona, what if your boyfriend is a drug dealer!”
You swung at him again, this time successfully landing a smack on his shoulder. He ran back out front when the door chimed.
“He’s not a drug dealer, stupid!” You called after him. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”
━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━
Namjoon picked up Jungkook after closing that evening. They were having a boys night at Jin’s house.
“Are you sure you don’t want to join, noona?” Jungkook asked, pouting a little bit to try and convince you.
“We really don’t mind, noona. Jimin and Tae would love it if you came,” Namjoon added.
“I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll be fine Joon. And Koo, you know Overwatch isn’t my style. You have fun with the boys. Make sure to let them win a few times,” you said, getting on your toes to ruffle Jungkook’s hair affectionately.
“I will,” Jungkook said, leaning into your hand for one last ear scratch.
You waved off the boys and set to cleaning up for the night. After mopping and turning out the lights in the front you went in the back to wash the dishes. Through the door leading out into the alley, you heard shouting. Listening for a minute, you shrugged it off. Probably just college kids from a local frat house. You often heard them as they stumbled home from the local bar. It was Friday night after all.
That explanation left your head quickly when you heard a scream. The sound nearly made you drop the mug you were washing. That wasn’t a scream of young men goofing around, it was a cry of pain and fear. Before you could think better of it you shook the water off your hands, grabbed your  phone, and raced for the door. 
You burst out into the alleyway struggling to stay upright on the thin layer of freshly fallen snow.
What you saw made your stomach turn. A group of four young men were crowded around the dumpster. Something, or more likely someone, was crumpled in the corner between it and the wall. You couldn’t see much, just rumpled fabric and a couple of bags laying around. The bags were opened, the paper and garments they had contained tossed around the alley. 
The men took turns throwing brutal kicks at the person in the corner, who was now curled so that the only thing you could see besides the snow-soaked hoodie was his hands clutching something to his chest. 
“You thought you could fool everyone? Thought you could scam a buck out of us?” One of the men sneered.
“Too bad. We know what you are. Just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want,” another said
“You’re just a toy that someone threw away. What were you thinking trying to pull something over on real people?” another said, punctuating his point with a kick to the ribs that sent the victim sprawling onto the snow.
“Hey!” you shouted before you could think better of it. You hurriedly lifted your phone to dial the police. It was dead. Panic shot through you as the four guys turned to you. Thinking quickly you put the phone to your ear and started talking. 
“Hello? I need the police. I’m in the alley behind ***********. There are some young men here and I think they’ve hurt someone.” One of the men took a step toward you, further illuminating his face in the dim security light. You took a step back. “Hey, I have all of this on CCTV! Your faces are on it!” you warned before returning to the imaginary phone call. “Yes, the cameras run 24/7. Everything should be on there…”
The guy closest to you stepped back into the shadows, cursing.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning to walk away and nodding for his friends to follow him. One of them turned to spit on the figure in the corner before walking away.
“You’re lucky, freak.”
You kept talking until the group disappeared around the corner. As soon as they were gone you rushed to the person in the alley. The person flinched away as you approached, tucking in on himself. You stopped, listening as he said something. It was muffled by his arms, which were held up in an attempt to protect his head. 
“What did you say?” you asked, moving a little closer.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” he repeated over and over again. The man’s voice trembled to the point it was hard to understand him, but his voice was undeniably familiar. As you came within arms reach you got a clearer view, and your blood ran cold. There bundled in a thin, soaked hoodie, was Yoongi. The snow that had melted over him from his body heat was quickly refreezing. He shivered so badly you could hear his teeth chattering.
“Yoongi?” you asked in a choked whisper.
He looked up at you then. One of his eyes was blackened, almost entirely swollen shut, with a cut through his eyebrow dripping blood onto his eyelashes. His nose was bleeding, possibly broken. The split in his lip lined up with a quickly darkening bruise on his jaw.
“Oh my god, Yoongi! What happened?” you asked, reaching out for him.
“Please,” he said, more of a whimper than a word. You froze. He was scared you were going to hurt him.
“Yoongi?” you said, more softly this time. “It’s okay. They’re gone. I’m not going to hurt you. Would you please let me help you?” The panic in his eyes seemed to clear a little, and he seemed to really see you when he met your eyes again.
“Yeoji-ssi? I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” he mumbled, wincing as he tried to stand.
“Woah, hold on.” You reached out to steady him. He flinched at the sudden movement, but didn’t pull away this time. “You aren’t going anywhere. Come on, let's get you inside before you freeze.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s really not worth the tro-“ he started.
“Yoongi,” you said in your older-sister voice. He seemed to realize that that was the end of the discussion, because he sagged against you as you slung his arm over your shoulders. His free hand was still clutching something to his chest. You glanced at it and your eyes widened. A tail. You looked up at him with a clearly shocked expression. He let out a kind of tired, resigned sigh.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Like I said, I can just go. You can leave me. You probably don’t want me here.”
“Why would you say that?” you said, immediately regretting your tone. He shrank into himself, curling his shoulders in to make himself smaller, even as he winced at the pain of moving.
“Sorry,” he repeated meekly, pulling his arm off as if he expected you to shove him away. You grabbed his hand and settled it back over your shoulder.
“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi. But why would you think I would leave you here?” you said. As you limped toward the door into the café he couldn’t meet your eyes. He’d embarrassed you, again. Of course you’d want to get rid of him. He hung his head and obediently followed you inside. His heart broke as he saw his bags, open and empty, strewn around the alley. His notes littered the floor, already soaked and probably illegible. He glanced around, seeing the edge of his keyboard where it had been shoved under the dumpster in the scuffle. Turning, he realized his backpack—containing his laptop, important papers and notes, and what little money he had saved—was still lying in the corner where you’d found him. 
He turned to you to say something, but found you were already at the door. As soon as the door closed behind him, what little strength he had left him. You eased him to the ground as best you could. He grunted, muffling a whimper of pain. He already felt pathetic enough.
“Okay, I’m going to call the police and an ambulance,” you said, tossing your dead cell phone on the counter and hurrying to the landline. Thank god you hadn’t hadn’t got around to cancelling it yet. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he lurched forward, trying to stand. He only made it one step before he fell, yelping in pain and landing on his hands and knees on the tile. You rushed back to his side.
“Don’t,” he begged through gritted teeth. You stopped short, thinking he didn’t want you to touch him. “No cops. No ambulance,” he got out before lowering himself to lay on his side. You quickly moved to lay his head on your lap instead of the cold floor.
“Yoongi you’re hurt. And those boys should be arrested! Besides, I’m sure someone is worried about you. Don’t you have a…” you trailed off, looking for the right word.
“Owner?” Yoongi said, disgust clear in his voice.
“I was going to say guardian. That’s what most of my friends call their arrangement.” 
“You have hybrid friends? Or your friends own hybrids?” Yoongi asked.
“I guess both, not that my hybrid friends are anyone’s property-“ you cut yourself off. “Yoongi this isn’t important right now. You need help.”
“No. The hospital will call the police, and the police will put me in a shelter.”
“You’re alone?” you asked cautiously.
“Yeah. I’m better his way. If I can just sleep here, I’ll be gone in the morning. Please,” he said. His voice kept getting quieter, losing its bite the more he spoke.
“No,” you said firmly.
“I’m sorry, I know you don’t want me here. I’ll be gone before you wake up. I won’t touch anything. You can just forget all of this.”
“No, Yoongi. I meant I’m not letting you leave like this. I’m getting you help and you’re going to let me.”
You took off your sweater and put it under his head so you could stand and get the phone. Yoongi moved to protest, but you threw him a look and he surrendered. You dialed and watched as Yoongi’s eyes fell closed despite his best attempts to fight it.
“Noona? What’s up?” came the answer on the phone.
“Hoseok, I need your help,” you said, not wasting any time. You could hear the sound of video games and trash talk pause in the background as the other boys asked Hoseok what you called for.
“Shut up a sec and let me ask,” he said to the younger boys who were no doubt hovering around the phone trying to eavesdrop. “Sorry, noona. What do you need? It’s late. Is everything okay?”
“I need a doctor.”
“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, his voice more urgent now. You could hear a whine on the other end already, probably Jungkook, already worried.
“I’m fine, Hobi, but could you take this conversation somewhere more private?” you asked, not wanting to expose the younger boys to any unnecessary trauma. There was shuffling and complaints on the other end of the line, then the sound of a door closing.
“Talk. What’s going on?” Hoseok demanded. The door opened and closed again and you heard Namjoon’s voice.
“What’s happening? Is she okay?” he asked. “Are you okay?” He repeated more clearly, evidently sharing the phone with Hoseok.
“Yes, I’m fine! But I have an injured hybrid here. He doesn’t have a guardian and he’s too scared to let me call an ambulance.”
