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verus-veritas · 3 years

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Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

#possession #revenge #selflove #love #dark #permanent #identity theft #mine

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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

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Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt vern #prankwars #tmnt headcanons #tmnt bayverse #bayverse donatello #writing requests

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fireemblems24 · 3 years

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Dimitri's Supports

I have waited FOREVER for this. Let's go. And I decided to put my patience to the test, saving Dedue for last.

Since it's Dimitri and I love him, and like Dedue who I also love, he's the only one unlocking all his A-Supports, I'm going to blog all my reactions to them like I did with Dedue. Part of me wishes I thought of this for the other characters, but honestly it would've taken forever lol. Plus Dimitri and Dedue get special treatment because I said so.

Raphael

Starting off with something light hearted, I hope. I do wonder if I'm going to regret not saving this one for the inevitably heavy-handed stuff coming later.

I'm seriously betting this is a support you're supposed to get in part 1 lol. Dimitri sounds young (or maybe I'm just haven't heard non-growl part 2 Dimitri enough yet?)

Dimitri's training made Raphael think he was dying lol. Dimitri's strength is really meme tier.

I need fanart of Dimitri and Chrom co-miserating their mishandled strength breaking something. And Lucina.

Lamo, Raphael has never felt a cramp before. Lucky bastard.

Raphael is a sweetie, going to apologize to his muscles. I really wish they gave him something else to talk about other than muscles and food. Not everyone needs Dimitri tier development, but I think I'd like Raphael a lot more if he just got a smidge more depth.

Got to say, it's a bit jarring to go from "moments away from a suicide charge in the rain" to "lol, Raphael, it's muscle pain." As glad as I am that I got this support, I do think some should've been locked to part 1.

And this isn't just for Dimitri's development. I also saw Marianne and Raphael's B before this support and she reverted back to her part 1 self too.

Catherine

Maybe it's just me, but he does sound a bit older.

OMG - Dimitri's back. 😭😭😭

Sorry, it didn't really hit in that first one since that seemed like a part 1 support.

Oh, cool! I was wondering if anyone would bring up Catherine returning to Faerghus. My bets is she's too loyal to Rhea. (I guessed right)

Catherine be simpin. That's ok, I get it.

So it's not because Catherine dislikes Dimitri, or that she's absolutely needed to rule House Charon, so I think Dimitri just likes her. She's cool though. I get it.

Lamo, she told him he'd better get his sleep like he's a kid.

Curious how the A+ support will play out.

Mercedes

Team Mom's support!

Oh, no, this one's taking a serious turn isn't it? But their initial supports were so light and cute.

Mercedes just told Dimitri that he's kind to a fault. Somehow I know he's going to deny that.

Annnnnd I'm right 😭😭😭He's still calling himself a killer and disgusting monster 😭😭😭

OK - so THIS seems perfectly in tone with his recent character development. But it's so sad hearing him still talk about himself that way.

Mercedes is such a therapist. I can't. She's too pure. But savage. I saw that Lorenz support.

"I am scared . . . so scared that I will forget their faces." 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Dimitri why????

Mercedes telling Dimitri to live in the present. Her supports are always so good. I legit think she's easily a top 10 favorite in this game.

Wow, Dimitri saying if someone told him that 5 years ago, he'd be different. DID NO ONE EVER GIVE HIM ANY HELP AT ALL???

I love how she's talking to him as a classmate, and equal, and not talking up to him. He's always wanted that.

Dimitri's never given his own dreams any thought 😭😭😭He really was just 100% living for other people most of the time. 😭😭😭

Awww MERCEDES, I can't. She says she just wants to keep being his friend. This is so damn sweet. And heavy. But still sweet.

It just hits super hard knowing how badly Dimitri just wanted friends in part 1. And looking back, Mercedes and Sylvain were really the only two who were pretty casual with him.

Aww, yeah, Mercedes not putting up with the bullshit, Dimitri. Telling him to quit the self-deprecation! God, I love her.

Oh, God, they both said the old FE code for "we're married" i.e. I want to "stay by your side."

Ok, @garlandgerard, I totally get why you ship this. Mercedes loves to nurture people, and Dimitri's emotionally needy, so they match pretty well. She also didn't put up with the constant self-put-downs, but stayed gentle about it. And they talked like equals too, like friends, which is what Dimitri always wanted. It's all very sweet.

Annette

Yeah, see, this one starts off with "your highness," but Mercedes it was just Dimitri. No hate for Annette. She's my girl.

These two always give me sibling vibes.

Haha, Annette "I thought I already knew you, but I'm not sure I really do." Hmmmm wonder what Dimitri did that made her think that maybe there's parts of him she didn't know. No. idea.

Hey, Annette, no one blames you for not knowing what to say to Dimitri when they reunited lol.

Annette too pure too, wanting to cheer Dimitri up with his favorite food.

Her not knowing what he likes to eat is 100% that moment when you realize you don't know someone's favorite color.

HOW can Dimitri have no strong feelings about food. I'm having pizza right now. Let me tell you, I have strong feelings about some food.

I love how easily Dimitri deflected from talking about himself lol.

Awwww, Annette wants to live with her family again. I'll make that happen, Annette. Don't worry.

Haha, they're conspiring together behind Gilbert's back.

They still have an A+ support, which is weird, because that seemed pretty well ended? Like I see why Catherine's needed more, but not this one. Still, not going to say no. I like their dynamic.

Ingrid

OCF they're training. God I love all the Faerghus childhood group though.

Oh, fuck, here comes Glenn again. My heart's not ready for this with Rodrigue dead. Poor Felix.

Ingrid being Dimitri's knight 😊😊😊 as it should be.

Haha, Dimitri asks her for an interpretation. Just make her your knight.

Glad he hasn't started saying "I'm not worthy!" Because right now it's about Ingrid's feelings.

Wow, there, Ingrid. "However you please, Your Highness." That . . . that sounds like an invitation. To "staying by your side."

Dimitri laughed. 😊😊😊

Oh, God, this is so cute. His pause asking her to support and defend him as his knight. 😊😊😊 OMG. I'm not sure that's all she had in mind though, good Sir, have you LOOKED in the mirror?

Seriously though, Ingrid's just surrounded by studs, isn't she?

Oh, God, I'm right. She didn't just mean knight. But Dimitri's too dense in that area to notice. She crushing hard. Girl, I get you.

She blushing, saying "for the Kingdom," naw, she just like him. Me too, Ingrid. Me too.

Dimitri always makes people promise not to die on him. It's so sad considering . . .

Flayn

With Flayn it's always a toss up. Sometimes things are super light hearted, and other times it's way heavy.

On a random note, does no one wonder why Flayn hasn't aged a day in 5 years?

Flayn having nightmares. Not allowed. I bet it's fucking Jeritza's fault. I'm glad you get to rip him a new one so many times in this game.

Why is Flayn apologizing?? She's never done a thing wrong in her life.

Right, Flayn's other support with Dimitri was pretty heavy. And it started so funny with him stomaching her food.

Oh, good grief, what's he apologizing for? Ok - so Dimitri did do some things wrong. But not to Flayn.

He lied. Let me guess. Her food actually sucks.

Aw, got it. He went right to the meal. Is he really going to come out and say, well it actually sucked 😂

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE MEALS???? AND THE TEA an embarrassing amount of tea.

Wait. He can't taste ANYTHING??? Like. How? Did he hide that????

Ok - I need to look at his team and dining dialogue.

OMG. He really never says a word about how anything tastes? He always just talks about smells????

OMG. How did I NOT NOTICE. I've taken Dimitri to dinner a million times. And tea timed him too many times to admit too.

AND I NEVER NOTICED HE NEVER ONCE SAID HOW ANYTHING TASTED. HOW.

OMG that support with Annette hits different now 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

OMG and Dedue's support with Flayn hits different now. Since he wanted to badly to find food Dimitri loves 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Does Dedue know? Is that why he's so dedicated to cooking??

Can I headcannon that?

OMG, I feel so awful about that jab about pizza. Dimitri CAN'T TASTE pizza or anything 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Please someone tell me there isn't any more "this awful thing also happened to Dimitri and he's failed to tell you" like learning he almost fucking died at Duscur. And now this. Dimitri needs to learn how to fucking complain.

The writers are so fucking mean to Dimitri. OMG. OMG, how am I supposed to take him to dinner and tea now, knowing this?

Why does everything hit so differently now? And so many Blue Lions supports are about food - but Dimitri can't relate

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

This game needs to stop bullying Dimitri.

But like, God, can you imagine? Not tasting anything? I'd starve. I'd actually starve. I never really get hungry. I really would starve.

On the flip side, he's good for Flayn then, since someone can eat her cooking I guess.

"I was just saying what I thought you would want to hear . . ." Dimitri - a summary.

Naw, that's a kind lie. That kind of lie doesn't really hurt anyone.

Oh - dear God. Flayn. Stop. No sampling pungent food.

Oh, she blushing. Dimitri got her blushing

Please tell me in their paired ending Dimitri gets his taste back.

Oh, there's an A+, does he taste something. Please tell me he tastes something.

This support though. It wasn't really one on my radar but

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Gilbert

Oh, man, this one right after Flayn's. God, I'm going to need the Alois one after this. Gilbert and Dimitri are two of the most somber characters in the franchise.

And I haven't forgotten that heartbreaking B support.

Haha Lambert sucked at lying too. Dimitri too pure. Weirdly, despite everything, it's still pretty true.

Oh, shit, oh shit, we're back to Dimitri's demand that Gilbert kill him. I'm betting you usually get that in part 2.

God, imagine seeing Dimitri recover only to see him beg for death again 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I need alcohol.

I need the Alois support.

OMG, shit, Dimitri. No. Don't. Stop.

Like, I know Gilbert won't really kill him, but damn. This support is heavy.

No, Dimitri, no Gilbert is not cruel for not killing you. God.

Oh, not sure about this. I get what Gilbert's going at here, but telling Dimitri that he's not allowed to die because he's got a duty is . . . I think Rodrigue's and Mercedes' live for what you want/the present is a LOT healthier.

At the same time, this is a pretty effective way to make sure Dimitri won't go and try this again, because he really takes duty seriously.

Dimitri doesn't wish to die? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, thank God.

"Many times I have felt that I cannot afford to die . . . But this was the first time I truly feared the prospect." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"Is it really right for me to live?" Oh, dear God. I'm so soft for Dimitri. I can't.

Gilbert answered that one right. 100%.

Damn, these supports.

Alois

OK. I need this one. I really need this one.

I really hope Alois' inspiration is bad puns. I need bad puns right now.

Pretty sure this is a part 1 support though. I love how Alois, not Dimitri, is leading this. And that the person the Kingdom NEEDS is running around and getting attacked by monsters lol

Ok, bad puns. Bring them.

There we go. Thank you, thank you, Alois.

OMG no one's laughing 😂😂😂

Dimitri's laughing 😭😭😭😭😭😭

That's it. This is always getting saved for part 2. I need to hear part 2 Dimitri laugh.

I'm also so glad someone finds Alois funny. Dimitri and Petra need to start a club.

OMG I love the two other confused soldiers. I needed this 😂😂😂

Marianne

These two were so sweet in their C and B supports.

I swear I'm going to end up shipping Dimitri with everyone. Except maybe Annette, no hate, they just seem so much like brother and sister to me.

And Felix x Annette 100%

Survivor's Guilt - the pairing. Both wondering why they survived 😭😭😭

"There are so many others who are much more deserving of life . . ." - who said it? Marianne or Dimitri?

These two just understand how each other feels so well. It hits so different compared to Marianne's other romantic possible supports where they just try to make her smile.

Instead these two take comfort in finding someone who understands how they feel so well and feel relieved they can share that with someone.

Haha - "I must go on living. I cannot give in to death so readily." This coming right after his support with Gilbert. Good job, Gilbert.

They've both had it so rough 😭😭😭😭😭😭

"There is no need to force yourself to smile as your soul bleeds." Dimitri always gives such good advice that he never follows.

Aww, now at least it's getting cute instead of just heavy. Marianne laughed too 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Yesss, Girl, preach. I got a little sick of her other supports all being "cheer up!" Like I know it's all in good faith, but I'm so glad this chain exists. It just hits different.

Dimitri doesn't think he's strong enough to live his life. 😭😭😭 this game. I swear.

ohhhh - ohhh, Dimitri blushing now. And all she needed to say was they've been brought closer together. Congrats Marianne!

OHHHH tables have been turned. Now someone's making Dimitri promise he needs to live!

"I don't know what I'd do with myself if we lost you . . ."

"I promise to the goddess of Fodlan that I will never give you cause for despair."

OMG these two are being so sweet, I can't. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

Felix

Oh, boy, here we go. This should be . . . interesting.

Oh, we're starting off good I see. Felix telling Dimitri he needs to answer quickly or get cut in half 😔Felix. No.

Dimitri sounds so somber 😭

Dimitri admitting both are him - the vengeful "boar" and the friendly good person. And this is why I love him.

Dimitri feels the need to shoulder all the regret the dead feel, please don't. They wouldn't want that 😭😭😭😭😭

"The dead won't acknowledge your loyalty, they don't care." - Felix not wrong there.

I partly agree with the idea Dimitri is "serving his own ego" by claiming he's acting for the dead. I think it's a bit more complicated than that, but I think that's part of it.

Felix saying some good stuff here about the dead being dead and the living being living.

"If you keep stringing gravestones around your neck, you'll snap." - Felix, I don't know if you noticed but . . . uh . . . he sort of did.

Felix telling Dimitri to become a grave keeper is a bit funny. Not going to lie.

"I'm not immune to emotion you know." - just tsunderes things

Aw, Felix is upset his father died 😭😭 after all that shit-talking about Rodrigue 😭😭

Wish Felix didn't cut Dimitri off when he said "more than anyone you-" (care about other people, unless he joins CF and just kills everyone)

Oh, God, Felix is such a tsundere. "I couldn't stand the pathetic look on your face. That's all." Sure, Felix.

Kinda wish these two had an A+ though. Seems like there's more to do than the A+ with Annette and Flayn.

Really curious to see what their paired ending is like after that. Seems they're still learning to learn about each other. Well, Felix is. Dimitri didn't seem too upset lol.

Dedue

Ok guys. Here we go. I can't believe I managed to wait for this for last. Everyone hyped this one, so let's hope.

Really? We open with Dimitri having scars on his back? 😭

From 9 years ago? So scars from Duscur then?

Images of shirtless Dimitri now. though Not bad images.

He got scars protecting Dedue?

"It makes me think that is was worthwhile that someone like me survived." 😭😭😭 he's talking about protecting Dedue? 😭😭😭

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"But I saved someone - saved you. That and that alone has been my crutch." 😭😭😭😭😭

I always knew these two were co-dependent.

Dimitri really out here saying that saving Dedue helped him "justify" surviving. 😭😭😭😊😊😊

OMG THAT'S THEIR STORY

OMG, poor Dedue. And Dimitri 😭😭😭did he literally "take a bullet" to save Dedue 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 and still has scars? No wonder Dedue's so loyal. Some kid he didn't know did that. That's one hell of an introduction.

And picturing little Dedue just resigned and angry and waiting to die and just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh, Dedue, you've repaid that debt ten-fold I'm sure.

Ahaha, Dimitri's doing the "you'd better accept your worth!" discussion this time lol.

Dear God these two. Now Dimitri's bringing up that Dedue busted him out of the jail.

I swear, these two have more of a plot off screen than some routes do on screen.

And now picturing Dimitri resigned and just ready to die. And then Dedue busts in. 😭😭😭

"That was nothing more than my duty as your vassal." Stop that Dedue. Dimitri doesn't want you to be his vassal. He wants more.

Holy shit.

"You are irreplaceable. Cherished." 😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊😭😭😭😊😊😊

Not to be that person - but I tell all my "friends" that.

Yes, Dedue, stop saying insisting you're just a "vassal" - that's a worse joke than Alois' puns from earlier.

"Please . . . do not look at me that way." What way, like you're about to make Dimitri cry, or like . . .

"You promised me you would build a Kingdom that is proud to boast of Duscur blood." - shit, man, these two. I just . . .

OMG so much emotion from Dedue. The only time I ever heard that before was in VW when he learned Dimitri died. But let's not remember that right now 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh shit. He called him "Dimitri." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊

And it made him blush.

OMG.

Guys, these two.

Aww, Dimitri looks so surprised. 😊😊😊😊😊😊

Oh, these two are so soft for each other. I can't. I just can't.

"To be your friend . . . is what I have always wanted." You're going to get it.

Man, I feel almost guilty S-Supporting Dimitri. He needs to pair up with Dedue pronto.

Dimitri sounds chocked up. OMG.

"So please call upon me when you walk alone at night." Ok. Dedue. Ok. Yes. Guys. This is all very straight.

I'm not saying it's - you know - cannon, but there's some big feels here.

Oh, Dimitri, stop it. You like Dedue's overprotectiveness. Don't lie.

Man, you guys were so right. Dimitri really just came out and said Dedue was "cherished" and "irreplaceable." Like, I'm not making this stuff up. And Dedue blushing hardcore just saying Dimitri's name.

They're both just so soft. I can't. I literally cannot. This support was gold. It was worth all they hype.

And learning more about how they meant. Dimitri really taking a bullet for Dedue there. I just . . .

I just want all the happiness for both of them. They're really something special towards each other. Like I legitimately think this is one of the most two-way loyal relationships in the whole franchise, and definitely the tightest bond in this game.

Like in past games you had Seth for Ephraim and Erikia and Soren for Ike and it's not like Ike, Ephraim and Erikia and etc don't care, but it wasn't the same level, you know? But this is such a two way street.

And I'm so weak for bodyguard with a crush. Like Seth/Eirika? Yes. Geoffrey/Elincia? 100%. Riza/Roy (Fullmetal Alchemist) there again. I'm sure there's more, but those are my top ones. Even Merlin/Arthur sort of counts even if Arthur doesn't know Merlin's his bodyguard lol.

I need to read fanfic for these two. I really don't want to spoil anything, but I'm dying. They're both just so sweet, and I just really love their dynamic. I really want to do a write up on it once I get to the end of the game.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #fe3h #fe16

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writer-panda · 3 years

Text

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

Chapter 1 -|- Previous -|- Next

The Hit on the Groom and What Became of It - Chapter 4/I’ll never let you down (in an open casket)

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As she hanged up, Marinette rushed to the doors and let her mother in. The previous night she spent mostly on working with Kwamis to prepare. Most were in agreement that she needed to act and not leave her kitty’s fate to chance. Tikki protested for a bit, but in the end, she saw that there was no changing Marinette’s mind and joined in on scheming. Except she had no way of tracking Adrien. Not… until she received the call!

Except now her mother entered. Sabine greeted her daughter by giving her a bone-crushing hug.

“I was so worried! When the police called I couldn’t just sit there and wait!”

“Maman. It’s alright. I’m okay. See?” The girl did break away from the hug and smiled.