“What happened to him?” Hoseok asked. He was a doctor specializing in hybrid medicine at the nearby hospital. He often helped out at Jin’s shelter. You felt some relief as you sensed he was in what Taehyung liked to call ‘doctor mode.’
“Some kids beat him up. It’s bad. He’s passed out on my kitchen floor right now. Drenched from the snow too. I can’t carry him into my apartment myself and it’s way too cold in this kitchen.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll have to grab some supplies from the shelter.” 
You heard the door opening again, and a bunch of voices throwing questions at Hoseok and Joon.
“Jin-hyung, shelter keys?” Hoseok requested over the noise.
“I’m going too,” Namjoon chimed in. There was more arguing and shuffling noises as coats were grabbed and shoes were put on and everyone insisted they were coming. You were distracted by a soft murmur from Yoongi, still on the floor behind you. You stretched the phone cord and returned to his side.
“What is it, Yoongi?” you asked, pulling the beanie off to brush some of his fringe off his face. His soft black ears were flattened against his head, and you gently smoothed over them too.
“My bag,” he mumbled, eyebrows creasing even in unconsciousness.
You interrupted the arguing boys on the other end of the phone.
“Bring the boys,” you said.
“Are you sure about that?” Namjoon asked, knowing that you, Jin, and himself all agreed it was best to protect the three maknaes from this kind of situation when it was possible. 
“They can’t come in and see him, but I have a job I need them to help me with. Make sure they dress warm,” you said.
“If you’re sure,” Namjoon said, deciding not to question you. 
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Hoseok said. “Do your best to keep him warm until then.”
“Okay. Please hurry.”
As soon as you hung up, you quickly ran into your apartment in the back. You pulled as many extra blankets as you could carry out of your closet and rushed back to Yoongi. You debated for a minute before pulling off the drenched hoodie, only to find that the black t-shirt he wore underneath was no drier. You weren't confident that you could get the garment off without further hurting him, so instead you piled blankets on top of him. You filled a couple of hot water bottles and tucked them around him; then filled a couple more and tucked them into your bed so that it would be warm when the boys carried him in.
You returned to the kitchen, where Yoongi was barely visible for all the blankets he was packed in. Glancing at the clock, you saw that only 10 minutes had passed. It felt like you’d been waiting for hours. The time crawled as you alternated between watching the seconds tick by and watching Yoongi’s chest rise and fall.
You jumped when the knock finally came at the door. They’d come to the back, the front door to your apartment, and you ran to let them in. Hoseok immediately slipped past you and headed to the kitchen. The others moved to follow, but you stopped them.
“I need you guys to help me with something,” you said. “Those thugs trashed his stuff threw it all over the alley. Joon, can you take the boys and go gather what you can and see if any of it can be salvaged? I know he said his bag is back there. It seemed important to him.”
Namjoon nodded and quickly herded the boys around the building and into the alley. You pulled Jin inside.
“I need you to help Hobi and I get him inside.”
“That bad?” he asked, frowning. You just nodded. He followed you back to where Hoseok was already taking stock of his patient.
“You did good, noona. Seems like you staved off the shock. Move him, and then I’ll dress these wounds.”
You carefully pulled the blankets away.
“Be careful, he was really protective of his tail. I think it’s injured somehow,” you warned before Jin and Hoseok picked him up. They exchanged a glance as they moved toward the apartment door.
“What?” you asked. “Is something else wrong?”
“No,” Jin tried to assure you, though his tone wasn’t comforting. “It’s just… Hobi, I know he isn’t a big guy, but is it normal to be this light?”
“No,” Hoseok answered grimly. “Definitely not.”
Now that your attention was drawn to it, you noticed how slight Yoongi was. His ribs were clearly visible through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. You felt a lump in your throat and looked away, hurrying to open the door.
“You can put him in my room. I put some water bottles to warm the bed.” They nodded and quickly settled him on the bed.
“Do you think we could cut away this stuff?” Hoseok asked, gesturing to his clothes. “It’s all trashed anyway.”
“I don’t know if he has much else…” you said, hesitant to ruin his things.
“I just don’t want to risk further injury trying to get them off intact. And we can’t leave him in these, he’s already nearly hypothermic,” he said.
“We can replace them,” Jin suggested. “I brought a change of clothes. It’s in a bag on your coffee table, noona.”
“Right, great,” you said. “I’ll go get them.”
You hurried out of the room to get the bag Jin mentioned. When you came into the living room you found Jimin, hovering by the door.
“Noona, there was a keyboard by the trash and papers everywhere. Are they his? Should we get them too?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. His nose twitched, and you realized he could probably smell the anxiety and pain in the air. You sighed.
“Yeah, grab everything you can. We can sort through it in the morning, and see what we can save.” He nodded and turned to leave.
“Chim,” you called and he turned. You wrapped him in a comforting hug. “Thank you.”
A purr echoed in the boy’s chest, even as you heard him sniffle. You knew this whole experience was hard for him. He was one of the volunteers at the shelter the day Jungkook was brought in. That experience still haunted him. It’s why he stopped working at the shelter and took a job at the coffee shop. His tail curled around your waist as he hugged you back tightly.
“He’ll be okay, Chim,” you said, stroking his hair. “We’re going to help him.”
A pained groan came from the room behind you, and you pulled away from Jimin.
“Go back out and help the boys. Once you’re done, leave the stuff in the living room and go to the cafe. Tell Jungkook I said everyone needs a hot chocolate,” you petted his hair one last time and guided him out the door. A shout echoed out of your bedroom, and you couldn’t tell if it sounded pained, angry, or scared. Snatching the bag off the coffee table, you dashed back into the room.
“Get off me!” Yoongi shouted, tail clutched to his now bare chest. Jin stood back, hands up in surrender as Hoseok tried to calm the panicked cat. 
“Look man, your clothes are soaked. We’re risking hypothermia if we don’t get you into something dry.”
Yoongi looked down, seeing what remained of his ratty t-shirt cut open and in the trash. The right leg of his jeans was sliced along the outer seam up to his mid-thigh.
“What the hell did you do to my clothes?” He shouted again. He winced and swayed from the strain of sitting upright.
“Yoongi,” you started softly. Yoongi turned to you, eyes wide with panic. You approached slowly, not stopping when he spat at you to leave him alone, hurling threats and nonsense at you. As you sat on the edge of the bed he shrank back into the bedding around him and refused to meet your eyes.
“Please,” he said, his voice so quiet you hardly heard him. “Please just leave me alone. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Yoongi,” you said again, “I want to help. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” You reached out to gently take his hands. “I swear, I’m going to protect you. Please let me. These are my friends, and they’re trying to help.”
He drew a shallow breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs and nodded. You stood and moved to leave, trying to spare him some privacy.
“Wait!” he said, stopping you. “Please don’t leave me.”
You turned back to him and took in his face, still chapped from the winter wind. You couldn’t leave him. So you stood with your back turned, awkwardly rocking on the balls of your feet as Jin and Hoseok helped him change.
“That’s much better,” Hoseok said, evidently satisfied that his patient was no longer at risk for hypothermia. You turned to find Yoongi with his ribs already wrapped and Hoseok working on dressing the wounds on his brow and lip. The flannel pajama bottoms Jin had brought were much too big for him, you might’ve giggled at how cute he looked if the situation were different. Without the dark hoodie and ripped jeans, Yoongi was undeniably adorable.
“I brought my clothes since I wasn’t sure what size would fit. I guess we should’ve borrowed Jimin’s instead,” Jin said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
“Thank you,” Yoongi said, bowing his head in thanks.
“It’s no problem. I’ll bring by something that’ll fit you better tomorrow.”
Yoongi glanced from you to Jin to Hoseok, then back to his hands in his lap. He focused on Hoseok’s hands, which were now busy setting the break in his tail.
“Don’t worry about it, I probably have something in my bag I can wear…” He trailed off, remembering the state his belongings were in the last time he saw them. “I’ll go clean up my stuff as soon as it’s light tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of the way before you know it.”
“Yoongi,” you said, trying her best not to sound frustrated. Yoongi’s ears flattened and you knew you hadn’t succeeded.
“I’m sorry. I can leave now if you want,” he said, tail curling back around him as soon as Hoseok released it.
Your heart, already cracked from all the events of the night so far, finally broke completely. Hoseok stepped aside to make room as you came to sit beside Yoongi again. He was shaking, and you realized that he was terrified. He genuinely believed that you wanted him gone; that you’d throw him out in the snow right then and there.
“Don’t leave,” you said, your own voice trembling now. You reached out and lifted his chin so he’d meet your eyes. He did, and you found they were shining with tears of pain and fear that he was desperately trying to hold back. “Please don’t leave. I want you to stay.”
His shaking hand came up to rest over yours, which still cupped his cheek. He leaned in to the first gentle touch he’d felt in years, and the tears finally fell. You pulled him into your arms, and he let you. He buried his face in your neck and cried as you pulled a blanket over his shoulders. 
Eventually the sobs quieted. His breaths came in little gasps now, as he tried to catch his breath despite the pain in his ribs. You leaned away after a while to look at his face and saw he’d fallen asleep. 
You looked back to find that Jin had gone to check on the boys. Hoseok sat quietly at the end of the bed, not wanting to interrupt. He gave you an approving smile, and you thought his eyes were a bit wet too. It took you a moment to notice Namjoon standing in the doorway. Hoseok helped you ease Yoongi down to lie comfortably, and you carefully disengaged herself from his arms. The two of you exited the room as quietly as you could.
“You were great with him, noona,” Hoseok praised. Namjoon beamed with pride before pulling you into a tight hug.
“I’m proud of you,” he said, planting a kiss on top of your head.
“Thank you, Joonie.” Your voice broke and you finally felt all of the emotions hit you. Your shoulders shook and you struggled to stay quiet as you sobbed into Namjoon’s sweater.
A/N: So so so much thanks to my beta reader @sunshineboysbts​ for helping me create and edit this whole fic! She’s been listening to my ramblings for actual months while I worked on this. Love you, girl!
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papers4me · 3 years
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Fruits Basket, SE03, Ep3
This ep is exactly like se02, ep 24, meaning it was divided clearly into two parts. While the graduation theme unties the two parts, you can point things out exactly like ep,24:
1st part : Machi’s story= the important part.
2nd part: scattered parts here & there that concern yuki, ep, 24 his interactions with akito, here his interactions with Motoko).
plus, an ep cliff hanger: (e, 24 the dvd given to kureno, here, Isuzu’s mysterious fate).
it is exactly the same even a small kyo/tohru moment!. School graduation instead of the zodiac’s new year gathering. 
Really awkward pacing, but that’s furuba, we celebrate when they DO connect dots for once! lets talk abt the REAL ep: MACHI.
-Machi’s awkward presence:  
Although I love Machi, I’ve voiced my concerns abt her character in Furuba:
It seemed that Machi was solely created to be a step in yuki’s success journey more than a character on her own right. After getting motherly love (tohru) leaving the nest, Yuki needed friendship (kakeru), then as an independent man, he needs romantic love: (Machi). This is all fine initially but I was yearning for more individuality for Machi as a character. All furuba characters were given space to be unique including minor characters like Motoko who narrated her own story each time she’s on screen & we lived it with her within two seasons & a number of eps.
 However, Machi’s background was introduced thro her brother’s exposition in se02 & that moment was a yuki/ kakeru bonding moment.
Thro kakeru’s exposition  we learned how similar yuki & machi are (the parental neglect, high expectations, cold sibling relationship, Big brother saves himself by himself, big brother pushing for redemption & the younger sibling’s still trapped silently ). While that makes for romantic appeal between the two which makes the writer’s job easier, it steals from Machi individuality.
Then her part in ep, 24 was shown & I was given hope for Machi’s individuality as her own inner voice spoke volumes abt her as a person away from yuki (romantic interest) or Kakeru (big brother). Having a lot of screen time, while can make a character more believable to the audience, is never a factor in character’s depth nor individual worth. Heck! kyo (part of the main trio & the main character’s love interest) has only ONE ep in se02 to explore his issues & by far it is my fave ep in se02 as it established kyo’s trauma, psyche, mental issues & emotional baggage better than I could ever imagine! You can DO WONDERS with little time if you knew what to do. That’s what happened with Machi this ep (half ep).
-Machi’s shines! (trauma & romance):
I was so relieved to learn that altho both Machi & yuki despised perfection as it suffocated them, the writer (thankfully) went abt a different approach with Machi. Unlike Yuki who went silent cuz he felt his voice didn’t matter as he was used as a tool, Machi went silent cuz she was was NOT needed, & not only discarded but painted as WRONG. If you admit that raising me this way is wrong, then what does this make me? What should I do with myself? I’m wrong! boring, a failure, & a presumed killer!! all while I was absolutely doing my best! all while I was having good intentions! It is devastating but It makes Machi real. A character on her own right with her own trauma, struggle, pain & outlook on life. Although, the writer made the whole yuki/Machi meeting orchestrated by Kakeru to quickly make the two siblings one step closer, it worked cuz kakeru chose to not interfere after setting the scene. He played a subtle mach maker & tried to find happiness for his sister silently. Kakeruy is yuki’s best buddy & Machi becoming the girlfriend, the trio will have to hang out more which will slowly but surely warm Machi towards Kakeru. While the flat visit is the part where Machi open the lid to Yuki with a spark of romance at the end, the chalk scene is the romantic part! Not only did Yuki noticed her panic & saved her by breaking a piece of chalk, she secretly remembered his promise! “ lets make footprints on the snow”. The snow that was another source of anxiety attack, is now sth she looks forward to & prays for! Truly romantic!!! Well-done writer.
Side Notes:
I know furuba is shoujo & it’s abt love, but C’mon! where did Nao/ Motoko come from??!! XDD Who is left without love interest? Kyo’s rejected fangirl loved by one of kyo’s buddies? The maids in love with Akito? Momiji? Who does Kimi love besides money? XD
Yuki once observed that kyo makes tohru happy with small things, Today he did the same! A broken piece of chalk.
Yuki/ Machi romantic scenes contrast Yuki/ tohru forced romantic scene at the earlier seasons. There is no lame cringy lines like “ I’ll kidnap you & go to a vacation” or kissing a ribbon. There is NO acting or pretentious lines. Here a piece of chalk did the trick, an understanding of her tears & a head pat, a promise to walk on snow together! Congratulations Yuki, You made it into romantic boyfriends category! XD. also, good writing!
The Bra scene is the real comedy in the ep.
Arisa’s “ kyon, we won’t forgive you if you hurt tohru” is gold cuz kyo WILL. When it’s time to confess he knew kyoko & she HATES him & doesn’t forgive him, tohru would be hurt! Even if she wasn’t in love with kyo!!! Knowing your beloved’s last words were hateful is painful!! Add to this that tohru loves kyo & would be struggling between forgiving him or not!! Add to this that kyo might NOT want to be forgiven!!
“ I won’t forgive you”. kyo’s haunting reminder that he’s unforgivable is now shared by kyoko, yuki, Hana & Arisa!! 
look, you might argue that furuba’s romantic writing might be a bit awkward with all sorts of romantic couples, age gaps, the need for everybody to be in love one way or the other & so on, but the traumatic behavioral writing is the best!!!!! I was never disappointed with how Takaya write abused traumatized children’s behavior. One of my fave scenes is yuki/ kyo in the stairs in se02 where kyo lashed out on yuki & yuki was over it. While that scene was rightfully celebrated for yuki’s triumphant attitude as he got over his trauma, I love it for the realistic trauma filled attitude of kyo, all charged with kyoko’s flashback! He’s in deep & he’s all by himself! Kyo will hurt tohru cuz he loves her just like how kazuma hurt him by forcefully taking his bracelet cuz he loves him. Kyo will be thinking it is for the best, who would want to be with someone that kyoko of all ppl hates!
 I’ll tolerate all the weird love couples in furuba, but the moment trauma is written weakly I’ll drop the show. There is NO way, kyo will confess kyoko’s lines then go “sorry abt that tohru, we’re good?” 
Back to Machi, I really hope that her trauma isn’t merely wrapped up cuz yuki loved her. Furuba was never abt love heals, it is abt love helps. We might not see more of her trauma for reasons of space, or not related to the current plot lines, but I really hope we hear her talk abt herself with yuki even few lines. Although, I feel that the focus now will be on setting her for yuki’s next stage in character development: honesty in the love confession. He’ll tell her abt the curse as the trailer hinted at. That’s their first love life struggle. But if I were to take a guess, it will be dealt with quickly like her trauma. She loves yuki dearly & as long as he walks with her in snow (human or rat, lol), it’s all good. <3
Hior’s mom is love.
Kagura’s new style is love! she isn’t dressed overly cutely anymore, but had a more comfortably style & I love her hair! also her friendship with Isuzu! <3. I wish Isuzu would really know there are ppl worried abt her in her life. Haru isn’t the only one.
Akito put Isuzu in the cat room, didn’t she? The place she left is similar to the place young Kazum wandered to in se01, ep25. & those scissors....
I never thought that the mere sight of shigure’s face will disgust me. XD. I still find him so intriguing, but yeah need time to get over the fact that he slept with Ren & counted it even with Akito, then slept with Akito afterwards! EWWW! so disgusting & I’m here to see this drama escalate!
Yuki / Machi moment was interrupted! XD It’s not fun when it happened to you, yuki? XD.