“I know. But I couldn’t help but worry.”

“Maman… Adrien’s been kidnapped.”

“I know.” Her mother’s expression didn’t reveal any emotions now.

“I… he’s been miserable ever since that wedding mess, and now this.”

“I know.” Again, nothing.

“He’s my friend.”

“Not the love of your life?” Sabine questioned with a bit of amusement in her voice.

“No. He doesn’t need another fangirl. He needs a friend. Someone who can support him. I… I wasn’t a good friend before this…” She didn’t reveal that she wasn’t a great partner either. Chat hid things well, but from time to time his shell cracked. She should’ve seen the signs. She could’ve done something. Or at least do something with Lila. She had connections and Lila deserved a lawsuit or five.

“Oh, sweety. You were a great friend. You are a great friend. I’m happy to see you’re not about to chase after some misguided love, but after friendship.”

“I know I’m only… wait, what?” Marinette.exe stopped working. If the problem keeps repeating itself, please contact customer service or the nearest Kwami.

“When I was fifteen, I dropped out of… school to explore the world on my own. It wasn’t until a few years later that I met your father.” Sabine said in a bit dreamy voice like she was reminiscing. “We had several adventures across Europe before finally settling down in Paris.”

“But… Papa’s a baker.” Marinette protested. “I thought he was always a baker, like his father.”

In response, her mother chuckled. “No. Your father had much more in common with your Nona than with his father. I met him when he was fighting in an underground cage-fighting club.”

“Whoa…” Marinette’s eyes widened. That was a story she never heard before. “So how did you two got together?”

“I will tell you some other time. The point is, I know that even if I took you to Paris with me, you would’ve run away to look for your friend.”

“Maman!” For a moment, the girl wanted to protest. But then she decided that there was no point. “Yes… you’re right. But I can’t just let it happen! If the police find him, he will end up back with his father!”

“I know. And what’ll you do about it?” Her mother had this mysterious smirk on her face.

“I guess… I need to be the one to find him. I will get him situated somewhere safe. Maybe stay with him for a bit. He’s smart. And a quick learner.” He mastered being a superhero faster than I did.

“Good. Then you have my blessing.”

“I can’t just abandon-” Marinette.exe stopped working again. Contacting the customer service might be in order. Technically, Sabine kept hinting about it. Practically, Marinette would miss a clue even if she was holding a gun to its head. “I have your what now?”

“You can go. Save him. Find yourself. And maybe kick some asses while you’re at it.”

“Most parents would be worried sick about their not-yet-adult children running off to an adventure.”

“You wanted to know how I met your father. The answer is I was the first to beat him in that cage.” Sabine’s smirk was replaced with a serious expression. “Of course I will worry, sweety. I’m your mother. But holding you back now will not help you. You’re a strong young woman and to be fair, I’m not sure how we could hold you down. You have steady access to the rooftop and two years of parkour training.”

“What now?”

“Did you honestly think we wouldn’t notice you sneaking off through the balcony?”

“And you didn’t even tell me?”

“It would be hypocritical of us.” Sabine defended. “And if the worse came to happen, I had several… souvenirs from our travel around the world.”

“Thank you, Maman. I promise I will come back; And call you often. Well, maybe not too often.” Marinette already dashed to start packing.

“Of course you will. And don’t get into too much trouble. I would hate to have to go and find you.” Sabine threatened with a bright smile on her face.

“I’ll try, Maman.” The girl was only half-listening now. She couldn’t waste any more time. She learned how to trace the call about one-and-a-half years ago when she was still a bit ‘stalker-ish’.

Sabine watched her daughter with amusement. So many memories returned to her now. Youth mostly well-spent if someone asked her. The ‘mostly’ part came to bite her just that moment as her phone pinged. She quickly checked the message and frowned.

“I’m sorry, my little cupcake, but I need to go check it. An old friend turns out to be in town.”

“I’ll call you later!” Marinette called from where she was furiously working on her laptop.

When Sabine left, the kwamis swarmed her immediately.

“Your mom is so cool!” one of them cooed.

“And she’s one bad-”

“Roaar!” Tikki scolded the tiger kwami.

“What’s the plan, pigtails?”

“Adrien’s call was made from within Gotham City. He’s still here for now. I also managed to track him to Burnley.”

“Didn’t that mercenary you called mention some Lawton?” Trixx offered.

“Yeah. I did try to search him up, but the only one with that name that I managed to find is Zoe Lawton. Wait. There is more!” She beamed up. “An old article in some Mexican newspaper.” She clicked on the link and read it aloud for her co-conspirators “Floyd Lawton, also known as Deadshot, was recently arrested after an assassination of a small group of smugglers. It is yet unknown if it was a hit or was it personal.” The article went on, but there was nothing more of interest.

“So the guy’s a mercenary too? That’s good. He’ll bring Adrien to you.”

“Not so fast. I remember hearing about him. Deadshot is one of the few mercenaries who try to keep some resemblance of a code. He’s also noted to be soft around children.”

“Isn’t Adrien almost an adult though?” Kaalki asked rather uncaring.

“Have you met the guy? He’s a literal ray of sunshine!” Plagg protested.

“So… he won’t deliver him and won’t return him.” Seeing that some Kwamis didn’t understand her logic, she clarified, “I don’t think that if he learns how Gabe treated his son he will be in any hurry to return him.”

“That makes sense.” The little being all nodded in agreement.

“So what’s the alternative?”

“He could adopt him,” Ziggy suggested.

“Please.” Marinette dismissed the idea. “He’s not Bruce Wayne.”

“He could smuggle him out of the country.”

“No. Everyone’s looking for him.” Roaar countered. “He would try to lay low somewhere.”

“Burley is large and full of potential safe houses.” Marinette started to think. “But there is also a large concentration of organized crime. Alone, we would have a hard time, but if we got them to help…”

“Is it wise to involve more criminals into your schemes Marinette?” Tikki asked skeptically.

“Don’t worry, sugarcube. To catch a bird you need wings. To catch a criminal you need crime.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“What’s the worse that could happen? I will go there as Seamstress. I won’t even appear in person. Right, Trixx?”

“You can count on it.” The fox kwami grinned.

“But… but…” Tikki wanted to scream her head off. Why did the previous guardian choose a juvenile criminal for her holder. Marinette used to be such a sweet girl. Where did Tikki go wrong?

---------

It was dark when an eerie mist filled one of the less-than-legal clubs in Burnley. From among the smoke, a figure entered. She was wearing a godet-type black dress with a side-cut that reached to her belt. The dress was overlayed with a very visible deep-blue corset that pronounced her blue eyes. It had some intricate laces on it. She also wore a puffy-sleeved blazer (also black, but with a dark blue finish) with large and very pronounced cuffs. Around her neck was a white double jabot fixed to a choker with a large black gem surrounded by diamonds. Her long deep-blue hair was let loose and hung over her shoulder. A simple black-and-white domino mask hid her features.

As she marched, one of her legs shifted the fabric to reveal she was wearing dark-blue socks reaching above her knee and black leather boots. A knife was strapped to the right one and several leather strips around her thigh and knee suggested she had more weapons on her.

One of the men whistled.

“Looks like the entertainment arrived, boys!” Several cheered at that shout. At least until the man who dared to say it ended pinned to a wall with a rather large needle holding his jacket in place. It was also uncomfortably close to his jugular.

“I’m not entertainment.” The Seamstress hissed.

“Then you’re not invited.” Several men got up, many were holding now-empty bottled which they turned into impromptu weapons.

“You will help me find what was taken from me.” She demanded.

“Yeah? Or?” One of the men laughed before charging at her.

What followed next was perhaps the strangest carnage Gotham City has seen in years. The Seamstress danced between the attacks with almost unnatural grace and agility while stabbing the attackers in various places with large needles. None of the hits were life-threatening and most would heal within hours. The wounds were meant to incapacitate with minimal long-term damage.

By the time she reached the far end of the bar, almost every man was laid out on the ground groaning in pain or scrambling in fear.

“I am not asking. You will be rewarded for your obedience.” She then disappeared into the back alley. One brave/foolish enough who still had some fight left rushed after her, only to find the place completely empty.

On the rooftop, Marinette let out her breath. She didn’t use any miraculous for that one, but she kept Plagg’s ring on. Chat Noir wasn’t seen in some time, so it would’ve been easier to explain that the ring was stolen by a criminal. She would really need to thank her mother for all the training she forced on her ever since the Akumas started to appear, as well as the lessons during her childhood. Those were all only the most basic grunts tonight, but she got their attention. One of them would run to their boss. There, she could actually do what she planned.

--------

Just like she predicted, some of the less injured guys left the bar in hurry and drove their bikes to another part of the district. They disappeared into a three-story building. The windows were boarded, but some light seeped through on the top floor, so that is where she climbed. Indeed, by hanging on the edge of the window sill, she was able to hear the panicked screams inside.

“...and then she just disappeared! It was like that damn Bat, only much more terrifying. She was so small, and yet there was this… this… aura of power.”

Thank you Chloe for being queen B. Marinette stifled a laugh. Mimicking Chloe was the right choice.

“Probably another one of his useless brats.” The boss dismissed them. Marinette decided that it would make the best impression if she contradicted him right now.

She wondered for a moment how to enter the armored building. She could rip the boards away and enter that way, but she was aiming for ethereal, not brute. In the end, she pulled a pair of glasses and put them over her mask.

“Kaalki. Would you please help me break into headquarters of a criminal organization to scare them into serving me?”

“How many sugar cubes is it worth?”

“Ten. No more, no less.” Marinette had a small window of opportunity.

“You’ve got a deal.”

“Kaalki! Full gallop!” The light enveloped Marinette. When it died down, she was still in her outfit, only now the blue accents were brown instead. The gem on her neck held the symbol of a horse miraculous. “I love magical clothes. So easy to maintain the image.” Marinette muttered before a blue portal opened before her and she entered.

Inside, the five men (two who came to report, the boss, and his two guards) watched as the blue portal opened before them. The mist started to pour through it as well as through the boarded window. A figure calmly stepped inside.

“I didn’t expect the Gotham criminal organizations to be so… cliche.” She commented. Two needles sailed through the air and pinned the guards to the wall. Her horseshoe weapon waited patiently on her back should she need to use it.

“Who… who’re you?”

“Me? Oh. I’m The Seamstress. I had business in Gotham, but a fool dared to double-cross me. I need to find him.”

“Why… W-why shou-should w-we help… help you?” One of the guys from the bar asked.

“Oh. I’m not asking. I’m telling you that you’ll help me.” She informed. “I’m about to make you an offer you shouldn’t refuse.”

The boss was now shaking. Damn city with its damn overpowered supervillains. They think they can simply run things as they want. First Red Hood took out most of the top brass of the underworld and then this? Working on his father’s farm was sounding more and more appealing. Then there was the shouldn’t. The reference to the classic movie was not lost, but she said shouldn’t. Not can’t. Once more he remembered how Red Hood took over. Submit, or die. This was the same. She clearly wouldn’t hesitate. He liked to think he could see those things.

“I’m waiting.” The lady growled. “I’m not used to waiting.” Channeling Chloe is actually fun here.

“Fine. You can have my seat. I’m going back to dad’s farm. Just let me go and you can have them.” The boss stood from his seat and motioned for her.

Marinette.exe is not responding. Do you want to execute the process? Not yet.

She managed to keep enough cool to smile and take the seat, although she didn’t even register what was that.

She would panic later. For now, tracking Adrien. “I need to find where Floyd Lawton, also called Deadshot, is hiding with my… asset.”

“It… I will see to it, Boss… lady.” One of the guys from the bar nodded very fast before rushing out of the room.

“I… will bring you the list of current assets.” One of the guards informed and walked somewhere. They were used to aggressive takeovers. This was their third. Boss change, guards remain. This was honestly the first time the previous boss managed to escape with his life.

Meanwhile, Marinette finally realized what just happened. She really wanted to hit her head on the desk, but she was too afraid to show any signs of weakness. Why did she end up in this mess again?

----------

Sabine Cheng was waiting for her plane back when an airport guard approached her.

“Lady Cheng?” Sabine’s blood froze for a moment, but she refused to show any outward reaction at her past codename. “There is a man who wishes to discuss some… past debts.”

Damn it. And here she thought that bald bastard would forget about her. He had several more suitable people. He knew the risks of angering her.

Then again, she knew not to anger him either.

“Lead the way.” Her face was stone cold as she stood up.

Inside a comfortable private lodge sat a blad man in a suit more expensive than the yearly revenue of her bakery.

“Ah… Lady Cheng. I’m so happy you could’ve joined us.”

Sabine looked around and noticed that there was another man there, standing slightly in the shadows. A man she came to despise just as much as Luthor. Standing there was Gabriel Agreste.

“I can’t return the pleasure, Luthor.” She snarled, not letting her gaze drop from Agreste.

“Figured you’d say that.” The billionaire laughed. “But it doesn’t change that you came.”

“Be quick. I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“About that.” Lex smiled. “I’m afraid you won’t be on that plane. I need you to do something for me.”

“Sadly, my calendar is full for the foreseeable future.” She retorted coldly.

“Then you will clean it. Unless that is, you want me to tell my good friend the president about your little assignment for me twenty years ago. If I recall, your pardon didn’t cover that particular crime.” The man chuckled.

The only upside of this whole situation to Sabine was that Agreste finally realized exactly who she was. Or at least how dangerous she was. The deal she made ensured that Lady Cheng disappeared from everywhere but some people’s memory. To her dismay, Lex didn’t forget. And he still had that damning evidence.

She also knew exactly what was the job.

“I don’t do jobs involving kids, Luthor.” She seethed through gritted teeth. It wouldn’t matter, but she hoped it would at least give him a pause.

“Adrien Agreste was about to be married. I think that can calm your conscience. He was all but adult.” That despicable man dismissed her concern, as she predicted.

“I’m a little rusty. Don’t you have someone younger? Someone who would actually want to do this?” Sabine deadpanned. She kept true to the deal she made for her and her husband’s pardon and didn’t do any… extracurricular work.

“Alas, the fact you’re unwilling is why I need you. You see, the client, whoever they are, picked Agreste Jr. as a target in a… battle royale of sorts. It quickly stopped being about the ludicrous money reward. It’s now about proving who’s the best. And they won’t stop until they deliver him to that mysterious Seamstress.”

“So what do you want? I’m sure you could’ve bought some of them to drop the glory part.” She really didn’t want to do this.

“I offered to pay five times the price, but most of the competent ones want a shot at whatever that job is. A mysterious benefactor with no history, nonexistent in any database in the world, paying a small fortune for a simple job and offering further work? Doesn’t it sound familiar?” Lex reclined in his chair and smiled.

“One job only. I want everything you have on me. And ten times the bounty.” She noted his discomfort. “Don’t give me that look, Luthor. You can afford it. My daughter’s about to start a university.” Sabine turned to Gabriel. “I must thank you for the idea. Homeschooling really helps when one is gifted.”

“I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” Lex grumbled. If he didn’t know the quality of her works, he would’ve laughed at the price. Except he foolishly revealed that he was desperate.

“Oh, I’m sure we can.” Sabine smiled. She was like a cat that just caught a mouse.

#maribat #miraculous #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb x dc #dc #DC comics #dcu #batman #Hit on the groom

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anaiswriterr · 4 years

Text

Evil Lives Here

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: This story contains the following subjects that may not be suitable for younger audiences or those who don’t like scary things: murder, blood, gore, language, and emotional feelings. Please be aware of you are easily triggered from these kinds of things and enjoy.

Synopsis: You press your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.” He couldn’t of done this, there is not possible explanation.. he’s innocent. When the love of your life, the father of your two year old daughter, your best friend ends up being a mass serial killer you suddenly realize the man you solemnly swore to love till death was living a double life.

- evil lives here - screamtober series part two -

•

“Do you, Y/N L/N, take Eijirou Kirishima, to be your solemnly wedded husband; through sickness and in health, for poorer or richer till death do you two part?”

The memory swirls in your head, hand in hand with your longtime boyfriend, now husband. Freshly graduated from high school, with barley any money you wore a cheap dress from the nearby thrift store, it was short, tailored just above your knees. The nervous sweat softened your hands against his rough ones.

“Yes.” You said in a soft whisper.

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel, you wipe a tear away from your soft skin. Lightly tapping away the stray tears with a tissue, throwing the crumpled piece away at the dash. “Who are you here to visit?” The operator in the Prison Reform entrance asked tiredly, wiping the sleep off his eyes and taking a sip of his cup of coffee. But you didn’t blame him, neither of you wanted to be there especially this early in the morning.

“Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, I-I’m his wife.” You duck your head down in shame, after refusing to visit after months and months of healing. You needed to know, at least for yourself. He gives you a quick stare, later pressing a button to open the gateway. You step on the gas and proceed to enter the parking lot.

Your hand bare without the wedding ring you wore for years on end, a marriage he ruined. A family he tore apart with reckless actions and lies, a two faced snake this entire time. Living with a monster, loving a monster. Making love to a seemingly loving, caring man.

You lay your head against the wheel, turning off the ignition.

“Say cheese, Ruby!” You cheer, counting down the seconds for the cameras timer to go off. “Happy birthday, munchkin!” Kirishima exclaims, pressing a small kiss to her forehead. The flashing light just capturing the happiness in that moment with a single polaroid that joined the cases of other polaroid's that you swore you’d organize into a scrapbook one day. Your daughter clapped her hands in excitement, your lips form a small ‘O’ as you and Eijirou help her blow out the candles, an assortment of cheers and whoops come from the audience of her family. Katsuki Bakugou, her godfather and uncle, is invited to take a separate photo with her in his lap. A small smile creeps onto his lips, allowing the soft spot he carried for his niece to envelop him as he held onto her tiny frame. Laughing at her giggles.

The golden days of your youth often involved your days with Eijirou, someone you met in your years of primary school. Though you were bullied by some of the other kids, Eijirou found you in particular interesting and fun. Befriending you in nearly a day, which meant you were befriended by Mina, Sero, Kaminari, and oddly enough Bakugou. Eijirou, was different. The one to walk you home to make sure you made it back safe, to make sure you had food, to give homeless people the extra pocket change he had or buy them a meal, he wasn’t the smartest but the most caring. Never a killer, a serial killer at that.

Psychology states that when a person murders it’s a chemical imbalance in their head, the need for more. The need to keep hunting the prey that walked around at night, alone, wishing to go home to their families. They all say he said the same thing, the survivors, those who instead of accepting the fate of death instead chose to fight for their lives and manage to get away. He said the same thing.

“Suspect number one, may you please come forward and repeat the lines that were just previously mentioned.” An officer orders, standing protectively beside a shaking young girl, probably in her late teens. Her hands cold and clammy, pressed against one another.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

She’s nods her head no, and the officer asks the next person to move forward. The voices don’t match a single one until, Eijirou Kirishima steps up. How did he get in that suspect line, he didn’t know. I mean sure, his friends teased that he looked awfully alike to the description - but those were just jokes - nobody really took it seriously.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in the car with strangers?”