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alexwritesfiction · 3 years
Text
heaven
word count: 2k
tw // mcd
A/N: This is an emotional scene so take care lmao
I take a deep breath and step up on the alter, my nerves wracking. Anxiety sets in, the only question on mind as to where Xavier could be. And what did Aleander mean by gift?
As more time passes by, the looks on our families’ faces grow worried, making me even more nauseated. I can't believe he's late on our wedding day. As pissed off as I am, i can't help but want to call him and make sure he's alright. A bad feeling sets itself in my stomach. I'm gonna kill him.
“Where is he?” I almost growl at Ray, who’s standing just a few feet away from the steps.
“I don’t know, Cath,” he whispers in a shaky voice, and I know he's freaking out too. Xavier means so much to him, he knows that today was important to him. I can tell by his face that he can't comprehend why he wouldn’t be here on time.
I try to calm myself down, to not think about worst case scenarios, but my mind is a haze.
A ringtone cuts through the air and I can feel it in my heat that it's him. I sigh in relief.
Everyone’s eyes whips to Mom, who has my phone in her clutch. Her eyes widen as she frantically takes it out, almost stumbling as she tries to reach me.
I hurry to her and snatch it out of her hands, my fiancé’s name flashing on the screen with our photo from the baking session. My fingers shake as I look up to see everyone desperately waiting for me to pick the call. My fingers slide across the screen and the phone is barely put to my ear before I hear his faint voice.
“Principessa, how are you?” a small but firm voice speaks through the line. That’s all he's got to say? He's late and he's asking me how I am? My tolerance shoots through the roof as I try not to blow up.
“Xav, where are you right now? I'm here literally standing at the altar and you're not here and the officiant—” I rush out, only to be cut off.
“This is goodbye, baby,” he chokes out in a broken voice, and I try to imagine his face right now but I can't. my heart stops. Freezes for a second before completely dropping to my knees. The thing that scares me the most about this is that his voice is as serious as anything and I know he isn’t joking. He didn’t call me by my nickname, he just said goodbye.
A lightheaded feeling takes over my mind as I try to form a complete sentence to reply to him. I can't breathe, there's a heaviness in my chest that won't go away.
“What— Xav, what,” I stutter out. A beat passes before a small “no” falls from my lips and I feel everyone around me tense. I don’t have the mind to look at them and all I can concentrate on is how he just said goodbye.
“Marry me, principessa? Right now?”
And that does it, a tear escapes my eyes and I lose my cool. My ohone almost falls from my grip but I tighten it in my hand so much that I feel my knuckles turning white. I walk back up to the altar, I feel safe there. I wipe awy the stray tear and set my face into a firm expression , failing to let it seem like my soul didn’t just escape me.
“Get your ass down here, Xav, or I swear to god I'll hunt you down right now,” I almost growl out, and I hear a faint chuckle. I feel Ray pacing around and I look up at hik to see him on a phone call. I can hear him telling someone to find out where he is. He runs out to his car and I divert my attention back to him.
“Ray’s coming to get you, Xav. What’s going on?” I croak out, no longer able to hold back the desperation in my voice. I tremble as I speak, and Tahlia comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I barely register to shoot her a grateful look but his next words break me.
“I'm so sorry, principessa, always and forever,” he says in a soothing voice, God darn it, Xav. It's only then that I register what’s happening. He promised to never say goodbye, and now he is. He promised he’d never go away and now I feel like he is. He said he’ll only ever say goodbye when of us is taking our last breaths when were old and wrinkly and he's saying it right now and I'm losing my control.
“No!” I exclaim, “I'm not letting you die on me, Xav! I won't! Don’t you even dare, you can't do this to me,” I say loudly, hating how my voice cracks at the end.
“Principessa, I accept you to forever be mine, and that youll forever live in my heart. I take you to be my wife till death do us apart. I do, Cath. Do you—”
He just said his vows.
“Yes! God yes, Xav. You don’t get to do this to me! This isn’t how it's supposed to work! We were supposed to have this…this magical ending and we were supposed to take on the world and you weren’t supposed to do this, Xav,” I cry.
We just got married, and he's not here
“We don’t always get our happy end, do we? And you, principessa, you were the biggest happiness of my life,” he says, sniffling. I can't hear him cry, haven't heard him since his mother’s death anniversary. It's unreal, to see him unravel. I don’t like how he's using past tense, like he's already not there.
“Xav, no, please, I love you so much, come back here, hold on a little while, baby, you’ll be okay,” I choke out. I feel numb, like everything arounf me has turned into thi air and I'm alone, holding on to his voice like it's life support.
“I love you, Catherine Lily North,”
“I love you, Xavier Lee Blackheart,”
“Catherine Lily North, I love you,” he says with a huge smile on his face. My heart beats out of my chest as I try to comprehend what he just said. As reality sinks in, I mirror his smile, clutching his hand. “I love you, Xavier Lee Blackheart,” I say, and his eyes widen. I guess he didn’t expect me to say it back because the next thing I know, he's pressing his lips to mine.
His unruly breathing makes its way to my ears as he doesn’t reply, making me grip onto Tahlia’s hand, almost crushing her fingers. It's a miracle I'm still standing. I let go of her hand and bunch up my gown’s clothing, like it's somehow gonna take me to him.
His breathing shallows, and my mind almost bursts in panic.
“Xav? Xav! Stay with me! Please, babe, I won't be able to do this without you, I can't,”
“Yes, you can, principessa—”
“Not without you! Never without you, please. I need you here with me, right by my side, holding my hand, Xav,” I beg him to stay, but it's like my plea falls on deaf ears.
He doesn’t say anything, and his breathing keeps getting fainter and fainter, until he cracks the silence.
“I hope you know I fought for you, my love,” he whispers. He seems to calm down from the high of pessimistic things and it makes a small ray of hope shine through me.
“I know you did,” I say, but something tells me he isn’t just talking about with his father.
“I got your lillies,” he says. I can detect the small smile on his face as he laughs softly. He bought me lilies, for my middle name, for my wedding day. For us.
Memories flashes through my mind and I let go of my dress I was clutching on, flicking it back and forth in anxiety.
“Remember what I said about last words, principessa?” he voice suddenly reappears, his words striking a memory and making my heart race.
“i’ve always wanted my last words to be your name,” he says, a serene smile on his face as he strokes me cheek, before leaning in and pressing a small kiss to my forehead. I giggle, feeling all the peace in the world right here with me.
“Yes…Xavier, NO, nope, not happening. We are not doing this right now. Xavier, listen to me,” I choke out, shaking my head frantically, holding onto the officiant’s desk for support.
A long inhale follows, like he's struggling to breathe. Struggling to stay.
“Principessa,” he says, with a sudden franticness in his voice that makes me almost fall over the edge. His breathing softens.
“Xav—”
His breathing stops. Terminates. Discontinues.
And he dies.
“Xavier!” I scream out, my throat rough. I want to shout out at the heavens, I want to kill the people who killed him, I want to freaking destroy the planet for bringing our story such an ill fate. I want to do so much, but I can't.
I can't, because he's not here. I can't, because he's gone. Because he’ll never be here again.
My hand loses its grip on the desk and I collapse, the call falling from my hand. My knees crumble and I fall to the ground as violent sobs wrack my body, refusing to stop. I vividly feel someone putting theIr arms around me, and I just fall onto them, my eyes closing. I want nothing more to see him
To feel him one last time. To tell him I love him. To hug him, to kiss him until we’re dazed. To spend forever with him.
My numbness leaves and I feel everything all at once, a whirlwind of emotions staggering me with their force and I can do nothing more than wail and cry. I feel the force of the universe weighing me down and I physically can't get away. My mind claws at me and I cry out in pain, thrashing out at anything that comes in my vicinity.
My wedding dress that he picked out for me with adoration in his eyes comes to bite me and I want nothing more than to feel him with me again. To rip this dress in half but also treasure it forever.
I hit the ground and then gently run my hands on it like it’s Xavier’s face. I cradle him in my mind and it’s like the earth has shattered beneath me. It tears me apart that I just lost a part of myself to heaven.
The darkness around me becomes so much that overcome with love and grief that when I finally close my eyes and surrender myself to darkness, I only see him everywhere.
Him. Everywhere.