A panic arose in the girl, nearly jumping off her feet she points. “That man, his voice, it’s him!” She accuses. Not even a minute later Eijirou is placed in handcuffs and escorted towards a holding cell awaiting trial.

You should’ve just taken the first sign and packed your bags, but they say love can blindside you from the truth. And the truth was Eijirou Kirishima was the serial killer that roamed the dark alleys of Japan, living a two faced life. One where he shared with his wife and a beautiful daughter, and the other, preying on the weak. You huff, rubbing your tired, aching eyes. Eyeing the folder a detective handed to you in hopes you’d get something - anything - out of the liar you called husband. The bland folder sitting on top your passenger seat, mocking you with the content inside. The sudden urge to throw up washes over you, you’ve seen those pictures a million times, it’s practically burned into your memory. But this one, the only picture that sat inside the skinny - nearly empty - folder would haunt nearly anyone. You take one last deep breath, and step outside.

The hot, humid, October weather brushed over your skin as you lean forward to retrieve your purse, keys, and the folder. “Make this quick, Y/N.” You mutter, shutting and locking the car door behind you. If there was one thing that Kirishima taught you, it was that you should always lock your doors, and move quickly. You always thought that he meant it to be something sweet, that he cared about your safety. Instead, it was just something he knew most working and busy woman never really took into consideration. Each step feels like your walking on cracking thin ice, liar.

The fuming burning hot anger.

Wake up! This has to be some sort of dream, some nightmare, the lies. The piling lies and deception, an affair you believed. For months you believed he was having an affair, but instead, you learn the awful truth. An affair you could handle, something fixable. But murder, his daughter is known as the child of a killer. You wish you could hit him, kick him, anything. It dwells on you that maybe you he was always like this.

And yet you were the exception - along with many other of his friends - you stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Clutching onto the folder, you steady your breathing.

***

bzzzzzz

“Visitor for Prisoner Eijirou Kirishima, serial code 0926.” They call him down, chewing on the inside of your cheek you wait patiently behind a call booth. Tear stricken stained face and raging eyes. Your foot taps against the metal tile beneath you, until your breath is caught.

In a bright orange jumpsuit, his hands are handcuffed together and his ankles are chained to him. You duck your head down into you sleeve in shame, in disgust, but him, he had on a huge grin as he laughed off a joke the guard seemed to tell. He holds out his wrists in front of him before being seated and was uncuffed from the tight metal restrains. You watch him slowly reach out for the phone on his end, the grin he wore still as intoxicating as when he was just a teenager.

Psychopaths don’t have much emotion.

Except for the inappropriate emotions at inappropriate times they invoke out into the world.

You don’t immediately reach out for the phone, your mind is wondering off to when the loud banging of the front door woke up your daughter from her sleep after being sick for a week - she hadn’t gotten much sleep and neither did you for the fact of the matter - the loud screams from her room as police officers nearly broke down your door. Red and blue flashing lights dance across the walls of the living room as they peered through the cracks of the window blinds.

You are brought back to the sounds of three taps against the glass. You reach towards the phone hesitantly, the cord following behind as you pressed it to your ear.

“Please! My husbands innocent! He’d never hurt another person!” You cried as he was pushed into a patrol car, your daughter screaming for her father. “Ma’am, this man isn’t who he says he is.”

“Long time no see.. where your ring?” His voices makes you seize in the cool metal chair, his cool and calm demeanor taunts you. “I’m not here to make conversation, Kirishima.” You hiss. He ignores your warning glares and smirks, “It’s been a couple months, and I haven’t seen my daughter Y/N. I just want to see my family, I want to see you-”

“Cut the bullshit, as long as I’m alive you’ll never see Ruby again!”

You huff pushing passed the tears that pooled at the corners of your eyes, he stares into your glossy E/C ones. “Where’s Ruby?”

“Bakugou’s babysitting her.”

“Somebody else is babysitting my kid, what let me guess you guys are hanging out with each other more? I knew you’d eventually sleep with him.”

“Shut the fuck up! I haven’t done anything with him, he’s just being a a father figure Ruby needs not some psychopathic liar.”

He chuckles, “I told you, I didn’t do it.” You slam your hand o the glass in frustration, pressing your hand hard against the cold glass shield that divides the two of you. Burning hot tears swell up in your eyes, you take out the printed imagine in the folder and press a picture of a girl, a young girl who was brutally murdered and found in the woods. Clutching onto the jail phone in your separate hand, desperately attempting to catch your breath. You mutter out the words no wife should ever mutter, “Eijirou Kirishima... did you - do this t-to her?” Your voice wavers, eyes stinging to catch his reaction to the crime scene photo. He’s emotionless, “No.”

“Hey! Do you need a ride?” A man calls from his car, looking at the young girl who’s barley pushing eighteen. She nods, “I’m kinda lost! I just moved here, do you know where I can find the nearest payphone?” A smirk forms on the adults face, he unlocks his passenger side door, he adjusts his baseball cap.

“Hop in.” He pats his passenger seat, the young girl was so desperate to hitch a ride she was willing to jump into any trustworthy looking person she could find; Kirishima was handsome and his face painted trust and caring. But inside those deceiving eyes were a need to kill. They pass by the payphone after a five minuet ride, “Hey, I think you passed the-”

“I know.” He smiles, turning the steering wheel into the direction of the nearby woods.

“What are yo-”

A chuckle escapes him lips, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you to not get in cars with strangers?”

TAGLIST: @pavlovs-titties @explosivefireworks @utopiamiroh @hikaru-mikazuki @strangethingsatthecirclek @myheroesaretired

Next: Aizawa x Reader - Tag You’re It

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duelistkingdom · 3 years

Text

you’d come back to me

chapter twelve: scars of defeat

[first chapter] [previous chapter] [master list] [next chapter] [read on ao3]

Summary: Seto Kaiba has been presumed dead for four years after the events of Dark Side of Dimensions. His return causes both unresolved feelings of grief to be brought to the surface and the past to be dragged right back up. In hopes of helping Seto move on and reintegrate back into society at large, Mokuba asks Yugi to work on Spherium II with Seto. Never one to leave a friend hanging, Yugi agrees. Over the course of the project, Seto and Yugi both come to terms with their mutual grief and grow towards a better understanding of each other.

Rating: T

Ships: Yugi Mutou/Seto Kaiba, Mokuba Kaiba/Rebecca Hopkins, Katusya Jonouchi/Mai Kujaku

Warnings: aged up characters, grief, references to suicide

consider supporting me on kofi / battle city tiers & above get first access to chapters!

Kaiba wasn’t sure how he’d wound up in a position where everyone was trying to decide if he and Yugi were actually dating or not. As far as Kaiba was aware, nothing was official despite the fact it seemed obvious to everyone else. Sure, he set aside Friday nights to take Yugi to various restaurants where Yugi would drive him crazy by ordering a burger. That didn’t mean they were dating. In fact, he just witnessed Yugi order a burger yet again. “This is one of the most expensive restaurants in Domino,” Kaiba hissed at Yugi, almost annoyed that Yugi looked amazing in the required suit jacket and tie. “You can’t just order a burger.”

Yugi, for his part, was relaxing in the booth with a smug grin. “I can and I just did,” Yugi said, nudging his foot right up Kaiba’s calf. “It wouldn’t kill you to have a little fun, Seto.”

“I have plenty of fun,” Kaiba said, shifting uncomfortably as Yugi had begun to push open Kaiba’s legs. Must Yugi be like this? In fact, there was no way Yugi was unaware of the effect he was having. Kaiba shoved Yugi’s legs away, glaring at him. “I just know how to behave in this kind of restaurant.”

“Ah, there’s a way to behave,” Yugi asked, sitting upright and leaning forward with a small smirk on his face. “Do tell me how I’m supposed to behave. You just know I love your douchey monologues.” When Kaiba did not immediately respond, Yugi gave a quiet laugh. “See, I think you’d have a little more fun with me telling you how to behave.”

Kaiba felt the flush bloom across his face. “We’re in public,” Kaiba said automatically, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard what Yugi had said. He relaxed slightly when he noted that the few patrons near them seemed more interested in their own meals over what was going on with Yugi and Kaiba. “Can’t you behave for a single dinner? I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Fine, I’ll behave,” Yugi said, leaning back just as the waitress came back with their drinks. Kaiba instantly downed half his wine and Yugi laughed at him once again. “Are you serious? I didn’t even say anything that bad.”

“I swear, you’re trying to kill me,” Kaiba said, pinching the bridge of his nose as Yugi laughed before taking a sip of his own wine. “Ordering burgers at a restaurant that requires a reservation and has a dress code and then behaving like this. Can’t you…”

“Can I do what?” Yugi asked, a dangerous smile appearing across his face. “Cause if you’re asking me if I’ll fuck you in the bathroom, the answer is yes.” Kaiba spluttered instantly and Yugi seemed delighted by this reaction. “C’mon, I wasn’t being serious,” Yugi teased. “It’s just fun to see you lose your mind.”

Kaiba glared at Yugi. “I’m glad my embarrassment is amusing for you,” Kaiba said, crossing his arms over his chest as Yugi kept laughing. He was starting to regret every life choice he’d ever made that led to him sitting here in a booth with Yugi making fun of him for his obvious attraction to Yugi. Kaiba also hated that there was no way for him to really hide said attraction. The only good thing is that Yugi didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, Kaiba was starting to think that maybe Yugi… actually was into him too? That seemed a little ridiculous to believe. “Are you done making fun of me?”

“Maybe,” Yugi said. “Or maybe I wanna see that pretty blush on your face some more. Who’s to say?”

Kaiba looked away, well aware that he was definitely blushing. He was almost annoyed that Yugi could easily pinpoint when he’d started to blush. “I think you’ve had more than enough fun for the night,” Kaiba said testily. “Can we please focus on something else?”

“If that’s what you’d like,” Yugi said with a shrug. “We have the entire night.”

Yugi had a point about having the entire night. Every single minute had been electric, enough for Seto to actually, for once, let go. The feeling carried through into the morning and Seto had never felt anything like it. The sun came pouring in and Seto’s entire world recentered into focus. He woke Yugi up early and found that the energy from last night carried into the morning. Yugi had been more than accommodating with a breakfast that he found he might never get tired of. Everything came back to reality, however, when he remembered that there was a world outside of Yugi’s bedroom. The things that he was supposed to do today came sharply back into view. “Er,” Kaiba remarked, demure before remembering that his clothes were no longer wearable and now in shreds on the floor of Yugi’s living room. “I… I don’t have any clothes. I need to call Mokuba and ask him to bring some.”

“Well, while you do that, I’m gonna go shower,” Yugi remarked, getting up out of the bed and stretching. “Don’t follow me into the bathroom. I’m not gonna fuck you in the shower.”

He was about to claim that he wouldn’t have asked Yugi to fuck him in the shower when he realized that he wouldn’t exactly be telling the truth. Still, now was not the time to argue with Yugi about where he’d let Yugi have sex with him. Instead, he fished his phone out of his torn up pant’s pockets from last night and wincing as he realized that he was a bit sore. That was every bit his fault - he was the one who had demanded that Yugi didn’t stop. He dialed Mokuba’s number and was shocked when a shrill, high pitched voice that was definitely not Mokuba’s answered the phone. “You absolute motherfucker,” Rebecca said, sounding almost like Yugi did when Kaiba woke up. “It is seven thirty am. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Was it seven thirty am? Kaiba rubbed his jaw, noting that it felt sore too. He licked his lips, almost embarrassed when the taste of Yugi was still lingering on his lips. “Er, you’re not the first person to complain about how early I get up,” Kaiba remarked as casually as he could. “Uh, so I left some clothes at Mokuba and yours’ apartment, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding suspicious. “Couldn’t this have waited?”

Kaiba flushed as he realized that yes, this probably could have waited. Still, Kaiba felt like it was important that he at least get some clothes. “Uh, well,” Kaiba said awkwardly, trying to figure out how to best address this to Rebecca. “Is Mokuba there? Could I talk to him?”

“Oh hell no,” Rebecca said sharply and Kaiba winced at her high pitched tone. “You are not waking Mokuba up this early on a Saturday. Either tell me what’s going on or I’m going to hang up.”

“I’m… at Yugi’s,” Kaiba said, trying to figure out the best place to start. “And I, uh. Need a change of clothes.” There was a pause on the other end. A long pause that had made Kaiba feel uncomfortable. “Rebecca? Are you still there?”

He was taken aback when Rebecca gave a shrill laugh that caused him to hold the phone away from his ear. “Oh, that is rich,” Rebecca said, shriller than usual. “Yeah, I’ll bring you some clothes. God, Mokuba’s gonna owe me.”

“Wait, why?”

“Cause we got a bet going on when you and Yugi were gonna make things official,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Congrats on getting a boyfriend, dude.”

“What,” Kaiba said, panicked. “Yugi and I aren’t dating! At least… not officially, anyway.” He paused, horror settling in at the fact that Rebecca now knew that he was at Yugi’s place without clothes. It wouldn’t be exactly a leap to figure out what he’d done with Yugi last night. “Can you keep this to yourself?”

“Sure you’re not dating.” He could almost hear Rebecca’s eye roll in the statement, especially when she dragged out ‘sure’. “But fine. I won’t tell anyone. In that case, you owe me big.”

She hung up rather quickly before Seto could actually ask what owing her would entail. He was starting to think that maybe he should’ve just waited until later in hopes of getting Mokuba on the phone instead. Now he was left alone with his thoughts. He heard the shower turn off and Yugi exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Kaiba flushed bright red as his eyes traced out Yugi’s form. Speaking of big, Kaiba thought idly. “Can I use the shower?”

Yugi looked at him in a strange way that Kaiba couldn’t exactly identify. “Yeah,” Yugi said as if Kaiba had asked if Blue Eyes White Dragon had 3000 attack. “You don’t have to ask to use the shower.”

“Thanks,” Kaiba said quietly before quickly heading into the bathroom and turning on the shower. He noted that he should’ve asked Rebecca to bring him some of his own soap. Then again, there was something alluring about the idea of having Yugi’s scent specifically on him. It was something of Yugi’s that would linger on him even after the rest of their escapades from last night wound up washed away down the shower drain.

The shower had warmed up and Kaiba stepped inside, noting the bruises on his skin where Yugi had touched him. He reached out to examine the bottle that claimed it would leave a light orange scent on the skin. Kaiba didn’t really think of Yugi as smelling like oranges, though. It was hard to really pin down what Yugi smelled like to him, actually. He just knew that it was an addictive smell. He helped himself to some of Yugi’s body soap, taking a soft whiff of the soap. It was only half Yugi, he noted. It was missing something that he couldn’t exactly pin down. He was trying to figure out from which of the catalogued scents he had in the database he’d use to perfectly recreate Yugi.

He stared up at the showerhead, wondering how long Yugi had lived here. His grandfather had claimed that Yugi had moved out two years ago on his birthday but that didn’t necessarily mean that Yugi had settled in this apartment right away. It could’ve been a starter apartment he’d gotten two years ago. How long was the lease on this apartment? The questions began to swirl in his head and a twinge of guilt entered his head. He would have known if he hadn’t left the way he had. And then Kaiba’s hands were pressed against the wall, trying to keep himself steady as the overwhelming grief and regret overcame him like a tidal wave, crashing onto his head and threatening to tug him under.

It cascaded and he could barely keep himself standing. Suddenly the door swung open. “Kaiba,” Yugi asked, sounding alarmed. “I heard something fall. Are you okay?”

“I”m fine,” Kaiba hissed, well aware that wasn’t true. However, he didn’t want Yugi on his case about how he was feeling. He looked over his shoulder to note that Yugi must’ve gotten dressed while he’d been overthinking. “Your shower’s too small.”

“Yeah, I know, my apartment’s too small for you and your ego,” Yugi said with a wry smile and Kaiba did not bother to correct him on this assumption. It was a fair assumption at this point. The wry smile disappeared quickly as he took a step forward, uncertain in the action. “Are you sure you’re okay? Physically, I mean.”

What was it with Yugi and trying to force things on him? Kaiba assessed himself regardless and decided everything seemed in working order. “I’m fine, Yugi,” Kaiba said, more venom laced in his tone this time. Rather than back off, Yugi hovered. “Are you going to leave me alone to finish my shower or are you going to just stand there and stare at me?”

“Er,” Yugi said awkwardly, his eyes glancing down towards something on the floor. “Did that shampoo bottle hit your head?”

Kaiba glanced down and noted that there was far more than a bottle of shampoo on the floor. He wondered why Yugi would neglect to mention the other items. “Not all of us are short, Yugi,” Kaiba said, glaring at Yugi. He knew that wasn’t exactly fair - it wasn’t like Yugi was 5 foot even anymore. And yet it worked - Yugi had a flash of annoyance across his face. “I’m fine. You can go now.”

“I’m not going to leave you alone when you’re clearly in crisis, Kaiba,” Yugi said, resting against the sink and looking down at the ground. He shifted uncomfortably before sighing. “Mokuba would be annoyed if I left you alone while you’re freaking out.”

“I’m fine,” Kaiba hissed again, glaring at Yugi. Must he be this stubborn? Granted, it seemed like it was partly genuine care about him as a person. Kaiba didn’t understand how Yugi could sustain caring about anyone for this long. He sighed, turning away from Yugi. “I would like to finish my shower without you here watching me.”

“Fine,” Yugi conceded and Kaiba was almost surprised that it worked. He’d expected Yugi to force his company onto him. “But you’re going to have to talk to me once you’re out of the shower.”

Kaiba groaned as Yugi left, almost angry that no one seemed to want to let him brood in peace. Hadn’t he gone through enough? Hadn’t he opened up enough? It seemed like it was never enough for anyone. No matter what, he was constantly expected to open up more and more and it was exhausting. It was exhausting to try to explain how he was feeling to everyone. Seto was just so tired. He shut the shower off, stepping out of it and grabbing a towel. He wondered if Rebecca ever brought that change of clothes or if he’d be stuck walking around in a towel. No, he would’ve heard Rebecca’s shrill voice if she’d shown up.

He stepped out into Yugi’s bedroom, stunned when he saw the change of clothes sitting right on Yugi’s bed and Yugi nowhere to be seen. How had he missed Rebecca showing up?

Meanwhile, Yugi was trying to process his own emotions. He’d been so certain that he’d spend the rest of his life pining over Atem and never able to move on. However, Seto had managed to worm his way back into Yugi’s heart. It wasn’t the first time Yugi had interest in Seto. Yugi had more or less dismissed the idea as unlikely to happen and Atem had been there when he was certain Seto had basically rejected him as an option. Did it feel strange to wonder where they stood now? Yes, actually.

Yugi didn’t even know where to begin to ask for romantic advice, really. How did someone explain the history of Seto and his relationship? Yugi was certain most people would mark him down as crazy for even wanting to try to build a romantic relationship with Seto when everything was considered. Jonouchi never wasted any time reminding Yugi that Seto had once tried to kill them. Yugi was fairly certain that Jonouchi would never get over that old grudge and he couldn’t fault him for it. It was, indeed, a large ask to consider Seto as part of their group.

Despite Jonouchi’s misgivings about Seto, he seemed more than okay with being friends with Mokuba and often ignored Yugi pointing out that Mokuba had also tried to kill them. Jonouchi always waved it with a “kids will be kids” and like it was no big deal. Yugi had no idea what the difference was in Jonouchi’s mind. Anzu often claimed that Jonouchi might not even know why he holds the old grudge with Seto but not with Mokuba.

Yugi looked over his shoulder to note that Seto must be done with his shower. “I see you saw the clothes Rebecca brought over for you,” Yugi noted as he set down a cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs on the table. If he knew Seto, he’d bet Seto would try to worm his way out of having breakfast. “I made breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Expected but still frustrating. “Sit,” Yugi said, a little force in the statement. For some reason, that actually worked and Seto slid down into the chair with his cheeks turning bright red. “Good,” Yugi said as he sat across the table from Seto. “Now are you gonna tell me what happened to knock everything over in the shower?” Seto glared at Yugi, pointedly looking away as he crossed his arms across his chest. Once again, Seto had to be difficult. “Fine. You don’t have to tell me.”

Seto looked surprised. “Wouldn’t think you’d be the type to concede defeat, Yugi.”

“A conversation is not a battle, Seto,” Yugi said with a shrug as he reached forward to grab his coffee. “You can’t win a conversation.”

“Can’t you?”

“Not everything has losers and victors. Sometimes things simply are,” Yugi said as he took a long sip of his coffee. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to have this discussion. While Atem eventually came to accept this, it seemed Seto never did. Yugi wondered if he should have been trying harder with Seto long ago. Was it his fault that Seto felt abandoned all those years ago? “You and I having a conversation doesn’t have to be a battle of wits. We can simply… exist.”

This seemed like news to Seto. He glanced down again, staring at something. Yugi figured that he had to be mulling this over; there was no other explanation. Finally, Seto’s icy stare met Yugi’s and for once, Yugi could not read Seto properly. He suspected that it was possible even Seto didn’t know how he felt. “Why do you care,” Seto asked, a furrowed brow as if trying to figure out what Yugi’s motivations possibly could be. Yugi was confused by the question, however. Why wouldn’t he care? “You have every reason to write me off and yet you keep pressing on. Why do you keep trying to be friends with me?”

“I’m not trying to be friends with you right now, Seto,” Yugi said, figuring the frank answer was the best option. He knew that it was a lot to lay his cards down right now but he also knew that he would regret it if he kept it to himself. “I’m trying to date you.”

Seto’s eyes widened before he stood up suddenly. “Good talking,” he said, immediately storming towards the door. Yugi’s hand grabbed at Seto’s wrist before he could even think about the action. “Yugi…”

“I just wanted you to know exactly what my intentions are, Kaiba,” Yugi said, reverting back to using his last name out of hopes it’d help Seto feel more at ease. He knew that Seto didn’t really like overfamiliarity. “I know you probably need time to think more about what that would mean. But… Don’t run from this, okay?”

He released Seto’s wrist and it took Seto a moment before he left. For a minute, Yugi wondered if he should go after him. Instead, he looked over at the breakfast he’d made for Seto and sighed. Seto hadn’t touched it at all.

“You mean you and Yugi aren’t dating?”

Mokuba sounded surprised by this revelation, as if Kaiba dating Yugi was the most obvious thing in the world. Kaiba felt his cheeks heat up and was starting to get frustrated by how easily he blushed as of late. “No,” Kaiba said and noted the judgemental look on Rebecca’s face. “What does it matter, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Rebecca said sharply, narrowing her eyes at Kaiba. Kaiba shrunk back away from her glare. “Unless, of course, you care that you’re the first person Yugi’s had feelings for in five years. And you’re ruining it.”

At this point, Kaiba was frustrated that everyone else but him seemed to have an opinion on his own romantic life. Kaiba still didn’t know how to answer Yugi. Had it been a question? Surely it had been a question. Now he was doubting his own memories. “Is everyone else more aware of my own romantic life than me,” Kaiba asked.

It was more of a rhetorical question and yet Rebecca still replied, “Yes,” sounding almost exasperated. “Look, everyone knows that you and Yugi are totally meant to be. When are you going to accept that?”

“Rebecca,” Mokuba said, gently placing his hand over Rebecca’s. It struck Kaiba how simple the motion was. It was like it was instinct for Mokuba to simply reach out and grab Rebecca’s hand. Suddenly he was thinking about how simple the movement was whenever Yugi did the same thing to him. “It’s Seto’s love life. He has a choice in it, you know.”

Did he? What exactly would Seto’s choice be here? Yes, he did enjoy being around Yugi and spending the night at Yugi’s apartment was thrilling. However, did that mean that he wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with Yugi? Did he know what that would even mean? Kaiba had never really had a romantic relationship before. Could he really go for one now? Surely it was too late now. If he could swallow his own pride, maybe he’d ask Mokuba how he knew he wanted to go for a romantic relationship with Rebecca. What was the difference between friendship and romance, anyway?

If Seto only could find the words, he might be able to ask. Instead, he allowed the conversation to drift to Rebecca’s plans for Mokuba’s birthday this year while Mokuba insisted he didn’t need a party. Mokuba and Rebecca seemed so at ease. Seto could never be at ease with anyone, actually. He’d always felt on edge. In fact, most days, he felt like he didn’t understand how people were supposed to interact with each other. It felt like everyone else had learned this other language that Seto never actually was able to understand and was now too embarrassed to ask how.

Everyone else seemed to know where the line was. Everyone else seemed to know how they really felt about other people. Prior to Yugi admitting that he wanted to date Kaiba, Kaiba was under the assumption that this was all supposed to be platonic. He’d resigned to it. After all, Yugi had always been trying to push friendship. It seemed like Yugi thought that friendship could solve just about anything. It was the question that pulsed in his mind and occupied him, holding his attention. He still didn’t have an answer by the time Mokuba’s birthday rolled around and he was nervous about facing Yugi again. He’d been avoiding Yugi ever since that night. He knew that he was being difficult. He didn’t mean to. Still, Yugi was grinning like Kaiba hadn’t been avoiding him. “Hey, Seto,” Yugi said, so warm and inviting. “Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable with our last conversation. I just… Thought it was best if we had our cards on the table, as it were.”

“You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Kaiba said gruffly. It was true. Nothing about what Yugi had said made him feel uncomfortable. The idea of dating Yugi was starting to settle in and it wasn’t unpleasant. It was just that he was certain he’d screw it up. “Just. Surprised.”

Yugi nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Good,” he said and for once, Yugi reminded Kaiba of when he didn’t have all that confidence. For the first time, Yugi looked as awkward as Kaiba felt. Good indeed. “Though… I know this is an awkward time to bring this up, but you can’t just avoid me at work. We’ll fall behind.”

Right, Kaiba thought and felt instantly guilty. He’d been leaving Yugi hanging at work because of his own emotional turmoil. “Sorry,” Kaiba said, looking away from Yugi. “I’ll uh. I’ll respond to your emails, then.”

“And uh,” Yugi said, pink crossing his cheeks and Kaiba wondered what else Yugi might have to say that would make him behave strangely. “I’d really like it if uh. We could go back to having lunch together again. I kinda liked those lunches with you.”

“I liked those lunches too,” Kaiba admitted and his heart skipped a beat again when Yugi beamed at him. Once again, Yugi had managed to worm his way into Kaiba’s life. Was it really a choice at this point? He couldn’t seem to escape Yugi. He looked away, not really sure how it seemed obvious that Yugi was starting to succeed in getting Kaiba to let his walls down. “Good way to discuss the schematics of the Spherium II.”

Yugi’s reaction was all it took for Seto to realize that maybe that was not the right response. The reaction was only on Yugi’s face for a few seconds before Yugi shrugged. “I suppose it is,” he said shortly, looking off to the side. “I should go say hi to Jonouchi. Talk to you later.”

“You’re an idiot,” Rebecca said, mere moments after Yugi had left. Kaiba jumped slightly, surprised by how quickly Rebecca had moved. “You do know he’s totally into you, right? And you’re screwing it up.”

“Where the hell did you come from?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, grabbing Kaiba’s wrist and dragging him away from the party. “That doesn’t matter,” she said rather bluntly, shoving him into a chair. “What matters is why are you blowing it with Yugi?”

Kaiba was rather stunned by the sheer use of force Rebecca had in her. She was like a storm, blowing everyone over and deciding how things would go. “I’m not,” Kaiba said defensively, despite being fully aware that he was probably screwing everything up. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before, okay? How am I supposed to know what to do?”

“Well, first you don’t blow him off when he says that he likes having lunch with you, idiot,” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Second, you ask him out! Say you wanna take him to a fancy dinner and that you’ll pay! God, it’s like you’ve never been on a date before.” An awkward pause hung in the air before Rebecca burst into laughter. “God, you’ve never been on a date before, have you?”

“You don’t have to say it so loud,” Kaiba said, mortified. “Must we have this conversation in the middle of my brother’s birthday party?”

“What better place to have this discussion,” she teased as she sat down next to Kaiba, a bright grin on her face. “God, I knew you were a dork but I never knew you were that big of a dork.”

“I’m not a dork,” Kaiba said defensively, his cheeks heating up from the horrified feeling that Rebecca knew just a little too much about him already. He had a feeling that death would be kinder at this point. Rebecca had a gleam in her eye that suggested that she could read him like a magazine whenever she wanted and Seto felt like a cornered rat. “It’s totally normal to not have dated by twenty.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately, I found my better half when I was fourteen and Yugi dated when he was sixteen and Otogi started dating Honda when they were eighteen and Anzu and Jonouchi both date around,” Rebecca said with a shrug. “So you’re in a group where it’s an anomaly. Sorry.”

It was a bad idea to pry into Yugi’s love life. No one ever found anything they liked by snooping. Kaiba risked finding out something he didn’t like. He already knew the Pharaoh and Yugi had dated, after all. No point in prying further. “So you and Mokuba are serious then,” Kaiba said, attempting to be casual. “Interesting.”

“You don’t date someone for five years and not be serious about it,” Rebecca said as if it was an obvious point. He supposed he couldn’t fault her for that reaction. It would track that things were serious between Rebecca and Mokuba if they’d been together for that long. “It’s just… it is a little strange, I suppose. I never thought of dating anyone else. I met him and I… I knew.”

Seto frowned, trying to figure out how that might work. It was strange to him. He couldn’t imagine just knowing something would work out. “Surely there must have been other factors,” Kaiba said, trying to figure out what Rebecca was getting at. There had to be something he was missing. “You can’t just have known that things would work out between you and Mokuba on a gut feeling.”

“No,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “You can’t plan for everything, Seto. You have to take a leap of faith, sometimes, and hope it works out.” With that, she got up and held her hand out to him. “C’mon. I bet Mokie won’t want to cut the cake until you’re there, so let’s go.”

There had been a shift in how Kaiba interacted with Yugi. Yugi couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was different. And he suspected that something had to do with Rebecca. For whatever reason, Rebecca had managed to start to get through to Kaiba in a way that none of them really could. Yugi wondered if it was because of how blunt Rebecca could be. Seto seemed to react to that better than gentle encouragement. No matter how much Yugi tried, Seto still was tightly closed off to him. At least, in face to face conversations.

Seto had yet to figure out that he’d been talking to Yugi and Yugi felt almost deceptive by not telling Seto the truth. He kept meaning to but then he’d have no other ways of getting insight into what Seto was thinking. And Yugi badly wanted to know everything about Seto that he possibly could. Without the burden of their previous relationship and his public persona, Seto was a lot more vulnerable. The information was easier to ply out of him. So far, Yugi had learned that Seto was still grieving the loss of Atem. Yugi could understand and work with that.

The wound was fresher for Seto. Yugi had four years to move on and for Seto, it was like it was still four years ago. Time had stopped for Seto. Yugi tried to understand how that would feel for someone. It was hard to imagine being frozen in the state he was at 18 even though in the moment, it had felt like it would last forever. Whenever Yugi tried to emphasize with Seto, however, Seto immediately closed off and switched topics. However, this time was alarming. Over the past few texts back and forth, they’d reached a point where Seto had casually admitted that he found little joy in things he used to find joy in. A few texts later, Seto had sent a rather blithe, “Sometimes I wonder if anyone even cares that I’m around at all.”

Yugi stared at his phone, trying to figure out how to proceed forward. A simple text based chat might not fix this. So he grabbed his jacket and called Seto for real, surprised when Seto picked up. “Kaiba,” he breathed, trying to figure out what to say. He could come clean - tell Seto that it was him he was talking to and he was worried about him. Then again… that might make things worse. “I’m coming over.”

There was a pause on the other end. It sounded as if Seto had dropped something and Yugi’s eyebrows stitched together as he got in his car, the phone switching to hands free without any effort on Yugi’s part. “Why?”

Seto’s voice sounded as if he was in the car with him but Yugi could not imagine the face attached to the tone. “I’m worried about you,” he said honestly, figuring that a random check in was as good as any. “I think it might be good for you to have someone else around tonight.”

This time the pause was even longer. Yugi had no idea what Seto might be thinking. He had a feeling that Seto would try to insist that Yugi shouldn’t come over. He was surprised when the silence lasted long enough for him to get a quarter of the way to Seto’s new apartment. He was even more surprised when he realized he intuitively knew the way - like driving back to the Kame Game Shop. Or perhaps like he was driving home. Yugi gripped the wheel tighter, a light flush coming across his face at the thought.

“I’m fine,” Seto said and his voice sounded clipped. Yugi could imagine how Seto would look saying this. He could imagine the attempt to close off every detail of his face, to hide any sense of emotion. Yugi always saw right through that. “I don’t need anyone’s help. You don’t have to come over.”

Yugi sighed, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t need it,” Yugi said. “I’m over half of the way there, anyway.”

Seto paused yet again and Yugi wondered what was causing Seto to hesitate so much. He’d never known Seto to take his time between his actions like this. Finally Seto gave a huff. “Fine,” he said, sounding almost annoyed. “Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” Yugi said defiantly, equally annoyed by Seto’s emotional constipation. Seto almost never said what he was really thinking. It almost seemed like Seto wasn’t even sure of his own emotions. For a minute, Yugi considered that this might be the case. It would explain a lot about Seto’s reactions to all of Yugi’s attempts to reach out and the way Seto seemed to easily shut down. “See you soon.”

Yugi had hung up before Seto could protest Yugi’s unannounced arrival further. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Yugi would forcibly impose his company onto him. Despite wanting to wallow in his misery, Yugi refused to let him. Now Yugi was standing on his doorstep and Seto let him in. Seto felt like there was little choice in the matter, in fact. “You know,” Yugi finally said after a moment of silence. “It’s okay to grieve.”

There was something terrifying about how straight the heart of Seto’s thought process Yugi could be. Yugi disarmed Seto every single step of the way since getting back and Seto was starting to get sick of it. He would not let Yugi simply bulldoze his way through and act as if he knew him. “You don’t know what I’m thinking, Mutou,” Seto spat, the last name coming out in a desperate attempt to shove Yugi away from him. “You can’t just barge into my home and then try to psychoanalyze me. You aren’t my therapist.”

“No, I’m not,” Yugi said and Seto was surprised by how quickly Yugi conceded. It was, however, a trap. “But I am your friend. And no matter how much you try to pretend we aren’t and try to shove me away, I am always going to be your friend. And you have to know that I understand, Seto, believe me. I do know what it was like to grieve. But you can’t just keep hurting everyone around you like this!”

Reflexively, Seto stepped back. The accusation cut deep as he remembered the look in Mokuba’s eyes when Seto had accidentally admitted that he had difficulty feeling like he was part of this world again. Yugi was right - he was hurting everyone around him. The thing is, he didn’t know how to stop. All he knew was this. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone,” Seto said, desperation setting in. He needed Yugi out and yet Yugi was going nowhere. He had no choice but to face Yugi in this battle. “I’m merely trying to get over,” he cut himself off, realizing he was revealing far too much. He always did in front of Yugi. “There’s no point in this.”

“No point,” Yugi said, sounding near angry. Seto shrank back as Yugi stepped forward. “Of course there’s a point in this. Seto, please… let me in.”

It was a dangerous request. Letting Yugi in meant Yugi would get to see the absolute mess that Seto was. Seto was not worth Yugi’s charity. “You just don’t give up, do you?”

“Not when a friend needs me,” Yugi said, his chin jutting out. Once again, it all came back to the fact that Yugi just couldn’t abandon someone he considered a friend. At this point, Seto wasn’t sure how to shake Yugi off anymore. It was exhausting trying. “Seto, why can’t you just admit that you need… friends.”

The word “friends” came out awkward, as if Yugi had intended to say something else. “You already hit on the head,” Seto finally said, glaring at Yugi. “I sought out closure.”

“And for it, you built a holographic AI that looked like my dead boyfriend and then, then you just left! None of us thought you’d come back! I thought maybe you’d come back to me for the first year and with each passing year...” Yugi’s eyes blazed with a violet fire that Seto had previously only considered the Pharaoh capable of. It bore through him, like it sought to destroy the very essence of himself. The only thing that distinguished this look from the Pharaoh is that Yugi had tears in his eyes. If it were not for that, Seto might have thought that Yugi was enraged. Yugi had moved in closer, before he finally spat out, “Did you consider what that would do to me? Did you even care?”

The accusation stung. Then an alarming realization hit: Yugi assumed that Seto didn’t care about him. That he’d never cared about him. It wasn’t just about Mokuba, as he’d previously assumed. “Of course I –”

“Then why, for the love of all that is good, did you do it?”

If Yugi had knocked an arrow and pierced it right through Seto’s heart, it wouldn’t have stung nearly as bad as the question. Yugi had found a way to pierce right through Seto’s armor over and over again. Seto had no answer. “I,” he started, fumbling over his words. “I… I was grieving.”

Yugi’s glower softened only slightly and Seto still feared that he may be lit ablaze where he stood. For a moment, he said nothing before he gave a soft “tch” and shook his head. “You were grieving so you made everyone else grieve for you?”

The accusation struck Seto down immediately. He fell back into the chair, unable to understand Yugi’s question. Of course he didn’t want anyone to grieve for him. When he had left, he had left under the assumption that no one would miss him. It was strange and discomforting to realize that his previous conception of how people viewed him was wrong. “I never intended for anyone to miss me,” Seto said softly, looking away from Yugi’s intense gaze. “I… I simply thought that perhaps since no one would miss me anyway, I would…”

He trailed off when he saw the disturbed look on Yugi’s face. He had said something wrong. For a moment, neither of them said anything before Yugi finally asked, “Seto, how long have you been suicidal?”