———
How you like that? XD
taglist:
@petitpancakes @skinni-ciggis @bubblegum18 @cbfjdx @fckingpernico @dumbsouvenir @i-like-5sos @heartbreakgirlisagoodsongcalum @neptune-falls @metanoiamorii @thescatteredscribbles @little-boats-on-a-lake @talesofsorrowandofruin @w-l-ink @baguettethebooklover @euphoniouspandemonium @wannabeauthorzofija @lady-of-himring @the-writing-avocado @ink-fireplace-coffee @your-local-book-worm345
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lostinwildflowers · 2 years
Note
hello!! i have come to give my congrats to you on 800 followers (holy shit, you deserve it!!) and inquire about the event!! if there are still spots open, i'd love to request one, but if not, feel free to disregard this ask :)
my name is jessica, i'm 19 (gonna be 20 in like 2 weeks -_-). im a film major in college right now, and I'm going to be starting a minor in Japanese next semester. I really want to do screenwriting or tv writing in the future bc i really like storytelling and worldbuilding, but we'll see how that goes lmao. the film industry is brutal. i like to draw and read in my free time, or just listen to music and disassociate yk -- anything that allows me to be immersed in something bc my psychiatrist said that's good for my anxiety :D we love mental illness. ig personality-wise im pretty chill?? but im also a bit of a perfectionist and i tend to be pretty organized (if that makes sense lmao). I tend to have either really weird or dark humor and i hyper-fixate on things really easily. i am more introverted though and it takes me a while to open up to people fully -- i have to be REALLY comfortable with them. i can also be really stubborn, especially when i think im right and ESPECIALLY when think im right and later find out im wrong :/ im working on it. I've been told im a really good listener tho, and good at giving advice. also i like cats :) OH and one of my fatal flaws is that if i really REALLY don't want to do something, will literally do anything else before that, and normally that ends up being cleaning. once i vacuumed the entire apartment bc i didn't want to write the outline for an essay.
for the character i'd be fine with either oikawa or sakusa from haikyuu, whichever one you want to feel is easier for you to write for!! and if you could do option 3 that'd be great! something fluffy, i think, but honestly, whatever you write i will absolutely love. go crazy! i just don't want to cry, i don't need the sadness :( aot is already destroying me every week.
thanks and have a great day!!!!!!!! congrats again :))
Hehe oopsie! This is just over 400 words XD I couldn't stop myself! Thank you for your support, I hope you enjoy this little drabble!
---
“My love?”
Oikawa had just gotten back to your shared apartment, and was confused at the sound of the vacuum cleaner running as well as wipes on the counter and the trash sitting next to the door.
In his hands he held a small carrier- a surprise for you, actually. You had been very busy with school and working towards getting possible internship, so he decided you needed a little something.
As he walks further into the apartment, he can see your sketchbook resting on the table in the living room, and he quirks an eyebrow toward your bedroom, where the noise was coming frmo.
He gently sets down the carrier before sliding into the room, his eyes catching on your figure, noting the tension in your shoulders and the stressed look on your face.
“Jessica,” he tries again, calling over the sound of the vacuum. This time, you hear Oikawa, and your eyes light up at the sight of him.
You turn the vacuum off, walking over to him and burying your face in his chest. He just chuckles and brings a hair up to rub at your head as he mumbles, “Hello to you too.”
“Sorry Tooru… I’ve been really stressed and busy today, and I have an analysis due Thursday-” “Shh shh, it’s okay, I got you a little something,” he cuts in gently, pushing you back so he could gage the reaction on your face.
You just look confused and he knows this will be perfect. He gestures to the living room and says, “C’mon, lets go.” You just follow him silently, your mind racing as to what he could have gotten you.
And that’s when you catch sight of the cat carrier sitting in the middle of the living room, and the soft meows coming from within it. Your mouth drops as you turn in shock to Oikawa, who just proudly grins at you.
“You got me a cat?!” you yelp as you race over the carrier, dropping to your knees to see the small brown kitten inside. Oikawa sits down next to you and says, “He’s all yours, Jess. I got all the supplies and stuff, they should be delivered in a couple hours. I thought you might need a study buddy.”
You turn away from the kitten and toward your boyfriend, pouncing on him and attacking him with kisses.
“Thank you so much! What are we going to name him?!” “I thought we could call him Oikawa Junior.” “Absolutely not!”
---
THIS EVENT IS CLOSED
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Text
Evidence holds us together
Hello! I hope your well ! 
I’m a massive fan of silent witness and a massive fan of Jack Hodgson. I mean come one how can you not love him XD Like many people, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands so I got bored and just started writing :) 
I present to you a Jack Hodson x OC fanfic. 
This is all a little fun, so if you read enjoy ~ 
Chapter 1
**********************************************************************************************
Snipers Nest   
Part 1
Late nights and wine were both a blessing and a curse.
Especially when work calls you in early.  
From yesterdays conversation with Thomas, Amelia had noticed that he was becoming rather agitated with the idea that she had not finished compiling the evidence for the independent enquiry the Lyell was helping with. 
Of course she had nearly finished it. The key word, nearly. She would get it done. She had about three days to get it done … 
Why sacrifice an episode of Netflix and a glass of wine in the process?  
For some unknown reason her one hour Netflix binge ended up being four and her glass of wine mysteriously became two. Luckily, the idea of letting her team down had pushed her to go to bed. She had decided to be extra vigilant and work a lot harder today, in the end they were depending on her. 
The brunette pushed herself from the table she was leaning against and removed her gaze from the half full bottle of wine, she could do this! Time to get to work! 
She knew that getting up earlier would have solved her problem yet quite frankly at this point she was in no mood to admit it. The idea of going to bed seemed so much more appealing. 
After a little bit of breakfast, which in reality was a couple of biscuits.  Amelia jumped in her car and headed to the Lyell. The drive from her house would take about half an hour or so. She dreaded the idea of getting stuck in traffic as she had promised herself she would grab a coffee on the way. 
While pulling out of a junction, her phone rang. She sighed.  Clicking the Bluetooth button on her wheel she answered. 
“Hello Amelia Rowell speaking” She gave her normal professional greeting as she hadn’t been able to look at the caller I.D. 
“Well good morning sunshine, had your morning coffee yet?” A cheeky voice spoke from the other end of the line. 
Amelia rolled her eyes and suppressed a laugh.
“Jack, its a little early to receive a phone call from you? Don’t tell me you got bored looking at yourself in the mirror?” She bit her lip as she turned a corner. Hopefully that didn’t come across too harsh. Jack let out a scoff.  
“Oh Amy you wound me, she definitely hasn’t had her coffee” Jack snickered to someone, presumably Nikki.
“Don’t laugh Jack, coffee if a basic human right, I’m in no way responsible for my actions without one” Amelia grinned, her grin then dipped “ Why do I feel your going to tell me I’m not going to be able to get one?” 
Amelia slowly approached a red light and came to a halt. Jack hadn’t answered her question. He was silent for a second. 
“Suspected sniper” Jack said seriously. 
“I’m sorry?” Amelia gasp. Almost on impulse she glanced around her area “What do you mean suspected sniper, where? Is there any Other information?” 
“That's all they said, a suspected sniper” 
‘Wow well thats helpful’ Amelia thought to herself.  “Did they mention if the sniper has been caught?” she asked in a rush. 
 “Funny” Jack said in a sarcastic tone “ I said the exact same thing. No, there is no other information. I’ll send you the address, me and Nikki are on route. Thomas said to meet us there”
Amelia nodded to herself and licked her lip. She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. 
“No problem, see you guys soon” 
Jack hung up. With the light still red she took a breath. 
She may need more than three days to finish working on those files. 
*******************************************************************************************
Amelia pulled up at the service station. As she did she noticed her surroundings. Wide open spaces, almost no cover for the team. The thought of the sniper being out there made her feel uneasy.
“Can I see some I.D please?” 
She flinched, looking to her right an officer had approached her. She had been to0 focused on what wasn’t around to notice. 
Pulling herself together, Amelia nodded politely. She lent down and quickly pulled her I.D from her bag and flashed it to the man. 
 “Amelia Rowell, I’m part of the forensics team from the Lyell” 
The police officer gave her a small smile and stepped away, radioing in  that she had arrived. Noticing Nikki's car, Amelia parked up near by. 
She swiftly got out of her car, noticing the team straight away she made her way towards them. 
“Morning guys” Amelia smiled. Jack and Nikki spun round upon hearing the voice of their friend. Nikki gave her a big smile and a little wave as she approached. Jack rose an eyebrow at her a small smile plastered on his face. “What time do you call this?” 
She narrowed her eyes at him and decided to Ignore his comment, she then smiled at the Detective Inspectors “Hello, I’m Amelia Rowell, apologies I’m a little behind we came from different directions” 
A woman in a back suit, hair tired back into a pony tail, nodded towards her. 
“Hello I’m DCI Jane De Freitas's ” She then referred to the man next to her, looked very tired “This is DS Jim Cloud”
“What have we got?” The forensic scientist asked.
“As I was just mentioning to your team, this man over here is Steven Lakhani” She pointed to a body laying near a silver car a couple of yards ahead of them. The her hand dropped to two females. “ the lady on top in Andrea Lakhani. Both Identified from driving licence and bank cards.” 