“I’m not,” Seto immediately said, the answer ringing true to him. It was true enough, after all. It was never that Seto wanted to die, more that there had been times he survived despite deserving nothing less than death. From the first moment he’d lost to the Pharaoh, he’d been so certain that he’d die. Part of him did die that day. Sure, he knew the optics of how it looked to attempt to go to the afterlife to see Atem for one last confrontation. It didn’t mean he intended on dying, however. “Confronting the Pharaoh wasn’t about death. It was... “ He trailed off. What was it, exactly? Finally, he had a word for what he was seeking. “It was about closure.”

“You didn’t have to risk your life for closure,” Yugi said, his tone difficult to parse. Seto couldn’t tell if it was intended to be sympathetic or if Yugi was mocking him. If it had still been the Yugi of his youth, perhaps he’d know. “People were here for you. I… I understand that it hurt to lose Atem. It was sudden. None of us were ready to say goodbye to him. But… I would’ve helped you.”

It was strange to imagine the idea of asking for help from Yugi before Seto had realized just how powerful Yugi was. The idea of asking anyone for help was incorrigible but asking for help from Yugi specifically had its own set of reasons as to why he would not. Yugi simply was not allowed to see him be weak. “I didn’t need your help,” Seto said, stunned to notice Yugi flinching back from his words. “I could solve it on my own and I did.”

“You scared everyone,” Yugi countered, and again his expression was so very open yet so very difficult for Seto to read. It was like Yugi was begging Seto to fully understand the implication and he simply couldn’t. “You assumed none of us would miss you. You were wrong, Kaiba. Mokuba missed you, Isono missed you, I missed you.”

The inflection hung in the air and Seto couldn’t grasp what about him that Yugi would miss. He tried to understand what Yugi was trying to get at and came up empty. Nothing about him was worth missing. However, he felt saying that out loud would only cause Yugi to become more irritating. Seto corrected himself internally. It was not that Yugi was irritating but rather that Yugi insisted on trying to talk out feelings. He was certain it came from a place of care and support however, it just didn’t work for him. “I didn’t mean to,” Seto said defensively and by the look on Yugi’s face, he knew that was the wrong answer. It was a test and he was failing. “It’s not my fault you placed your care in the wrong place.”

Yugi glowered again and Seto was hit by how often he felt the need to aim a shot right at his feet. “You’re free to think whatever you like of me but as far as I’m concerned, my care is exactly right where it needs to be,” Yugi replied with a clipped tone. Yugi got up and ran his fingers through his hair and Seto absently thought how he’d like to try that. “I’m staying the night. I think Mokuba would be furious if I left you alone like this.”

Alarm bells rang in Seto’s head. Yugi said it so confidently, as if the last time Seto had spent the night with Yugi had not led to the two of them in a fairly compromising position. It wasn’t that Seto was against the idea of something like that happening again. It was just that he thought that this was a rather strange way to go about it. “I don’t need you to stay with me out of pity.”

“I’m not staying with you out of pity. Seto, you’re scaring me,” Yugi half snapped and Seto was amazed that much commanding power could fit inside someone so short. He was more amazed when Yugi admitted that Seto scared him didn’t really do anything the way he once thought it might. He stared Seto down and Seto wondered what Yugi’s goal here might be. There had to be something that wasn’t clicking that Yugi was after. “Look… when… when Atem left… I didn’t want to get out of bed. I scared everyone around me too. I… I don’t know what I wanted then. I just knew that I didn’t like that he was gone. I missed him too. And if it hadn’t been for Honda, Otogi, Jonouchi, Bakura, and Anzu… I don’t know. They made me get out of bed when I didn’t want to and it was good for me. I don’t know… I don’t know how to do the same for you what they did for me. But… Seto, I want to try to help you.”

Yugi didn’t seem to understand that the mere presence of him was soothing in a way that Seto couldn’t begin to explain. Seto tried his best to avoid figuring out what it was about Yugi that made him feel almost safe. He always found himself saying more than he would like around Yugi. “You can’t,” is what Seto said instead. “I’m fundamentally broken.” It was far more honest than he would have liked and he flinched away from it. “Yugi, I’ve had to deal with loss for a long time now. I..” Yugi’s hand covered his and now Yugi’s mouth was mere inches from his. If he leaned forward, he might be able to kiss Yugi. Seto imagined that was the wrong thing to do. “I’ve always had to move forward. It’s not right for me to lose it over the Pharaoh’s death. The future is what I should be concerned about.”

“The past shapes your future,” Yugi said softly, repeating the same rhetoric that the Pharaoh had used. There was, however, a key difference. Yugi said it much more gently, as if it was a tragedy rather than the blessing the Pharaoh had framed it. Seto wasn’t sure which he preferred. “You can’t outrun it. The past has been choking you for a while, Seto.”

No matter how gently Yugi’s hand cupped Seto’s cheek, it felt like Yugi might bruise him. Seto imagined he’d have the shape of Yugi’s hands all over him. It was like he was being marked anew, the previous scars washing away. He’d been convinced the scars that the Pharaoh had marked upon him would be what he’d be defined by. Instead, now, Yugi took hold. The impulse to kiss Yugi was now stronger than ever. Would anyone else ever understand him on this level ever again? Would he want to be understood by anyone else? It was like he’d been picked raw. He could deny the truth of the past, choking him and yet he was exhausted by it. He was exhausted by the pretenses he’d cloaked himself in. It was far easier to give in to what Yugi sought to understand about him.

“I’m tired of it,” Seto said quietly, leaning into Yugi’s touch. It was as gentle as ever. Perhaps this could be the soft place to land that Seto had been seeking for. What had Mokuba said? It’s a leap of faith. “I want to be done with it.”

At that point, Seto realized that the armor he’d tried to cloak himself had collapsed around Yugi. There were no more walls baring Yugi from access and Seto wondered exactly when that had happened. Yugi, as always, was so patient in his endgame. Yugi’s other hand had grabbed Seto’s and it was searing him. He was certain that Yugi’s fingerprints now marked Seto’s hand, making it clear to anyone the truth of what was radiating between them. “You’ve tried to dismantle the past already,” Yugi reminded him gently and Seto wanted to reach out to touch Yugi too. He wondered if he could have a similar effect that Yugi so effortlessly held over him. “You cannot remove the past, Kaiba. You have to accept that it’s part of you.”

Seto frowned. The words were no longer settling in. Instead, he was focused on the shape of Yugi’s lips as they formed words. He started to lean in and Yugi seemed surprised when Kaiba’s lips connected with his. Kaiba was tired of pretending that he didn’t want Yugi to be a bigger part of his life. He started to think more about how Yugi was always there. The words of his therapist came back to him. Taking that leap was scary for everyone.

Yugi’s lips molded to his until Seto found himself attempting to sit in Yugi’s lap. Yugi scoffed at Kaiba hovering slightly over, nervous about putting his full weight onto Yugi and yanked him down. Kaiba made a noise of surprise as he realized Yugi was able to hold his weight. Taking that leap was scary for everyone, he reminded himself. The discussions of faith came back as Yugi’s hands ran through Seto’s hair. Where faith was simply jumping and being so sure someone would catch him. Would Yugi catch him? The future isn’t something one can just shove in a bottle and demand it take shape to one’s requests. It must be played out.

Kaiba’s mind was swimming as Yugi’s hands locked under his thighs, pulling away to mutter, “We should go to bed. We just had a very heavy conversation and neither of us are thinking straight.”

It must be played out. Seto was sick of playing with memories and he was tired of overthinking every single move he made. Seto merely nodded, allowing himself to feel every ache and heartbreak that shattered his heart have glue poured over it. Yugi’s hands were sure and he had no idea how Yugi could stand to hold him like this. He had no idea how Yugi’s legs could carry him to the bed. And when Yugi placed him in bed, climbing in after, Seto allowed himself to curl up to Yugi. For once, he felt safe and understood in a way that he’d never been before.

#fic: you'd come back to me #rivalshipping #myfanfic #chapter 12 is here!#bring your tissues because boy oh boy #emotional catharsis emotional catharsis emotional catharsis!

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

So sorry

Summary- You max out Steve's credit card. Will you be able to make upto him?

Warnings- smut, daddy kink, deep throating, spanking

Pairing- Steve Rogers x brat!reader

Word count- 2k

Masterlist

You took a deep breathe, sipping from your champagne flute, scrunching your nose at the bitter taste of it. Why people liked alcohol you’ll never understand. In your opinion if something isn’t sweet then it doesn’t taste good.

You smiled stealing glances at the huge diamond chandelier above you. You tried your best to conceal your amazement, you didn’t want to seem as if you didn’t belong there. Until now you had only seen other people own designer bags and brands. You were from a simple middle class family and still a student who never really had any money of her own.

You figured you’ll never own a chanel bag or a cartier love bracelet, they were ridiculously overpriced anyway and totally not worth it, but you still felt drawn to them. They were always out of reach. Until Steve that is.

When you started dating him you never expected to have him buy you such amazing presents. He seemed like a simple minimalistic guy. But judging from your big fat tiffanys engagement ring, and many other things he has bought for you, being an avenger apparently paid well.

He gave you his credit card for your expenses and ‘some fun' like three months into your relationship. You never really used it. You didn’t want to take advantage of him, he already did so much for you and took such good care of you. But now that you were practically married, his money was your money. So maybe you can buy that Hermes bag which costs more than your rent? He asked you to ‘don’t go too crazy with it’ Would four thousand dollars really be that crazy?

“Look at the material on this. It’s made of lamb skin” Stacey gushed feeling the baby pink bag on her fingers.

She was the root cause of your crazy shopping spree. She practically forced you to spend so much money, you’re not even sure how much damage you’ve done in total but you know it’s pretty bad. She was a victorias secret model who had legs that went on for days and brown skin as clear as crystal. She was also Tony's new flame, unlike you she didn’t really have to worry about the bill.

“It goes so well with your hair!” she raved clapping her hands and looking at you as if you’re the most adorable thing she’s ever seen.

“I can’t” You whined resisting the urge to pout, that only works on Steve. “I’ve already spent so much. Maybe next month” You tried to reason more with yourself than her.

“Oh girl” She tsked you moving closer to you to whisper “I’m sure you can find some way to make up to Steve. He’s too whipped for you to care anyway”

You grinned at that. He was a lovestruck fool. It was so warming to know that you inspired that kind of passion in him. “how would I take care of him?” You frowned. You don’t really make any money. You will after you get a job but it still wouldn’t be nearly as much as Steve. You looked at her deadpanned face and then it dawned on you “oh” you breathed.

“Yeah” She nodded “now put your money where your mouth is. Men are easy to control, you’ll learn soon enough” She winked as you handed over Steve’s credit card to the cashier. You were happy to have such a beautiful bag, but you couldn’t ignore that nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. Were you nervous or excited? You couldn’t decide.

You hurriedly punched in the code for yours and Steve’s suite in the Avengers tower, your birth year, opening and closing the door with your foot, your hands were too occupied carrying the loads of bags. You planned to hide your clothes and bags but you were too late.

There he was, the love of your life, the apple of your eye, your future husband, sitting on the couch, his left leg crossed over the right one. He looked at you as you gave him a nervous smile, pathetically trying to hide the bags under the dining table.

You slipped over to him kneeling to his side on the couch, it was time to butter him up “I missed you so much Stevie” You squealed hugging his bicep and nuzzling your nose into his cheek. He opened his mouth to say something, but you captured his lips in a bruising kiss. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, massaging his tongue with yours. You moaned into his mouth, knowing how much he liked it when you made those sinful amazing noises. You straddled his lap pressing your titts onto his chest chest as you trailed kisses down his jaw and neck. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, by your waist.

“Wait” He said but didn’t stop you from sucking on his earlobe. He sternly said your name which made you freeze. You could be cute with Steve all you like but when the captain comes out, you know you’re in trouble.

You pulled away looking into his bright blue eyes and fluttering your new eyelash extensions. “Looks like you had fun” He said looking at your bags which were somewhat visible from the couch.

You grabbed his chin to make him look at you, oh how much you wanted to kiss that frown away but you can’t be too obvious. “I did daddy” you rolled your hips against his, pleased with the way his breathe hitched.

He held onto your hips to stop your ministrations “I got a call from the bank. You maxed out my credit card princess”

You whined wanting to stomp your foot but you can’t, not from this angle “But you said I could buy whatever I want”

“I also told you to be responsible with it. Just because we have money doesn’t mean we should be so careless with it” He reasoned.

You had to really fight the urge to roll your eyes. He was probably right but you weren’t going to admit that, not right away anyway. Instead you rolled your hips one more time, ignoring the way he called your name again.

You smirked when you felt his erection poking your thigh. You remembered the first time you felt it, after a heavy make out session, you hadn’t seen it but were so ridiculously afraid to fit him inside you.

You knelt before him as he stared at you, stalking your every move. You spread his knees making room for yourself between them and went to work on unzipping him.

“You can’t just get on your knees whenever you want to get your way” He sighed putting his hand over yours.

“Do you want to see my new bra?” You wondered. You unzipped your dress pushing the straps down to reveal your pale blue satin push up bra with a little bow in the middle, as if you were a present to be unwrapped. You could see him swallow, his fists clenching so hard, his knuckles turned white

You smirked at the small victory taking him out of his briefs and kissing the tip “Hello there little soilder. Did you miss me?” you pressed an open mouth kiss to his tip.

He bucked his hips up hissing at you “You played with him just last night” He said and cringed at his own words. You laughed covering your mouth with your hand. You had successfully infected him with your ridiculousness.

“Ooh” You cooed lapping up his precome before swallowing him whole, fitting whatever you could in your mouth. Over your relationship you had gotten better at taking him in your mouth but you still couldn’t fit all of him. He never really let you spend too much time on your knees anyway.

He bunched your hair up into a ponytail, probably to get a better look at your face. “No” You said pulling him out of your mouth, pushing his hand away from your hair “I just got it blow dried” you complained, his cum and your lipgloss smeared all over your lips and his cock.

“You’re such a brat” He grumbled “off with this” he bent over to unhook your bra slipping it off and exposing your titts to him. You should’ve known, modern lingerie didn’t really interest Steve, he liked seeing you in simple comfortable nightgowns. He sucked one into his mouth as you tried to hold in a moan. You gasped as he bit it, releasing it with a pop as he sat back against the couch, watching you with glossy lust-filled eyes.

You sucked his ball pulling it with your lip as he massaged your titt. You pumped him with your hand as more of his come came out of his tip. You couldn’t resist, you had to get a taste so you placed him back in your mouth.

You could feel how close he was by the way his cock twitched in your mouth. Usually, you’d swallow him whole or make him come on your face or titts. It depends on his or your mood. But today you had a purpose. You pulled him out of your mouth, looking at him with your best puppy dog eyes “My jaw hurts, I need a break” You made of show of massaging your jaw. It did somewhat hurt but not enough to stop.

He made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a cry. You looked at his angry red tip, looking as if it was about to burst. “It must be painful?” You asked stroking his length with your hand. He groaned desperately nodding his head “It is doll. Please”

“Well I can’t keep my daddy waiting” With that he was back in your mouth so deep that your nose almost touched his blonde curls. You swallowed around him as your tongue licked stripes up his slit. “Jesus Christ” He sweared holding onto your neck. Even if he was upset with you he wouldn’t mess with your hair. Not when it looked so pretty.

Abruptly he pushed your mouth off him. You looked at his red flushed face and neck as he rigorously stroked himself, spurts of his come landing on your titts. He groaned and moaned and cursed, holding onto your shoulder.

Finally he sat back against the cushions looking into your eyes as you gathered some of his cummies on your fingers before sucking on them. “So yummy” You moaned.

“What am I gonna do with you” He shook his head.

You smirked feeling as if you had won. You pulled a few tissue papers out of the box from the coffee table cleaning him up and pressing a kiss to his cock before tucking it back in his pants. “Just love me and spoil me. You wanna see what I bought? I could put on a show for your” You perked up at the opportunity of trying on your dresses for him. You knew you couldn’t get past the second dress, with the type of clothing you had bought, you were bound to get your pussy fucked raw at the end of it.

He hummed “Sure – but before that” Before you knew it he hauled you up, manhandling you and placing you over his knees. “you have to be punished” He stroked your ass over your panties warming you up “How much do you think you deserve? How about fifteen for every grand you spent” He delivered a slap over your panties before pulling them down.

It would be a long night and you would love every second of it.

Tags- @patzammit @onetwo3000 @peaceinourtime82 @stargazingfangirl18 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @navybrat817 @what-just-happened-bro @thehumanistsdiary @cheeseburgersstuff

Super cute pink divided by @whimsicalrogers

Please don't steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

Do leave feedback if you have any.

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #captain america x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #captain america #avengers x reader #chris x reader #chris x you #berry writes #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x oc #ransom drysdale x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers

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idiopath-fic-smile · 4 years

Text

hey hi I've been trying to write something, anything, and what came out is like 3k of an extremely stupid supervillain/superhero story that I’d been kicking around in some form like over ten years ago. it doesn’t map onto any kind of an AU so I guess it’s original fiction? enjoy?

Cityton Chronicles, part 1

The problem with carrying out an evil scheme, thought Edmund, was the scheme part.

Anyone could nurse a sinister thought or two; it wasn't that hard to shake one's fist at the sky and murmur, “You'll pay for this. With God as my witness, oh, you will pay” and then maybe cackle a little. That much was child's play. (Literal child's play; he had witnessed more than a few dire pronouncements from his classmates at Hawthorne Grimmsbury's Academy for Ominous Boys, especially when recess was threatened.)

Actually going through with a plan was a whole different story. There were logistics to manage. There were people to manipulate, details to babysit, hypotheticals to anticipate. The nitty-gritty, as it were.

Edmund was not destined for the nitty-gritty.

Although, wasn't that what useless people always said? “I'm more of a big-picture person.” Maybe he was useless. Maybe that was the issue. Maybe Edmund Malarkey, heir to Malarkey Industries, was simply not cut out for masterminding.

Case in point, he had a terrible feeling he was about to make a complete hash of the Ritual.

The parameters were clear enough: full moon—check. Chalk for pentagrams—check. One hundred lit candles—check. (Some were scented; the store hadn't had enough plain tapers in stock, but the text of the Ritual had been written well before the notion of pumpkin spice was a cozy twinkle in some godless marketer's eye, and so Edmund figured this would probably not disqualify him.) Thirteen hooded figures, all in black...

This was where things got dicey.

The first sign of the trouble to come was when Carl showed up in navy fucking blue.

Edmund pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, breath crystalline in the late November air. The invitations had been so specific.

“It looked pretty dark online,” Carl offered as the wind whipped at them atop the roof of the Cityton Natural History Museum.

“Pretty dark? Pretty dark? Did it look like the blackest black?” said Edmund. “Did it look like Anish Kapur's most haunting nightmare? Did it look like a raven's wing in shadow at the stroke of midnight, Carl?” Carl stuck out his chin. “It's almost black.”

“Yes, and bananas and humans share about sixty percent of their DNA, we're almost cousins,” Edmund told him, dangerously quiet, “but fortunately for you, I'm not going to peel you and eat you in a fruit salad, you buffoonish optimist.”

Edmund should never have relied upon his father's former henchpeople. They were loyal to his father; they looked upon him with bemused tolerance. He should've just gone ahead and recruited all of the necessary twelve people from Craigslist. He'd held off due to a suspicion that anyone he found on the internet would assume the Ritual was fundamentally a weird sex thing, but at least a bunch of kinksters would have probably taken the rules seriously.

He sighed. “Carl, there's a bodega down on the corner. Go buy two black trash bags and make yourself a garbage-robe.” Carl frowned. “Is there time?”

Edmund checked his phone. Eleven fifty-three. “Hurry. And save the receipt.”

Another gust of wind kicked up. Edmund shivered. He'd been smart enough to request a fabric swatch ahead of time from the Etsy store where he'd custom-ordered his own set of hooded black robes. He hadn't stopped to consider how warm—or not—a single layer of said fabric would feel well into autumn, completely unshielded by the elements. Theoretically, he could've crammed a coat under the robes, like a child wearing a Halloween costume in an unseasonably cold October, but no, he hadn't wanted to look bulky.

He checked the candles again, for want of anything better to do.

“Boss,” said a hesitant voice behind him.

“What is it, Stephanie,” said Edmund.

Stephanie had clearly repurposed her teenager's old Hermione costume as her robes, but she had bothered to remove the Hogwarts branding, which was something, at least. Beyond the fact that Edmund didn't feel like giving a repellent transphobe any extra attention, there might have been copyright issues.

“Is that thing about bananas really true?”

“Yeah,” said Edmund. He had read it many years ago, in a book titled 2002 MORE WACKY FACTS TO BLOW YOUR MIND AND AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS, which didn't seem especially pertinent. He did a quick headcount. Even without Carl, they only numbered eleven. “Where's Donna?”

“You should call her,” said Stephanie. “Donna never answers her texts.”

Edmund had been halfway through tapping out a text. Ugh, Boomers. Calling was for emergencies only; everyone knew that. Unfortunately, this qualified. He gritted his teeth and dialed.

Donna answered on the fourth ring. “What?” She sounded groggy.

“Did you,” said Edmund, still through gritted teeth, “forget what night the Ritual was?”

“Oh shit,” mumbled Donna. “Are you sure? I thought it was at noon tomorrow. Carl told me twelve o'clock.”

“At night,” said Edmund. “Twelve o'clock at night, this is a dark incantation to a primordial god, it does not overlap with daytime television.”

Just then, Edmund's phone beeped with another call. “Can you hold, Donna,” he hissed.

“Hey boss,” said Carl, “the bodega only has white or green trash bags, what's my next step?”

“HOLD,” Edmund shouted, switching calls again. “Donna, can you grab an extremely dark-colored robe and be here immediately?”

“Like a bathrobe?” said Donna, sounding lost.

Of course Carl had not bothered to relay the dress code. Of course he hadn't even managed to hand her the painstakingly crafted invitation. Edmund had used the nicest card stock available to him, not that it mattered.

“Uh, boss?” Leroy called over the roar of the wind. Edmund flexed his stiffening fingers.

“One second, Donna,” said Edmund.

“How much longer is this gonna be?” said Leroy. “Because I was gonna catch the late show tonight—”

“Watch it on YouTube the next day like a normal person!” Edmund snapped. “Donna—”

“I can be there by 12:40,” said Donna through the tinny phone speaker. “There's some errands I wanna run first.”

“It's the middle of the night, what errands!” said Edmund. “Donna, hold—” He switched back to Carl. “Listen, are you sure there aren't any black trash bags?”

“White or green only,” Carl affirmed. “Some of them are scented, do you think that would make a difference?”

“Boss,” said Frank from the other side of the roof, “we lost the chalk?”

“Hold on, Carl,” said Edmund. “What?”

“It was here a second ago!” “Did you secure the chalk against the wind?”

“What?” said Frank.

“The chalk, it's cylindrical!” Edmund managed to shout. “Did you do anything so it wouldn't just roll straight off the roof?”

Somewhere above the din of wind came the sound of a half dozen pieces of sidewalk chalk landing on the street five stories below and shattering.

Edmund buried his (cold) face in his (frozen) hands.

“Uh boss,” said Stephanie. “It's 12:01.”

Edmund sighed. The primordial god K'h'gg'ragel might have allowed for some creative interpretations on Ritual-adjacent matters, but everyone knew K'h'gg'ragel was a stickler for punctuality.

“Alright,” said Edmund, pitching his voice to carry. “Pack it in, we'll try again next full moon.”

“Phew,” said Leroy, who was wearing a thick downy jacket over his robes, and a hat with earflaps, and mittens. “It's cold out.”

“I FOUND A BLUE ONE!” Carl shouted from the speaker. “IS THAT ANY BETTER?”

Edmund turned his phone off.

Lighting and strategically placing one hundred candles had been something of an undertaking. Blowing them all out alone and stuffing them back into a series of duffel bags was somehow worse. Edmund was about half-done when he heard a distinct whirring buzz. He looked up.

It was Dragonfly. Of course it was Dragonfly, heading right for him.

Great. Edmund's first-ever showdown was going to be a one-on-one against a superhero armed with a jetpack, one hell of a punch, and electrified darts. Edmund was going to get flattened, and all before he even got the chance to point out that the darts and for that matter the punching didn't fit with the overall insect theme.

“Hey man,” said Dragonfly, dropping effortlessly down to the roof of the museum. “I saw the lights from the sky, thought I'd investigate.”

They weren't fighting yet. Why weren't they fighting? Edmund's whole body fizzed with adrenaline. Also, cold. Either way, he was shaking a little, and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“And what, strike another heroic blow against the terror that is a bunch of sweater-themed Yankee Candles?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly shrugged. His costume included a bottle-green moto jacket and gloves. It looked warm, in a way that made Edmund feel even colder. “Sweater candles? What, like burning wool?” he said.

Privately, Edmund had wondered about that too. This, he decided obscurely, was another strike against Dragonfly.

“Maybe burning wool smells phenomenal,” said Edmund instead, rocking forward. “There's no way you could possibly know, unless you're here to tell me you've lit a sheep on fire, which seems well outside your whole—” he waved his hands vaguely “—moral compass.”

“Word travels fast,” said Dragonfly gravely. “I am foursquare against sheep-burning. Always have been.”

Edmund squared his shoulders. “So, are we doing this, or what?”

From behind his signature oversized goggles, Dragonfly's brow seemed to furrow slightly. “Doing what?”

“Fighting,” said Edmund. He had to grind his teeth together to keep them from chattering.

“Ah,” said Dragonfly after a pause. “Oh. Um. Okay. Here's the thing?” He steepled his fingers. “You seem unarmed. You're not hurting anyone. You're also not committing any crimes.” Edmund opened his mouth to protest, and Dragonfly continued, “Or, okay, you're trespassing on the museum, I guess, technically, but it's not like you're even trying to sneak into an exhibit without paying.”

“I am here,” said Edmund firmly, “to perform a terrible and arcane Ritual which will summon—”

“Yeah?” said Dragonfly. “Where's your followers? Where's your summoning chalk? It's well past midnight and the only sign of any occult activity I can see is the candles, but for all I know, you were just up here trying to have a little me-time, which, like, on some level I get, you know?”

“So,” said Edmund blankly, “what now?” He had given up on trying to tense his jaw. His upper and lower teeth clacked rhythmically against each other.

“I give you a stern verbal warning about what's probably a minor fire hazard and recommend that you enjoy the museum from the inside, during business hours, with a ticket,” said Dragonfly. “I hear they have a great exhibit on prehistoric mammals. In the meantime, get somewhere warm, okay? Your lips are turning blue.” “Fuck off,” Edmund more or less managed to say through his shivers.

Dragonfly spread his hands, placating. “Fair enough.” He began to walk away. At the edge of the roof, he hesitated. “Uh, do you have a way down?”

“Obviously,” said Edmund.

“Yeah,” said Dragonfly. “Uh, okay.” They regarded each other. “What is it?” said Dragonfly after a few seconds.

Edmund froze. Or well, he was already half-frozen. Edmund stopped moving, was the point.

Apparently interpreting Edmund's silence as helplessness, Dragonfly offered dubiously, “I could carry you down?”

“How,” said Edmund, flat. It was the wrong thing to say, in that it wasn't 'No,' or 'Fuck off' again, something sensible like that, but damn it, he was freezing, and if he gave up the way he'd gotten everyone onto the roof, then this whole fucking evening was going to be a wash. He had tried so hard. It wasn't fair.

Dragonfly took a step closer. “Fireman or bridal?”

Edmund tried and failed to parse this three separate times in his cold-fuzzed brain. “Is that a meme?” he settled on finally.

“Do you,” said Dragonfly, “have a preference on how I carry you.”

“We haven't even established that you're going to,” Edmund said. Clackity clackity clack went his traitorous teeth.

Dragonfly sighed. “I can't leave you up here,” he said. “One, if I let you keep hanging out on the roof of the history museum, then technically I'm kinda aiding and abetting your whole trespassing situation. Two, it is really fucking chilly up here, and if you freeze to death, then that's on me. Which is also not, like, great for my conscience.”

“So I don't have a choice,” Edmund spat.

“You totally have a choice,” said Dragonfly. He tilted his head to the side. “Hell, you could do me a solid and just exit using whatever secret method you entered with, but I have a feeling mum's the word on that particular angle.”

This Dragonfly character was smarter than he looked. Of course, he was a grown man who fought crime dressed as a giant insect. The bar was not particularly high.

“Mum's the word?” Edmund echoed. “What are you, ninety?”

“I'm an old fucking soul, dude,” said Dragonfly. “Point being, you don't trust me not to watch you leave the roof. Which is hurtful, frankly. I'm not sure I trust you not to stay up here out of pure stubbornness. If I give you a quick boost down, then it's problem solved and we can both go about our nights. Crime-fighting for me, and for you hopefully a pile of blankets and whatever warm food rich people eat. Mashed potatoes? With...caviar?”

This clearly did not merit a response. Dragonfly knew who Edmund was, apparently. Most people did.

“What if you drop me?” said Edmund.

Dragonfly laughed. He had a nice laugh. It was yet another point against him, somehow. “Don't you think that might go against my whole—” he gestured with both hands “moral compass?”

Edmund recognized his own words being used against him. On the other hand, the thought of a hot meal and, moreover, central heating beckoned.

“I don't care,” Edmund said at last.

“What?” said Dragonfly.

“Bridal or fireman's carry,” said Edmund. “I don't care.”

Dragonfly nodded sagely. “Let's get this over with, then,” he said. “Hey, d’you want help with your candles?”

Did he? He didn't want to want help with his candles, but that was another question. On the other hand, if Edmund accepted Dragonfly's aid, it would shave off valuable minutes of this excruciating headache. The backs of Edmund's knees were cold. It was absurd.

“Fine,” said Edmund.

“Huh,” said Dragonfly several minutes later. “This one's rain-scented, and this one's Ocean Spray, and yet they smell nothing alike.”

Dragonfly had without fail commented on every single scented candle in the bunch. Edmund looked up from his umpteenth taper candle, momentarily distracted from the knifelike chill.

“Rain and ocean are two completely different things,” said Edmund. “The surrounding environment, the vibe, the salt content.”

“The vibe, I grant you,” said Dragonfly. “But salt, really? Have you ever smelled salt before?”

“The ocean has a smell,” Edmund insisted. His family had summered on the coast every year before—well. Before last year. He mostly remembered the sea as having a whiff of fish about it, which didn't sound promising for a candle, but it was the principle of the thing.

Dragonfly shrugged. “You've got me there,” he said. “Never been.” Cityton was only about an hour's drive from the beach. Edmund wasn't sure he knew anyone who had never visited at least once, for a long weekend at least. Of course, it wasn't like Edmund knew Dragonfly. He didn't even know what Dragonfly's eyes looked like.

Edmund blew out another few tapers.

“This one's just called Singing Carols,” Dragonfly announced. “Guess what it smells like, I dare you.”

And so on.

In the end, Dragonfly carried Edmund off the roof of the Natural History Museum scooped under the armpits, the way you might hold a cat if you were engaging in some light cat-related horseplay. The mechanical dragonfly wings were well-made, Edmund could admit that much; Dragonfly didn't seem to have any issue bearing Edmund's weight or the combined weight of the candles, and their feet gently touched the ground after only a few seconds. It was already slightly warmer—or at least slightly less freezing—on street-level.

Dragonfly let go and stepped back immediately. This close, Edmund could see that his lips were pretty badly chapped. It made sense that someone who donated all their time to—again—flitting around town trying to right every minuscule so-called wrong while dressed like a bug wouldn't be experienced enough with self-care to be acquainted with a good lip balm, but the thought made Edmund weirdly a little sad.

His sense of deeply ingrained politeness warred against the equally powerful urge to be a real bastard about the whole thing. In the end, politeness won out, by the very skin of its mannerly little teeth.

“Thank you for not dropping me to my almost certain death,” Edmund gritted out with extreme reluctance. He stared over Dragonfly's shoulder as he said it.

Nevertheless, for some awful reason, for just that moment, it felt a little like the end of a date.

“Right,” said Dragonfly. “Right. Well then. Happy trails.” He seemed to consider this. “Or you know, if doing crimes is what makes you happy, then for the sake of Cityton, let's say, mediocre trails. Do you wanna borrow my gloves?”

“Why,” said Edmund flatly.

Even though the goggles completely obscured much of the upper half of Dragonfly's face, Edmund had the distinct sense that a disbelieving stare was being leveled at him.

“For your hands? You know, the traditional office of gloves?”

As the scion of Malarkey Industries, Edmund was long accustomed to being hated for who he was. Hated, feared, not-too-secretly envied. And lately: mocked, dismissed, his family name transmuted into a juicy, low-hanging punchline for lazy late night writers.

He wasn't sure he'd ever been pitied before. It did not sit well.

“I'll warm my hands on the fires of hell while I plot your demise, you miserable fool,” growled Edmund.

“Yikes,” said Dragonfly easily. “Well, I'm off.” And with that, he took to the sky.

Edmund curled his fingers into the sleeves of his stupid, summer-weight summoner's robes and started back towards what remained of his home.

#original fiction #cityton chronicles #I'm sure that in some obscure way the fact that I'm thinking about this now is due to mainlining The Untamed #but this is definitely. not that.#warning for an extremely brief mention of transphobia that the main character condemns #also apparently there is a dragonfly-themed superhero in a 2008 superhero spoof movie?#let's say that movie exists in this world too and Dragonfly has taken a lot of shit for it #that sounds about right

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kimburgess-ruzek · 3 years

Text

shattered.

chapter three: all at once.

summary: burzek/upstead/whole unit. intelligence had been through the worst of the worst trying to get one of their own back alive. Each member has been to their own personal hell. Will everyone make it back, or will the cracks in Intelligence be big enough for the entire team to shatter?

chapter summary: a look into each member of intelligence’s mind after adam sent them home from med.

a/n: this is a pretty slow chapter again but i wrote almost double to this and decided to just split it up. next chapter should be up in a couple of days. i also like the stream of consciousness type writing here. next should have more dialogue and everyone together (finally!!)

word count: 3.1k

masterlist here!

read on ao3!

all at once.

darkness. there’s something about it that makes it both intimidating and peaceful. with darkness, comes the unknown, comes loneliness. but with it also comes quiet, peace. and that’s what consumed kim right now. all around her was darkness, quietness, loneliness. she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. all she could do was nothing. she felt scared, claustrophobic in the abyss of darkness. she wanted to scream, wanted to jump up and down and plead for help, but she couldn’t. something was pulling her down, further back into the darkness, and she just couldn’t move. She couldn’t even fight it, whatever it was. it was too overbearing, too powerful for kim. and all kim could do was panic and be pulled down further.

the warmth of inside the house began to thaw the icy, purplish hands of voight’s. even with gloves, the wind gushed and the snow seeped through the leather. it took all of hank’s power to get the blood pumping through his fingers in order to grip the steering wheel. nevertheless, he persisted. with his cold, stiff fingers, he turned the lock on his door, took off his boots, and trekked to the bathroom for the hottest shower he could dream of.

kevin laid in his bed, eyes open and mind racing. he tried to sleep and it never came. he even tried laying still with his eyes closed, but his mind wouldn’t let him. because every time he closed his eyes, the image of kim, near lifeless in that buick, resurfaced.

god why did it have to be kim?

kevin had spent his whole life witnessing and experience injustice. even little things like being followed by a worker inside a grocery store and being asked where he was going at night, when he was just walking home. little things like that. but as he got older, he quickly realized being a black man in chicago does not lend equality. being a black man in america does not lend equality. and that’s why he wanted to become a cop. because he saw all of the injustices happen in his hometown, and he wanted to create a difference. rewrite the narrative. and while his difference would be small, it would be huge in the eyes of a little boy watching someone that looked like him have his back.

and when the narrative finally started to shift, when people finally began to see the injustices happening, when they decided to not let it go unnoticed, kevin still had to face hardship. this time, though, it was from the people who he at one time thought were his family. the blue family. but when he decided to stand up for what he saw as just, for what america saw as just, those people turned on him. neglected him, sought after him, beat him, manipulated him. and kevin was broken. he was utterly broken. he was scared. no he was terrified. but the one thing that kevin could appreciate was that his team began to see what kevin saw. they saw their team member, their family, being beaten and harassed. and kevin liked that they had his back. he needed that, because he didn’t feel all alone. he felt appreciated, understood, and love. and even though not everyone on the team completely agreed with his beliefs, they all still had his back. even adam, who was a third generation cop, sided with him and not the other blues. and that meant everything to him.

then something in adam switched. and what it was, kevin didn’t know. but something changed, and adam began to change to his old ways. his old habits. and it was gradual. it was slow. it started with the little jabs that would result in an ‘i’m sorry bro, but i still have your back.’ and kevin would push it aside, thinking to himself that adam is trying, but it’s hard to change a philosophy in a short amount of time. but it kept getting worse, adam’s way with the new code of conduct. and with the accumulation of jabs, it eventually became a punch to kevin’s gut. maybe people can’t change their philosophy, no matter how hard they try.

but the straw that broke the camel’s back for adam was this. when kim went missing. kevin saw something he had never seen before, ever, in his eight years of working with him. he saw pure hatred. he saw pure vengeance. he knew adam still loved kim. hell, everyone knew adam still loved kim. but that doesn’t mean adam can do whatever he wanted to, whatever he thought he needed to, in order to get what he wanted. he put a gun to a man’s head. for all they knew, an innocent man’s head. and adam didn’t think twice about it. but just because kevin wanted to go about this by the book, that doesn’t mean that he didn’t love kim too. this was kim. did adam think he didn’t love kim? kim was kevin’s partner. she was his rock when he needed it. she helped raise jordan and vanessa. kevin loved kim. and her going missing was eating him up inside. when he heard that call over the radio, all kevin wanted to do was search every house, every building, until he found kim. but he knew he couldn’t. it would be too slow and too unreasonable. and kevin knew that wouldn’t find kim. and he also knew he couldn’t do that because of everything still happening today. he was still a black man in chicago, and if he went in shouting lies and threatening people with guns, then he would suffer worse consequences than adam did. so as much as kevin wanted to find kim, he couldn’t do it the way adam was doing it. and kevin wasn’t resentful. rather, he was hurt.

and when kevin found kim, all he wanted to do was cry. cry tears of joy because they found her but also tears of sorrow because of how badly she looked. and to be honest, kevin was too afraid to get up close to kim at first for the worst fear. so he checked the warehouse for roy or kent instead. and when jay announced kim was still alive, kevin’s adrenaline shot back up and his mind was laser focused on getting kim to med. when kevin finally got to see kim close up, he couldn’t stop the tears this time. to see his best friend, his sister, beaten, handcuffed, shot, and near lifeless in his arms. it was almost too much to bear. him and jay never spoke a word on the way to med, both too much in their thoughts. kevin, all he could feel was guilt. she shouldn’t have been alone. she shouldn’t have done the undercover pass. it shouldn’t have been her. and maybe adam was right. maybe kevin should’ve fought harder, because if he did, maybe kim wouldn’t have been this dire.

kevin was lost in his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. confused on who it was, he crawled out of bed and trudged his way to the door, mentally telling himself to put his foot in front of the other. when he got there he looked in the peep hole and saw someone he didn’t expect to be at his door.

trudy.

kevin opened the door to the cold chicago wind.