The group stated to head towards the bodies, while passing the two women Nikki knelt down inspecting the angles in which they lay. Amelia knelled down next to her. She glanced at the bodies. The women on top was dressed casually, the woman underneath her wore a uniform. She then lifted her head and glanced around the service station. 
‘What a way to go’ she thought, she compressed her lips together as she narrowed her eyes at the open hills just ahead of the station. In all her years working in forensics, even when she worked for the metropolitan police the human race always found a way to disappoint her. 
Nikki looked towards her, almost reading her mind. She looked back at the woman standing. 
“Any idea where they were shot from?” Nikki asked the DCI. 
“Hoping you could help us out there” the DCI replied looking away with a frown “We’ve done a sweep of the area but have found nothing so far” 
‘Well that was comforting’ Amelia thought pushing herself up off the floor. 
Amelia scanned the DCI, she looked as nervous as she felt. Her hands were in her pockets and she swayed from side to side while glancing around. Amelia knew that they were afraid the sniper was still watching them. 
“Lucky all this petrol didn’t go up” Jack said from over where Steve Lakhani’s body was. 
Nikki stood up and walked towards Jack. Amelia stayed behind the her and the DCI as they made their way to the third body. Steven Lakhani lay sprawled out in the ground, gunshot wound to the head. A puddle of petrol was leaked around the area of the body.   
“Witness said his hand stayed clenched to the pump handle after her was shot.” DCI De Freitas said as they came to a standstill. 
“Cadaveric spasm.” Amelia stated. They all looked towards her. “When people die in extreme stress, a muscle group remains contracted giving evidence of their last act of life” 
Nikki knelt down over the body and started to examine it, Jack did the same. Amelia turned back to the body of Andrea Lakhani and the Jane Doe. She made her way to inspect them. Passing the two detectives she heard DS Cloud. 
“Lets get in the warm and let the squints do their work eh?”
“Squints?” Amelia muttered to herself as she shook her head slightly while crouching down. 
God if she had to deal with arseholes like him all day she deserved a medal and a bloody strong coffee.
Amelia began to inspect the uniform of the Jane Doe. She noticed the company name straight away. Poor woman worked at the service station. 
“We’ve got a crime scene to process, Jim” DCI De Freitas kept her tone level. 
“We’re not going to get anything from them except bullets” Cloud replied. 
Amelia rolled her eyes as she lifted a strand of Andrea Lakhani’s hair, she pulled out a pair of tweezers from her work case and used it to place a strand into an evidence bag. 
She would like to see him try and solve this case without them.
“It’s our daily routines that govern the ecology of victimisation-”  DCI De Freitas's continued.  
“Here we go” DS Cloud muttered, crossing his arms and looking away from the woman. 
 The female detective made her way round to stand nearer to Steve Lakhani's body. 
“How did these people elevate their victim status?”
“Well, CCTV, witnesses and daylight make this situationally low-risk for the victim, but high-risk for the killer” Jack said as he stood up, pointing to the CCTV cameras. He walked towards the bodies of the two women. 
“Compulsion over caution usually spells personal”  De Freitas stated while following him.  
“But petrol station isn’t a predictable fixture in someone’s day like a train platform” Jack continued. He came to a stop by Amelia. She looked up at him and the detective. 
“Unless the fixture is your day, because you’re an employee.” She pointed at the Jane Does badge. 
They all leaned down to look at the bodies. 
“Phone?” DCI De Freitas asked. 
“I’ll check inside for personals” Jack said. 
Suddenly there was a loud bang.  Wide eyed, Amelia shot to her feet in fright, almost loosing her balancing in the process. Jack lightly grabbed her shoulder to steady her.  Amelia glanced at him slightly, eyes still wide and mouth slightly agape. She pulled her lips together and gave him a nod. Jack gave her a small smile and looked towards the source of the noise. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a second longer before he pulled it away. 
“For God’s sake!” Cloud shouted.
“CCTV of the shooting should help us find the sniper’s nest” Nikki said while looking down at the two women. She then crouched down to inspect further. 
De Freitas nodded “We are pulling it now”
Jack tapped Nikki on the shoulder and motioned Amelia to follow him as he headed back towards Steve Lakhani’s body. Amelia followed behind them attempting to keep her heartbeat at bay. “The victim with the head wound should help with bullet trajectory” Jack placed his right hand in the air, tracing the direction the bullet would have travelled. 
“The bullet missed the pump and the car which gives us limitations of angles” 
Nikki came to a stop. She kneeled down and pointed to Steve Lakhani’s skull. “Exit would is in the rear of the skull. High velocity splatter here”
“Pitted tarmac where the bullet impacted” Jack responded. 
“Also, skull and brain fragments travelling from the exit wound in the same direction as the bullet. “ Nikki pointed out. 
“So …” Jack summarized 
“How tall is Mr Lakhani ?” Amelia asked, looking over towards Jack “ because I’d say about six foot?”
“Yep!” Jack replied and moved towards the silver car “ He’s standing here. Left hand.” Jack then looked from the body towards the open space in front of him. “Assuming he’s standing at his full height at the moment of impact. The shooters got to be ..” He pointed towards the hill just ahead of the service station,
 “Up there” 
A short time after, Jack headed into the service station to examine the Jane Does belongings. Nikki, along with De Freitas headed to find the snipers nest. 
After collecting as much evidence as she could from around the three bodies, Amelia started to examine the Lakhani’s car. Firstly, she examined the outside. It was clean, a good make. Taking a picture of the number plate she then made her way round to the drivers side and opened the door. Inside was the opposite. Discarded food rappers, a newspaper lay on the floor of the passenger side. A coffee cup in the cup holder. 
Amelia frowned.  The Lakhani’s obviously were in some sort of rush. The litter in the car revealed that. It was clear by the make of the car and the way they dressed that they cared about appearance yet it seemed their focus had shifted. She wondered what sort of situation they would have been in. Shifting her body she looked at the drivers side. It was very much the same. 
Jack slipped into the backseat of the car. 
“What ya found?” He asked. Without looking at him Amelia replied.
“Not much at the moment. So far its very obvious that the Lakhani’s were heading out of town. Food wrappers everywhere, abandoned coffee cup with some coffee still inside and-”
“You looked to see how much coffee was left?” 
Amelia looked up at Jack, he wore a cheeky smile. Amelia’s cheeks grew hot, she was not going to let Jack tease her. 
“It has nothing to so with my coffee addiction, I’m just doing my job.” 
“Just checking its not a cry for help” He winked. 
Amelia rolled her eyes. Attempting to stay professional she asked  “What about you what did you find?” 
Jack crossed his arms over his chest. 
“She had a hand bag in the staff room. From her ID her name was Bertha” He stopped for a moment and looked out towards the service station,  “she had kids and it was her first day here” 
Amelia turned back around and sat for a moment. “That's terrible” Her lips formed a fine line. There was always so much damage. Now these kids wouldn’t have a mum and that was something she knew all too well. “I hope we catch this bastard.” 
Jack looked back to the front of the car. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.
He picked up a couple of recipes from the gear box. 
“What do they say?” Amelia asked. 
“There are recipes from this service station, apparently they have been coming here all week” 
He then turned one round to face her. “And it seems you were right, definitely heading out of town” 
Amelia took the receipt from his hand and inspected it in the light.  It was a receipt from a Heathrow parking lot. 
“Interesting” She mused. She turned back to face jack,  “I think we should inform Nikki”
Amelia was still inspecting the car when Jack returned with the team.
“How do you know?” she DCI  De Freitas ask as the team walked round the back of the car. 
“Amy and I found receipts for petrol, snacks, flowers and coffee” 
As they came to a halt, Amelia stepped back out of the car. “Yesterday they came here twice. - at 11:34 and 17:53” 
DCI De Freitas came to stand behind Amelia, she reluctantly moved out the way to let her have a look inside the vehicle. She took a step back and walked to the front of the car. Jack began to explain to everyone what they had found. 
She rolled her neck. Man she was tired. Hungry as well, quiet frankly she really didn’t want there to be a bloody sniper on the loosing. The brunette still was wary, the open space was making her anxious. Not that she would display her anxiety though as that would be very unprofessional. 
“Dr Alexander ?” 
Amelia turned back to face the group. In her hands, Nikki held a paper crane.
“That err.. That chimes with my first examination of the bodies. Steven Lakhani, unshaven, untrimmed nails, greasy hair and some body odour.  Andrea Lakhani looks under weight, no make up, traces of a manicure but its not recent and the same with her hair”
“I think something went wrong for the couple before they were killed” Jack stated while leaning against the top of the car. 
“Oh yeah?” Cloud challenged. 
 “Yeah” Amelia interrupted in a serious tone, she approached DS Cloud slowly sizing him up. The man looked bored. Very interested in leaving. He seemed to have no respect for the gathering of ideas and evidence. 