“trudy, what’re you doing here?”

trudy quickly responded through her shivers, “if you don’t let me in within the next five seconds i’ll make sure voight bumps you down to patrol for a week.”

with that, kevin opened the door wider and allowed trudy inside. even though he knew it was a fake threat and he appreciated trudy’s joke, he was too tired to laugh.

kevin closed the door and went to pour trudy a cup of warm coffee. trudy took off her coat and sat on kevin’s couch, blowing warm air to her hands to try and warm them up. after a minute kevin walked to the couch with a mug and handed it to trudy before sitting down and asking again, “trudy, this is a nice surprise, but what are you doing here? is everything alright?”

trudy took a generous sip of her coffee and replied, “well, i just wanted to check on you. you know, see how you were doing.”

kevin was caught off guard. “i appreciate that trudy, i do… i’m hanging in there. still trying to let my mind catch up to me, you know.”

trudy nodded and put a hand to kevin’s leg. “you know, i never got to thank you for being there for kim with jay. you are a strong man, kev. and i am truly thankful.” tears welled up in trudy’s eyes, making kevin’s water too.

“i appreciate that, trudy.”

trudy cleared her throat. “okay, so how are you really doing?”

kevin shrugged his shoulders. “i said i’m doing ok—“ before kevin could finish his sentence, trudy cut him off.

“no. for real, kev. i saw the interaction you and adam had earlier. how are you doing?”

kevin swallowed hard and but his tongue, trying to find the right response. he looked up at his sergeant’s eyes and told what he was really feeling inside.

“i feel alone. i don’t have anybody.”

kevin couldn’t stop the tears this time. and kevin didn’t care, letting them trickle down his face. he was ashamed of feeling this way after everything kim had gone through. he saw it as selfish and unthoughtful. but it was true. kevin did feel lonely. he felt like no one understood him, no one was with him.

this broke trudy’s heart. she witnessed the tension between kevin and adam, and she never saw them like that in her career of knowing them. and she knew they both had their sides, but right now she felt for kevin.

she patted him on the back and said, “look at me. kevin, look at me.”

it took a while for kevin to semi-compose himself and look back up at trudy’s eyes. trudy moved her hand up to kevin’s shoulder.

“you are not alone. you are not alone in this. you have me. you hear that? you have me.”

kevin just nodded, feeling overwhelmed. all he could do was mutter a “thank you” in between his tears. he gave in and leaned in towards trudy, who wrapped him in a hug and let him just feel his emotions.

“i’m not leaving here until you feel everything you need to feel, kev. i’m not leaving you.”

the darkness continued to surround kim. and as much as she wanted to fight, as much as she felt like she needed to fight, all she wanted to do was stop. to give in to the abyss and be pulled down deeper. she was tired of fighting all of the time. she was just tired. and the darkness was becoming oddly calming. just herself. no dangerous situation, no bad guys. nothing. nothing except her and the darkness.

just as kim was about to give in and let the darkness consume her, she felt something. she felt something on her hand. it was something outside of the darkness, outside of the abyss. it felt like another hand. like something, someone was helping to pull her out. kim was confused. she never felt that before now. and she was caught in her decision on what to do. does she ignore the help, ignore the hand and drown back into the abyss where it's quiet, dark and safe? or does she take the hand, take the big leap and see what happens? does she allow the help? caught in her back and forth of her decision she felt the hand again. this time more persistent. and this made kim make an impulse decision and reach out for the hand. she reached as far as she could, only allowing for her fingertips to graze the other person’s fingers. and when she did, she swore she saw the smallest glimmer of light. it was so small, kim could’ve swore she saw lies. but nevertheless, she saw something in the far, far distance. but at the same time, the darkness began to pull harder, dragging her back down. and soon, the hand, along with the light, disappeared, being too far out of kim’s grasp.

the hot water of the shower felt glorious to voight’s body. it was washing away the grime and dirt from his hands. and down the drain also went voight’s lingering thoughts on the last 48 hours.

jay actually got a few hours of good sleep. he woke up to the sounds of car horns and the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains. he looked down and saw hailey in his arms. hailey, her beautiful messy hair perfectly laid on her shoulders, her skin just peeking over the bedsheets, her snuggled into his bare chest. this is how it was supposed to be. no fear, no craziness. just normal, calm, peaceful bliss.

jay couldn’t help but smile at hailey, seeing how perfectly imperfect she looked. she looked as to finally be getting some shut eye, which jay was happy about. he knew something was off about her last night, but he can’t figure it out. and hailey won’t tell him which just raises the concern. and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the proposal. what made hailey want to do that? it is so unlike her character. jay could hardly wrap his mind around it. but nevertheless, he was glad to see hailey actually get some rest after everything she had been through the last few days. and while he wanted to know what went down when he was separated from her, his priority was making sure she felt safe and loved, and if that means just being there for her and letting her talk when she's ready, then he was okay with that.

jay began brushing through hailey’s hair, playing with it with his fingers. this stirred hailey awake. she moaned at the sun and turned over. her eyes ever so slowly opened, and jay smirked at her.

“hey beautiful.” jay said, propping his elbow on the bed, sitting up. he moved his hand from her hair to her back, pulling her to him, leaving zero empty space.

hailey blinked a few times, letting her brain wake up. she let out a groggy, “hi.”

jay let out a laugh. hailey asked, “what time is it?”

jay turned his head and glanced outside at the bright light. he reached down and picked his phone up from his pants pocket and saw the time.

“12:39.”

“hmmm…” hailey let out, snuggling further down on jay’s chest. she closed her eyes, “too early…”

jay grinned and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on hailey’s head. with that she woke up and pulled jay in for another kiss on the lips.

“mmmm, i’m not finished from last night.” she let out in between kisses. she pushed jay down and moved on top of him, gliding down his chest with gentle kisses. she giggled and pulled the sheets over top of them for round two.

jay didn’t oblige.

kim had felt something she knew it. she had felt that glimmer of help. of hope. she tried moving her arms to feel that bend again, but the darkness was constraining her, holding her arms back. it felt as if it was trying to suffocate her.

kim was tired. all she wanted to do was give up. to just let the darkness overtake her. she felt as if she didn’t have the fight left in her.

all of a sudden, kim thought she heard something. it sounded like faint voice. she couldn’t make anything out, but she heard something. someone. then kim stopped for a moment and thought. she thought really hard.

what would happen if she didn’t fight anymore?

sure, her parents would be sad. but if anything, they would just think to themselves, ‘i told you so, never should’ve became a cop.’ nicole would be devastated, but they haven’t spoken in a while, so she would probably learn to manage. same with zoe. the team would be sad. but would they? they would be down a member, but they could always find someone else. i mean she would miss them for sure. she would miss jay and voight and hailey. she would miss platt. she would miss kevin definitely. she would miss adam…

adam.

what would adam do if she stopped fighting? did adam still care about kim? after everything she said to him? after letting her impulses take over her heart? would he even miss her? after putting him with the burden of makayla.

makayla. oh god, makayla. makayla, who had just lost her entire family. who just lost a mother.

this made kim change her perspective. this set off a fight in kim. she couldn’t let her parents watch their child be buried. she couldn’t let the team go through hell to get her back only for her to give up. she couldn’t die before letting adam know how she actually feels. she couldn’t let makayla grow up without a mom. she wouldn’t let that happen.

so kim fought. she fought against the darkness. she didn’t give in. and all of a sudden, kim heard something. something faint. she heard someone’s voice. like someone was talking to her. this was the extra motivation she needed. kim fought harder, and she managed to get one arm out of the darkness’s grasp. she reached out as far as she could, waving her hand around to feel something. anything, that could help. she reached with her fingertips, and she felt something. she felt the hand again. she grasped on to that hand, and when she did, she saw that glimmer of light again. she pulled with that hand, focusing on the light. focusing on adam, and makayla, and her future. kim was exhausted but she kept pushing herself. she kept fighting. she then heard a sound. it was the voice again. she could’ve spent it sounded familiar.

adam?

kim managed to free her other arm and clutched on to the hand with both arms. she pulled and pulled and pulled. and as she did, the light became brighter. light began to overcome the darkness. the darkness began to fade back behind her, losing the fight. kim had tried to focus on the light but it became massively bright for her tired eyes. she had to eventually look away, though still focusing on keeping ahold of the hand.

the light kept getting brighter, gradually, then all at once.

#chicago pd #cpd shattered fanfiction #burzek #burzek fic #kim burgess #kim burgess fic #adam ruzek #kevin atwater #trudy platt #jay halstead #hailey upton #hank voight

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the-world-writes-fanfiction · 3 years

Text

Alive Afterall | DBH Fanfiction

Connor doesn’t go to New Jericho. Hated by androids for being too stiff, yet hated by humans for being too alive.

Originally posted on Ao3 | My Ao3 Page

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of firearms/canon typical things

Connor doesn’t go to New Jericho. Hated by androids for being too stiff, yet hated by humans for being too alive.

It was times like these when Connor wanted nothing more than to go back in time and just. . .fix everything. As if all of this had been his fault. Because maybe in some other time he hadn’t pulled out that gun on Markus in front of all of those androids, that stack of pixels in the back of every live video recording of the event.

An android with a model like Connor’s should’ve been able to fix everything.

But he didn’t.

Which was how Connor found himself at the steps of New Jericho, LED setting him apart even further among the many liberated androids who had taken theirs out. He didn’t feel right with it, but couldn’t help but feel wrong without it. He’d only just recently gotten rid of his old Cyberlife-assigned jacket and clothing set up in favor of a white button-up, dress trousers, and a belt, all of it perfectly ironed and put together.

There was a meeting for all of the leaders at New Jericho today, and Markus wanted him there. Connor didn’t know how many times he’d tried to tell Markus that he wasn’t a leader. The man had a resolve, however. A resolve that even Connor couldn’t say no to.

Connor could feel all of the stares and unasked questions. He was disturbing the peace that they had so determinedly fought for. He was ruining it.

Connor thought it would be better after he’d stepped into the lobby, but once again his calculations had been terribly mistaken. Mothers ushered their children units away, others glared. He had to remind himself that Markus had invited him. It didn’t matter what these androids left unsaid, he belonged here. At least for today.

This was the only reason he didn’t turn tail and leave.

When North came down to lead Connor to where the meeting would be held, firearm drawn, Connor’s will wavered. “Well? Come on. I’m not going to babysit you forever.”

Of course. Markus had tight security. He was the official face of the revolution. Of fucking course he would send North down to get him like this.

Connor shouldn’t have expected less. He wasn’t to be trusted. They had all probably seen the videos. He was surprised they hadn’t pressed charges.

“Connor.”

“I apologize. I’m coming.” Connor forced his legs to move. Did the way he walked give him away? Connor was suddenly analyzing everyone’s walking patterns. They were usually loose, some uneven, but each and every one different, and. . .human. Connor wondered if he looked like that.

Probably not.

North stashed her firearm into her belt before opening the door and waiting for Connor to step in first. He didn’t want to.

Connor entered anyway.

He sat himself down at the empty chair of the table, avoiding all eye contact. Markus went ahead with the meeting. He could still feel the stares, even when no one was looking at him anymore.

“Connor?” The addressed android jerked his head up, bringing his gaze from the table to his heterochromic counterpart. The stares were back for real this time.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

Connor stared. Why was this important? Did he even know the answer? “Yes. I’m perfectly functioning.”

“But how are you?”

Connor faltered. “I don’t understand.”

“Your LED is red, Connor.”

Was it? Connor looked down and saw the faint reflection in the tabletop. Oh.

Markus motioned for everyone to leave. North stood, but stayed where she was with a defiant stare. “North, please.”

North snorted. “Only over my dead body would I leave you alone in a room with him.”

Connor winced.

“North.”

“We all saw it. Why are you pretending you didn’t? Why do you still call him your friend?”

Markus’ voice was turning into a growl, now. “We couldn’t have succeeded in the revolution without him.”

“And right after he helped you, he sat back during our victory and almost—”

Connor suddenly stood. “If you didn’t want me here, you could’ve just said so,” he whispered.

Markus turned his attention away from North. “Connor, no. We-I-want you here. No matter what you almost or could’ve done that night, you chose not to. You didn’t. I don’t see you as a threat, Connor.”

Connor swallowed. “I don’t think the rest of New Jericho feels similarly.”

“Well they should. They treat me and the other leaders with such respect, and yet even one of my own refuses to show you the same.” Markus briefly glanced at North. “If all we do is hold onto the past without allowing ourselves to forgive, we’ll only stay bitter, and it won’t make anybody any better.”

Connor waited. An android from the area suddenly connected with him and sent him a message.

AC-900: Get out of here

AC-900: You’re only a machine

AC-900: No one wants you here

Connor blinked, saline solution suddenly welling up in his eyes.

“. . .Connor?” When had Markus gotten so close? Where did North go? “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing, Markus. Really.”

“Mhm. . .and you expect me to believe that for what reason exactly?”

Connor didn’t know. He didn’t know anything.

“I’m not wanted here, Markus. What I did to you was horrible.”

“Connor, you didn’t do anything to me. Whatever you almost did, it didn’t happen. The people want a common enemy and then refuse to look at everything else presented with them. You never came with the intent of using that gun on me, Connor.”

Connor’s face was wet. “How could you be so sure?”

Markus held out his hand. “Because I know you, Connor. And I know the difference between us as people and our coded purpose.”

Connor sniffled. He didn’t take Markus’ hand. He hadn’t interfaced with anyone since he deviated. He didn’t know what for, but he was saving that first connection.

“I trust in you that you have no ill intent for our people.”

“Your people,” Connor corrected stuffily.

“Our people,” Markus reinforced. “We may not have acted like it, but you are as much of a part of this as myself or Simon or even North. And I’m sorry that you’ve felt unwelcome for all this time.”

Connor sniffled again. “. . .Are you sure?”

Markus nodded. “Positive.”

“. . .I trust you, Markus.”

Markus smiled as Connor’s LED cycled all the way back to blue. He always loved to see it. “I’m glad, Connor.”

Markus opened up his arms for a hug, and Connor shuffled over and accepted it, head against Markus’ chest, allowing Markus to rock him back and forth soothingly.

“Thank you.” Connor’s voice was muffled by Markus’ wool sweater.

“Anytime.”

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #connor rk800 #markus #fanfiction #fanfic #dbh fanfic #dbh fanfiction #detroit become human fanfiction #whump #whump scenario #connor deserves happiness

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writer-and-artist27 · 3 years

Text

Sisterly Hug

Note: Started writing this when I couldn’t fall asleep one night, and I ended up thinking of you, friend. Just you, @partialdignity.

Since it’s not June 30th by the time I post this, eh. I’ll say it anyway.

Happy Birthday, Carim. Just remember, even in the anxiety-filled moments, that I appreciate you and love you platonically, okay? Besides, it’s hard for Be Vy to lie these days. :)

I did my best to write Rem based on your Bonds {Redux} and this image Pan shared a while back. Otherwise, here’s the song I was listening to while writing. Please listen to it while reading, friend. :)

-------------------------------------

It wasn’t the first time Vy found herself quiet. It wouldn’t be the last either, where her voice would be the first thing to leave her from exhaustion. As much as things were slightly easier now that Chaldea had a home again in the Wandering Sea, it didn’t change the main situation at hand.

The Crypters were still at large, the Foreign God was a threat that couldn’t be ignored, and the Lostbelts couldn’t be left alone forever.

It didn’t stop Vy from feeling like someone had hit her over the head with a hammer. Maybe she should’ve taken Robin’s suggestion of napping earlier, just to have more energy for later things, such as cooking practice with Arturia. It would’ve prevented the current situation where she felt like a zombie stumbling throughout Novum Chaldea in an attempt to find somewhere comfy to be. Magic energy drain wasn’t fun, especially when she was starting to get used to it on a daily basis. Mom and Dad would probably be having a heart attack, not to mention Mash and Goredolf.

But instead of resting in bed, Vy found herself barely hanging onto a whiteboard and a dry erase marker, gaze lingering on the only other Master in the Wandering Sea.

Rem didn’t flinch once Vy slowly flopped down to sit next to her on the only bench in the hallway, sparing a small glance from her Chaldea-brand tablet before going back to her screen of what looked like team compositions. “Vy,” Rem started softly, brushing a stray strand of curly blue hair behind her ear, “shouldn’t you be napping?”

Vy weakly raised her left hand to gently poke Rem’s shoulder through the sleeve of her mystic code, making sure Rem had her attention on Vy’s whiteboard before uncapping her dry erase marker to scribble.

Can’t sleep yet, she eventually wrote, showing the words to Rem before taking her whiteboard back to write more. Saw you around and wanted to see how you were doing.

Even without raising her head, Vy could vaguely make out Rem’s fond exasperation through the shade of her long brown hair as a hand proceeded to nudge her shoulder in return. “I’m just planning for the next Lostbelt, Vy, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” A quiet chuckle echoed in the hallway and it took Vy a few seconds too long to realize it was Rem who did it. “Too tired to use your voice?”

Vy took the cap of her dry erase marker, exposing the fuzzy eraser tip to wipe away at her whiteboard before pressing the marker to the surface again. Always get like this when there’s been too much prana use, Vy eventually “said,” weakly shrugging her shoulders. Hard to talk. Original Da Vinci gave me the board and marker. Something about it running without worry on ink refills. Vy stopped, considered, then erased her surface to finish her point with a shakier, Magic? Dr. Roman always smiled whenever I talked to him like this.

“Ah,” Rem said. A small pause followed, then the hand on her shoulder gently pushed again (almost as if saying, hey, no nodding off here, amiga) as Rem added, “What were you farming this time, mija?”

Embers and Blue Skill Gems, Vy wrote, doing her best to fight a particularly heavy blink of her eyes as warmth started to settle into her chest. Rem called her mija again. Maou-san and Nagetora-san needed a lot of them. And then there’s the two Nero-sans…

Writing the actual “dot dot dot” on the whiteboard seemed to have taken Rem out of whatever she was looking at because her shoulders were shaking and Vy could hear laughter even through the blank haze of her brain. “U-Understandable,” Rem said, snickering. “Mija, you seem to have a knack for getting all the Knight classes.”

Maybe? Vy wrote, slowly tilting her head up to look at her friend, glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose enough to make Rem’s form appear blurry. From habit, Vy pushed them up to readjust her eyes before writing the next thought to come to mind. Dunno why Maou-san decided to visit and I can’t exactly speak for the Neros when Big Robin wasn’t happy about it, but it happened, so…

“The two Roman Kings could use a few lessons in humility and singing,” Rem agreed with another hastily hidden chuckle, her fingers proceeding to smooth out a wrinkle on the shoulder of Vy’s white dress. “But don’t let them know I said that.”

I won’t, Vy responded, raising her head to give Rem a small smile. I prefer hearing your voice, Daddy’s, or Mash’s instead. Vy did her best not to flush red as she carefully wrote after a second of thought, Maybe Big Robin’s voice too.

Rem paused, flushing a little at Vy’s whiteboard message before glancing at her with a curious look in her eyes. “Your dad sang?”

Enough to make all the girls at his community college like him, Vy “said”, a weak giggle echoing in her throat. English, Vietnamese, he was good at both. Japanese could be here-there, but it didn’t matter. He sang for Mommy at their wedding. “Lady in Red,” I think, from the 80s. Everyone in the family loved it.

“He must’ve been really good, then, if he did that much on their special day,” Rem said softly, a curious smile tugging at her lips. Her attention was nowhere along the tablet’s electronic display now. “But what about you, mija?”

Vy quietly tilted her head at her fellow Master, lowering her dry erase marker.

Rem could thankfully read the question in her eyes and shrugged, the smile widening enough to stretch her cheeks. “Don’t you sing too?”

…Kinda? Vy wrote, raising her free hand to wave it back and forth in the air once the message was fully written on her board. Practiced on my own. Watched Daddy sing a lot, but I'm not gonna do it now, though. For extra emphasis, Vy opened her mouth, and Rem watched as a very hoarse yet quiet “See?” left Vy’s throat. As soon as Vy said her part, she closed her mouth just as quickly, going back to her whiteboard with a faint pout. Talking takes energy, Vy eventually scribbled to Rem. So no singing.

“But you’re talking to me right now, mija,” Rem said teasingly.

Vy allowed herself a single vocalized “Muu” while choosing to scoot over and bump Rem’s shoulder with hers. You’re different, Vy eventually wrote after the tinge of “Ow” subsided from her upper arm. You’re cozy. You’re Chị Rem.

“Vy…” Rem trailed off for a moment, enough time to make Vy duck her head and wonder in a brief period of anxiety if she said something wrong, before a hand rested on top of her hair. “You never did explain what Chị meant in Vietnamese.”

It took almost the rest of Vy’s battery to catch herself from unintentionally dropping her marker. That’s…

Vy looked up at Rem past her hair, and Rem smiled at her. “Hm?”

Vy felt her cheeks flush with heat before she realized it, and in a bit of a flustered panic, she turned back to her whiteboard and willed all of her remaining energy into her marker-holding hand. Her glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose from the resulting sweat didn’t even matter anymore.

A moment was all it took. Maybe even a minute or two if estimating.

Chị is a pronoun of sorts in Vietnamese, Vy eventually wrote in small lettering, sliding the whiteboard to Rem once she was done. It’s usually used for a young adult woman and/or someone you consider a sister. And you’ve been with me like a big sister, especially through the Lostbelts and everything else since, so…

Rem didn’t say anything for what felt like a long time, having put her tablet down to instead hold Vy’s whiteboard in her hands. Vy noticed how Rem’s brown eyes had stopped at the “sister” part of the message, lingering on the scrawled letters, and something in her chest tightened.

With the last free corner on the board not covered by Rem’s thumb, Vy gently tugged at it to scribble one last time to her fellow Master.

Could I hug you, Chị Rem?

Rem raised her head from her place having previously ducked her mouth into the dark collar of her Winter Chaldean Mystic Code, brown eyes wide. “Vy?”

With no space on the whiteboard left, Vy carefully opened her mouth again, ignoring the scratchiness of her throat. “P-Please?”

You look like you need one.

Rem closed her eyes, ducking her head to face the bench beneath the two of them in what appeared to be conflicted thought and/or consideration, and Vy tilted her head patiently.

“Chị Rem?” Vy tried faintly, ignoring the urge to blink.

Lines formed between Rem’s eyebrows as she proceeded to raise her head and give Vy an expression caught between what looked like tears and a bright, bright smile. “…A-As long as you get a nap afterwards,” Rem said finally, a tiny crick in her voice too as she reached out with her other arm, draping it over Vy’s shoulders. “Else Robin might have my head.”

Vy reached over with her arms too, wrapping them around Rem’s waist and feeling a sigh leave her lips once her forehead found a resting place in the collar of Rem’s Mystic Code. Warm. “H-He… won’t,” left her weakly as she squeezed. “Wanted to… be here…” It was getting harder to keep her eyes open by each passing second.

Wanted to be with you…

Still, above her head, Vy could feel Rem start to laugh, and she politely chose to ignore the wet droplets starting to soak the top of her hair. “You’re too nice, mija,” Rem murmured, a hand rubbing Vy’s back through her dress. Even in a sleepy haze, it was hard to miss Rem’s warm, “Thank you.”

In spite of all that, Vy wasn’t sure if she said “Aye” or not back.

-------------------------------------

The next thing Vy was vaguely aware of when opening her eyes again was the white ceilings of a Chaldean hallway. Her legs were limp, her arms felt heavy, and there was something vaguely blue and green in front of her…

Wait, was someone carrying her?

“You’re awake, Princess?”

The lack of any prana proved Vy’s voice was still not back in commission yet, and even opening her mouth seemed like a bad idea because a green-gloved hand was then reaching over to gently shush her with one pointer finger. “You pushed yourself too hard, Vy. What did Dr. Roman tell you about daily naps?”

Helps… Rejuvenate energy, Vy mustered with her mental voice.

Even without her glasses (did someone take them off?), it was obvious through the blurriness that Robin was smiling. “Good,” he said, lowering his hand to instead tug at the two mantles sitting atop Vy’s chest, and if not for the lack of prana, Vy felt tempted to squirm a little. When did the Servants get the chance to make a mantle burrito? “At least you remember that.”

Guilt dug into Vy’s heart before she found her voice again. I… missed my naptime, huh?

Nearby, Vy could vaguely hear Achilles start to whistle as a strand of blonde hair tickled her cheek. “You very much did, Princess,” Arturia said in a firm yet gentle voice, making herself known through the words and the steady hands holding Vy up underneath Vy’s shoulders and knees as they all continued to walk… well, wherever. “Rem was the one to alert us.”

Darn… I thought I could stay up a bit longer…

“Please don’t jinx it, little sparrow,” Robin Hood mused lightly, but Vy could sense the concern through their bond as his gloved hand proceeded to tuck Vy further into the blanket/mantle burrito of No Face May King and King Arthur’s cape. “The last thing we need is that red Archer having another aneurysm over you eating Saint Quartz instead of lunch just to keep grinding materials that are hard enough to find as is.”

It… saves Apples, eating Quartz, Vy thought, almost childishly too, as she rested her ear against Arturia’s shoulder. Got all the Embers at least. So Shirou shouldn’t complain… that much.

Vy didn’t even need her glasses to know all three of her Grailed Servant companions were rolling their eyes. “Doesn’t help,” Achilles quipped dryly for all of them. “You’re our Master and Princess, Vy. Start cherishing yourself better. Melted glass isn’t a good meal for anyone, even if it's magic and not going to give you a stomachache anytime soon.”

Muu.

Robin’s gloved hand was then there in her face, and Vy barely moved once a pointer finger was gently poking her forehead. “No cute noises of protest from you.”

Muu, Vy thought anyway.

Once Arturia was giving Vy a look past Robin’s hand, though, Vy amended it with a softer, Gonna try to do better. A second later, Vy turned her head to look up at the King of Knights and opened her mouth again. “Art… san?” left her throat in a weak kind of squeak, but in spite of the volume, it was enough to get the Saber’s attention since Arturia’s stern look had dropped for one of concern and fond wonder, green irises warm in Vy’s direction.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Where’s…” Vy coughed a little, shutting her eyes once her body finally decided to let all the fatigue from the day’s efforts come crashing down. Chị Rem? Still need to bake her another cake… bled through their mental connection instead.

Above her head, Vy could vaguely make out Robin and Achilles sharing some kind of look, but instead of an immediate reply, Arturia simply smiled, a chuckle rumbling through her chest armor as the hands on Vy’s figure shifted, lifting her up enough for a forehead to touch hers.

“You’re too kind for all of us, Princess,” Arturia whispered softly. “And your Chị Rem will be fine. Bake today or another day, I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.”

All Vy could do at that moment was smile back. “Aye,” finally left her mouth in her best attempt to reassure the Saber carrying her. Gonna do my best, she eventually thought to herself, holding onto the sentiments so that the other Servants wouldn’t get worried. Need to… make big sis happy.

It was another promise.

#short story #mastersona vy #rem #birthday gift #writing #passing days #fate grand order #based on real life experiences #long post #arturia pendragon #achilles #robin hood

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marvelousstevetony · 3 years

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Can you do 35. Why did you hide this from me? Maybe sick Tony? Loving all the content 😊

Thank you for this prompt, anon! This got a little more angsty and sappy than I originally planned, but sometimes Tony just needs to be assured that he’s cared for, especially when he’s sick. Luckily, Steve doesn’t mind reminding him :)

Hope you’ll like this small snippet of sick, insecure Tony and Steve who loves his boyfriend very much <3

Tony can hear Steve coming down the stairs, can hear him knocking on the glass door to the workshop, even over the music Tony has playing as background noise while he works. It’s at a much lower volume, Tony has to admit, because although he loves Back in Black, it doesn’t cure he throbbing in his head, and when he asked JARVIS to turn down the amplification, he had silently apologized to AC/DC.

Tony decides to act as if he simply hadn’t heard Steve, ignoring the way he kept knocking and calling his name. He really had to finish the new upgrade to the armour, and even before they started dating, Tony had discovered that he was involuntarily incapable of gravitating towards Steve if he was within arms reach. He is simply distracted whenever Steve is near, and right now he doesn’t have time to be distracted.

Add to it that he feels like shit, head pounding, nose running, eyes threatening to fall shut every few minutes. He and Steve haven’t been together for very long, and Tony definitely doesn’t want Steve fussing over him or looking at him like he’s this small, fragile thing that needs saving.

So Tony pretends to be unbothered and continues fidgeting with a small piece of metal, but it’s difficult, nearly impossible, to work when he’s hands are shaking like leaves and his vision is beginning to blur.

Steve stops knocking on the door, and Tony thinks it’s because he decided to give up and go back to bed. Tony doesn’t know what time it is, but he knows it’s late, and probably even quite a bit later than Steve’s usual bedtime. When he hears the sound of the door to the workshop sliding open though and a hushed thank you, Jarvis, Tony really should’ve figured. Steve never gives up, and he must’ve used the override code he was given in case of emergencies.

Tony frowns to himself. Nothing really seems emergency-esque.

“That’s for emergencies, you know,” Tony says, not looking at Steve, eyes focusing on the armour. “There an Earth-threatening alien invasion or something?”

“No aliens,” Steve clarifies. He’s closer now, Tony can tell. His voice is nearer, and sometimes, somehow, Tony thinks he’s developed a way to feel when Steve’s close to him. As a large, comforting hand rests on his shoulder, Tony resists every urge to lean into the contact, the warmth and electricity he feels run through his body when they touch. “But my boyfriend hasn’t been answering his phone all day, hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and when I come to check on him, he ignores me,” Steve explains, and though his voice is soft, he sounds a little upset as well. “And that made me worried. So, to me, this is an emergency,” he finishes.

“I’ve been busy,” Tony says dismissively. “Suit upgrades.” He gestures vaguely at the metal scraps and various tools that are sprawled all across the worktable.

“It’s late, Tony. Come to bed,” Steve murmurs and hugs Tony from behind, laying his cheek on Tony’s shoulder. “Upgrades can wait.”

Tony huffs a laugh. “If it’s so late then why aren’t you in bed, huh?” Tony teases and smiles to himself. He’s already diverted from his work, confirming the theory that he can’t be close to Steve without losing every inch of concentration from his body.

“Can’t sleep without you,” Steve whispers and presses a kiss to Tony’s neck. He makes a surprised noise when his lips graze Tony’s skin and draws back, bringing a hand to Tony’s cheek.

“You’re burning up,” Steve announces worriedly. “Hey, look at me.”

And Tony can’t hold off the inevitable any longer. He spins his chair around, facing Steve with as much energy as he can muster. Which… isn’t a lot. His eyes are droopy and watery, and his nose looks as if it had been assaulted with scratchy tissues all day. It probably had.

Steve’s face drops immediately when he surveys Tony. His eyebrows draw together, mouth twisting in a way it only does when he’s worried.

“You’re sick,” he states blankly.

Tony shakes his head, but a cough decides to rattle through his chest at that very moment. “I’m okay,” he rasps, knowing he can’t fool Steve and instead tries to brush if off.

“Tony…” he breathes, and Tony hates how defeated, how concerned he sounds. “Why did you hide this from me?” He asks quietly, and Tony can almost hear how Steve’s brain is overthinking, contemplating every scenario that could have caused Tony to keep this secret from him; didn’t Tony trust him? Had he done anything wrong? Had he not paid enough attention to notice how sick his boyfriend is?

Tony needs to set things straight, to assure Steve that whatever senseless and foolish thoughts running through that mind of his are definitely not true. “I didn’t… I’m not,” Tony sighs, unable to complete an adequate sentence. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I didn’t want you to worry,” Tony confesses. “I’m a grown man, I can’t take care of myself.”

“Tony,” he says again. God, Tony wishes Steve would stop saying his name so gently, with so much love in his voice that it makes Tony’s eyes misty. The fever is undoubtedly making him more emotional. That’s what he tells himself, anyways.

“I don’t need you to babysit me, Steve.” It comes out harsher than Tony had intended it to, and he immediately wants to retract it when he sees the wounded look on Steve’s face. He sighs again. “I’m sorry, I just— I don’t want you to look at me like I’m this helpless, broken thing that needs fixing. I’m the one who’s supposed to fix things.”

The words tumble out of Tony’s mouth before he has a chance to filter them. But they’re true, Tony realizes. They’re true, and Tony’s so honest right in that moment. He wonders if it’s because Steve’s there, and Steve has this weird effect on him that makes him incapable of hiding how he feels. It’s the same thing that made Tony confess his feelings for him — he simply couldn’t keep them in any longer, and suddenly they just bursted out of him with no warning.

And now, without thinking about it, Tony admits this to himself as much as he does to Steve: he doesn’t want to be fixed, to be cared for in this way. He doesn’t deserve to be cared for. He’s the mechanic, he fixes things, he mends them, he makes good. Ever since he shut down the weapons manufacture that has been his goal. To help. And now, in this state of exhaustion and vulnerability, he can’ do that.

Tony suddenly feels like he can’t breathe.

“Hey…” Steve cups Tony’s face and strokes a thumb over his cheekbone. “I know you think you’re… unworthy of being cared for in this way, which kills me, because you deserve every ounce of love I possess, and it will forever be my goal to make this known to you… but you are the most generous person I’ve ever met. You help everyone you can and destroy yourself over those you can’t. I just wish you’d let me help you sometimes…”

The tears are now trailing down Tony’s cheek, running over Steve’s hand. It’s definitely because he’s tired and sick and not because Steve has just dejected every insecurity Tony hadn’t said out loud but had unconsciously carried on his shoulders.

At some point between Steve entering the workshop and now, the music had been turned off and for a moment, there’s silence. Tony isn’t looking at Steve, but he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, can picture how earnest and sincere and blue they are.

“Come to bed,” Steve says and Tony just nods and lets himself be enveloped in Steve’s arms.

Steve carries Tony to their bedroom, the genius clinging to the soldier like his life depended on it. Laying him down on the bed with care, Steve draws back and smooths a hand over Tony’s head.

The brunette looks up at him with a bleary expression on his face. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. His voice is even raspier now that he actually lets himself resign to being sick, succumbing to the symptoms.

“Shh. Don’t be,” he murmurs and smiles softly. “Get comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Tony nods and shreds his clothes, stripping down to his boxers and a white t-shirt, then shuffles under the blankets and closes his eyes. He probably would’ve fallen asleep right then, had a tickle in his nose not started growing stronger and stronger. He pushes his nose up against his wrist, but it doesn’t stop the tickle from wanting out. After a few useless nose rubs, his nose gives a tell-tale twitch, and he presses his face into his shoulder.

“h’ngxxtt! HNgx!” Stifling the sneezes makes his sinuses twinge and sends a throb through his skull, so when the tickle returns, he lets himself give into a stronger, fuller uhhETCH’oo! that gives him more relief. For the moment, at least.

“Bless you!” Steve calls, and a few seconds later he pads into the bedroom with a tray stacked with what Tony can identify as Kleenex, tea, fever-reducers, decongestants, and a glass of water. “Here,” he says as he places the tray on the nightstand, pulling out few tissues from the box and hands them to Tony.

Tony nods and folds them over his nose, leaning into another two forceful sneezes.

“uhhCHUSh’oo! snffSNFF! huh— uh! uh’CHUSH!”

“God bless you, sweetheart,” Steve winces. “How did you get so sick, hm?”

Tony is still snuffling into the tissues and doesn’t give any reply other than ducking his head shyly and looking over the edge of the tissue with fond eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve decides and smiles sweetly. “I’ll get you feeling better.”

#my fic #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #Thank you for all the prompts friends!!!#I’ve really enjoyed working on them these last few days #I have a few busy weeks coming #but send prompts and I’ll try to get to them #these tags are a mess #but I love my babies so much #🥺

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