“They had a house five miles away, but they chose to stay in a hotel by the airport”   
DS Cloud broke eye contact and looked away from her. 
She really did not like this man. 
“You’ve got to ask, why couldn’t they go home?” she inquired. Cloud continued to look disinterested in her hypothesis. She felt her two colleagues watching her intently. It was rare for her to become so riled up so quickly. 
A woman, short hair, pale skin approached the group. “Mam, the Chief commissioner wants an update” 
As the DCI walked off to talk to, who Amelia could only assume was the chief commissioner, she turned and walked towards the woman standing near her. She took a breath. 
“Hello, my names Amelia Rowell” she smiled at the woman who seemed surprised by her interaction. 
“Gabby” she said, “Nice to meet you Amelia” She gave Amelia a small smile and crossed her arms over her chest. 
“This is going to be a hassle for the higher ups right?” Amelia attempted to lighten the mood. 
“You have no idea” Gabby replied shaking her head slightly. “Talking of higher ups” 
A man approached them and began talking Gabby.  Amelia saw this as her time to leave. 
She looked at her watch. 9:35am. Time to pack up some evidence! 
She walked over to the car, joining Nikki and Jack. 
“Bag this all up and process it more at the Lyell” Nikki said She stopped as Amelia approached. Turning to her she joked “Cloud pressing your buttons much?” 
Amelia gave her an awkward smile. “Obvious much?” 
“Its not like you to be so fiery” Jack said raising his eyebrow at her. 
“Yeah” Nikki agreed “Are you feeling aright?” 
Amelia thought for a second, looking away. “Just a little peachy today.” She looked back at them and smiled “You know me, I’m fine”
Jack watched her for a second, obviously not expecting that type of answer. Nikki gave her a small smile and a nodded. Before she could respond, her phone rang. 
“Thomas?” Nikki smiled, it faltered for a second and her tone became more serious. “Okay, I’ll let them know” 
“What's wrong?” Amy asked. She crossed her arms and watched Nikki put  the phone down from her ears hesitantly. She had her suspicions and really did not what to be right. Nikki looked at her with a grim expression. 
“There may have been another shooting”
*******************************************************************************************
The day ticked on from there. Nikki, Thomas and Jack went to investigate the second shooting. Amelia headed back to the Lyell. She had a lot of logging to do. Not just for this new sniper case but for her independent work as well. She strolled in. 
“Morning Clarissa, how's my favourite lady?” 
“Good morning Amelia” Clarissa sung back. “I’m just preparing the space for the bodies, is it true? Sniper on the loose?” 
Amelia stopped at her desk “ We don’t really know much. Three people dead, suspected forth” 
“Confirmed forth”
“What seriously!” Amelia gaped. 
“Nikki confirmed it, you guys have to be careful” 
“We’ve got to get him Clarissa” Amelia mumbled. 
“We will Amelia, we will”   
 File after file, Amelia made her way categorising every piece of evidence she had. She has received an email from Thomas, it contained all the pictures new crime scene. A women probably around the same age as her had been shot in the side of the head.
 A large coffee cup was placed directly in front of her. For a second she just stared at the coffee. Then looked up at Jack with a blank expression. Amelia hadn’t even noticed the team coming in. She narrowed her eyes slightly and cautiously took the coffee from his hands. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. ‘Oh my word’ 
Her face lit up. “Caramel!” 
Jack smiled. “Of course, what else” 
This day had definitely got ten times better. 
“Thanks Jack you are actually a life saver!” 
As he walked away to his desk he laughed and said “I know Amy, I know. What would you do without me?” 
Amelia smiled to herself.  She really didn’t know. 
Later Clarissa had the results on the ballistics. Everyone huddled around her desk. 
“Bullet from the tree is a 308 ball round, the snipers ammo of choice. Easy to shoot. Superior terminal ballistics. Predictable trajectory, even in high winds”
“Any trace?” Gabby asked.
“Negative for prints” Clarissa shook her head, “I’ve swabbed for DNA, but I doubt it’d survive with the heat of the firing and impact”
“What kind of range are we talking?” 
“If you know what your doing, you can score reliable hits, from up to eight hundred metres in all but the most extreme weather conditions” Clarissa continued. 
“And if you just want to hit anything?” Gabby frowned. 
“There have been documented fatalities at well over one thousand metres with this bullet” 
Wonderful... 
After six hours of typing she was done. Done! She had finished. Everything was were everything needed to be. Amelia glanced at everyone in the office. Clarissa was hard at work typing away, Thomas was in his office on the phone, Jack looked very focused looking up whatever he was looking up. 
They were getting somewhere. This sniper would be found. Yet, she was sure the sniper wasn’t finished. 
She watched Thomas stand up from his chair, that uneasy feeling greeted her again. 
“There's been another shooting” 
Immediately everyone started moving, Jack ran to get Nikki. Clarissa began making phone calls. Amelia grabbed her coat from her chair and caught Thomas’s eye. 
“No” 
Amelia looked at Thomas sharply. “What?” 
“I need you to look into something for me” 
“But surely this is more important Thomas?”
Amelia crossed her arms over her chest. 
 “Fine” she said sharply. She sat back down at her desk. It seemed the independent inquiry was more pressing then she first assumed. 
“Is everything okay?” Nikki asked suddenly. 
“Yes everything is fine” Thomas said while “Amelia, I’ve emailed you the extra information” 
And with that they were gone.
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kazliin · 3 years
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So, just today I dreamt about Rivals and I have to tell it because I liked it haha. Well, the thing goes right in the scene where Viktor follows Yuuri to the bathroom and sees him about to take the pills for anxiety. 1/3
That's the context, however, Viktor instead of seeing him with the pills, he hears screams coming from the bathroom and when he looks out he sees that Yuuri is cornered, with his head down and shrunk in fear while his coach yells at the top of his lungs that he is useless and that he brought shame and dishonor to his country by continuing to lose to Viktor, 2/3
while Viktor looks completely outraged and furious as the coach abused Yuuri and Yuuri kept his head down and eyes watery accepting the insults. That's when he learns that Yuuri's whole obsession with winning the gold was to satisfy his coach and because he had manipulated him all those years to make him believe that if he didn't win, he would be a disappointment to his family and his country. 3/3
All super dramatic, but I liked what seems like a combination of your fic with another one I read out there hahaha xd How do you think Viktor would have reacted in this situation and what would the scene have been like? I guess just as dramatic as the original hahaha <3. (Sorry, that was too much text, I got excited, this is the final part jeje)
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I think Viktor would be extremely pissed and immediately start yelling back at the coach about how Yuuri is one of the best skaters there is and no-one should be talking to him like that. And then he’d probably drag Yuuri into a private room and try to convince him that none of that is true and he needs to drop his coach and find someone who appreciates and supports him. And then would probably offer to train Yuuri himself if Yuuri wants him to
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lady-divine-writes · 4 years
Text
Good Omens - Dodge and Parry (Rated NC17)
Summary: Crowley discovers that he is rather enamored of his angel's bruises ... especially the ones that go farther than skin deep. (2006 words)
Notes: I wrote this for Kinktober 2020, the prompt 'bruises'. So I was going to write a piece about bruise worship, which this sort of is, but it went much deeper. I will try to come up with something kinkier and more fun another time XD
Read on AO3.
“How does that feel, angel?” Crowley asks, soaking his washcloth completely, then wringing it out over Aziraphale’s scalp. “Too hot? Too cold?”
“Neither.” Aziraphale hums happily with eyes shut. “It’s perfect. Sublime, I should say. Like soaking in a nice, warm cup of tea.”
“We’ve added enough dried flowers and wot not that you could just be,” Crowley comments, swiping a hand through the water, swatting at a cluster of rose petals, lavender, sweet jasmine, and chamomile.
“Hmm. Then you could drink me,” Aziraphale says, sinking deeper into the steaming water.
“Ngk … I … I could …” Crowley stumbles, but he recovers, a triumph since that remark from his angel almost had him choking on his tongue. “But let’s save the sweet stuff for later, eh? We’ve gotta get you fixed up.”
“Yes … let’s. Then … I can do you …” Aziraphale mumbles, drifting off, his cheeks rosy from the warmth and the company. Crowley soaps up his cloth and runs it over Aziraphale’s arm, sliding past a mark that has blossomed considerably since he last saw it. He runs the cloth over it again and it seems to darken, the cream-colored suds rinsing into cloudy water and revealing a plethora of purples swirled together, related to one another by hues, tiny freckles sprouting along the fringe like shy violets.
A galaxy of them really.
Crowley isn’t normally fond of scars and bruises, especially on his angel. Aziraphale bears many types of blacks and blues, with varied stories behind them. Older scars on Aziraphale’s corporation - ones following mortal paths and having faded to silver - come by way of other angels who delight in his suffering. Crowley has seen every one of those, categorized their existence, set their placements to memory. A touch of his fingertips tells him when they were created … and by whom.
Crowley has gathered a list of enemies on his angel’s behalf, and that list is long.
Very long.
Not all of angel’s bruises are visible to the naked, mortal eye, but they’ve dimmed his aura considerably.
Crowley never thought the humans’ quarantine would get to Aziraphale. Being locked inside, forbidden to go out and socialize, leaving him heaps of time to read his books, seemed like a dream come true. With no one coming into his shop to browse, there was nothing keeping him from doing his crossword puzzles till his heart’s content. And it seemed that way for the first few months.
But it didn’t stay that way.
More and more, Crowley would catch his angel sitting in a chair by the window, staring up at the sky, sighing deeply as if for a long lost love, which seemed utterly preposterous to Crowley since every book Aziraphale could ever want lay in a stack beside him. Aside from that, he had his music. And cake! Why, they’d been baking cake every single day! So much cake, in fact, that any poor soul who so much as poked their head out of their door received a cardboard baker’s box packed to bursting with confections, passed along at a socially safe distance courtesy of a long, wooden shepherd’s crook.
And thanks to a wonderful service with a mildly vulgar name, whenever Aziraphale so desired, a delivery person dropped by with a box of his favorite sushi, which Crowley generously tipped for.
But Aziraphale still wasn’t happy. And he was becoming less happy by the day.
Something had changed.
He mentioned several times to Crowley that he felt hemmed in; that lately, being locked inside made it difficult for him to breathe. He longed to walk through the park, soak in the sunshine (when it made itself available), and feed the ducks again.
Crowley didn’t understand it. Aziraphale despised exercise to such a degree that if he sat at Crowley’s kitchen table, preparing to sup, and discovered that he’d left the butter in the fridge, he’d rather do without then to get up and fetch it.
It wasn’t until days later, when Crowley found a stack of newspaper clippings hiding underneath Aziraphale’s ledger, that he began to catch on:
Covid cases increase rapidly as next steps planned
'Tier Three' Covid restrictions in announcement on Monday
More than 80% of positive UK cases in study had no core symptoms
It wasn’t the toll quarantine was taking on Aziraphale. It was the toll this disease that caused the need for a quarantine was taking on the humans he was so fond of. That time spent staring at the sky, Aziraphale spent praying, wondering why the Almighty would let this continue, let so many of Her beloveds die and for what?
From the expression on his angel’s face after, Crowley assumed he got no answers.
It was like the Ark all over again, only without the refreshing rain, and with no rainbow in sight.
Determined to take his mind off of it, Crowley arranged a private movie marathon for his angel at his flat. They sat on his sofa with homemade snacks and watched some old Errol Flynn movies. And it worked! After a while, Crowley started watching Aziraphale more than the film, his angel that much more entertaining. Aziraphale had started the way he watched every movie - sitting primly upright, hands folded in his lap, eyes glued to the screen. But over time, he’d started to inch forward, lean in, muscles twitching to recreate the fight scenes - the swipes of a sword, the parries, his feet shuffling enthusiastically in place to mimic the steps of the actors’ retreats like they were performing a gavotte.
Encouraged that this was a way to break through Aziraphale’s melancholy, Crowley recommended they dig out the old fencing foils and have at it, sans protective gear in honor of old Errol. Besides, they didn’t need it.
“Oh! No, no, no!” Aziraphale argued at first, even with a smile on his lips. “I couldn’t! It’s been so long!”
“Nonsense!” Crowley retorted, heading for his closet. “You were an expert swordsman centuries ago. I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully now. It’s like riding a bicycle.”
“And how’s that, dear?”
“Once you fall off, you get right back on.” Crowley tossed Aziraphale a foil, which he caught without looking, and Crowley smirked knowingly.
Crowley didn’t give Aziraphale a chance to back out, didn’t salute him like at the beginning of an official duel. Crowley came at him like a buccaneer, crowing and catching Aziraphale off-guard. But Aziraphale fought back. He wasn’t upset by Crowley’s abrupt start. On the contrary. He laughed at Crowley’s antics, especially when he tried to evade by climbing over the sofa, and then onto an end table. His joy was infectious. It rang through Crowley’s flat, made the plants (which had initially recoiled at the sound of clashing metal) stand straighter, wave their leaves and cheer. It rose up inside Crowley as if the joy were his own, making him laugh, too.
Laugh till he snorted, which he hadn’t done in a long time.
But it didn’t last as long as Crowley had hoped.
Aziraphale got lost somewhere in the fight, lost in thinking, his mind drifting in all directions while he dodged and parried by rote. His face grew tense, his expression morphing from concentration to anger … to vengeance. He went after Crowley with clouded eyes, as if everything pent up inside him - the sadness and the anxiety - had found a weak spot in Aziraphale’s armor.
And now, it was starting to break through.
Crowley didn’t know who Aziraphale saw when he looked at him. Those world leaders who didn’t take this pandemic seriously, who didn’t act quick enough, who were greedy.
Beelzebub and the Dukes of Hell, whom Aziraphale credited for the speed in which this disease took hold, and the blind, stubborn stupidity of those who refused to do their part to stop it.
Gabriel, who has long since laughed off any correspondence Aziraphale has sent him regarding the matter, rejecting the last dozen with a very snarky ‘Return to sender!’ emblazoned in gold across the envelope.
Or the Almighty, who has the power to stop this but who has refused, and doesn’t have the decency to tell him why.
Or maybe he simply saw Crowley, who treated the whole thing like a joke, not only taking a nap for the first few months but then extending it, leaving Aziraphale alone when he might have needed him most.
Aziraphale attacked, closing in on Crowley fast, fighting with more fist than blade, and Crowley defended.
They struck one another at the same time - Aziraphale bringing his wrist down on the bridge of Crowley’s nose, Crowley’s guard-covered fist coming up to block and accidentally clocking Aziraphale on the jaw.
Both stumbled back, seeing stars.
Had they been human, Crowley’s nose would have broken, and Aziraphale’s jaw would have shattered. As was, Crowley’s nose ended up a bit crooked till a minute ago when Aziraphale snapped his fingers and set it straight. Aziraphale’s jaw still sported an indigo bruise reminiscent of a mum.
“Oh … oh my dear boy! I am so sorry!” Aziraphale apologized profusely when he saw Crowley’s nose, blood pooling underneath.
“Wot?” Crowley sniffed, wiping his Cupid’s bow with the back of his hand, examining the stain left behind with swimming eyes. “Oh, this? It’s nothing. Barely a scratch. Think nothing of it.”
“But … but …” Aziraphale stuttered, on the verge of tears. He dropped his sword, almost dropped to his knees, too, but Crowley hurried forward and gathered him up, wrapped him in his arms and held him.
“It’s all right,” he whispered, hugging Aziraphale tight. “It’s going to be all right, angel.”
“Do you … do you really think so?”
“Yes,” Crowley said with a sigh. Whether he did or not didn’t actually matter. But no one, angel or human, was going to get through today and on to the next if they didn’t believe it was at least possible. Crowley had to hold Aziraphale together, even if he did it with lies. He had to keep the one angel left on earth who still cared going. “I do.”
That’s when Aziraphale’s tears began to fall.
Crowley held him.
An hour went by, and Crowley held him.
Crowley declared Aziraphale the winner, and as a reward, offered to give him a bath and miracle him healed.
But when he got his angel naked and saw the bruises glowing on his skin, he hesitated. He shouldn’t be attracted to them. He shouldn’t find them appealing. On top of being physical damage to Aziraphale’s skin, some of them were bred out of despair. They should have repulsed Crowley, but they were actually glorious, like a small corner of impressionist art brought to life and tattooed on his skin.
Because not all of these new bruises, exploding with vibrant color and depth, were bad. They happened when Aziraphale was still smiling, still laughing. When his leg banged the corner of a table during a particularly rowdy retreat. When he tried to follow Crowley vaulting over the back of the sofa, misstepped, and landed on his knee. When their foils tangled together and Crowley accidentally kicked Aziraphale in the thigh in his effort to separate them. Aziraphale had watched Crowley fly backward, land on his heel, and spin three times like a ballerina, stopping in a perfect arabesque, just to then trip over air and land in a chair. Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed so hard, he walked right into Crowley’s (blunted) sword, the flat tip leaving its circular shadow behind.
Those bruises …
Those are bruises of pleasure.
They run deeper than skin.
And Crowley is quite satisfied by that.
Crowley almost regrets his promise to rid Aziraphale of them.
But being the one who gets to heal Aziraphale is an honor all its own.
However, he realizes with a grin, there is a way to get them back.
He’ll memorize these, too. Their exact locations.
And freshen them up later with his mouth.
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