#but hopefully there's enough new material that it's okay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

runningfrom2am · 9 months

Text

cold nights // part four

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!

series masterlist // playlist

"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.

"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.

"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"

"District Twelve, born and raised."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.

"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.

"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."

"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.

"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.

"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."

"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."

"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"

"Yes."

Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.

Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.

"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."

"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.

"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."

"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."

"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."

Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."

"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.

Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"

"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."

"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.

"Of course." You nod in understanding.

"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.

"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.

"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.

"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.

"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"

"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.

You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.

"So, uh, do you have a job?"

"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.

"Did you make your dress?" He asks.

"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."

He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.

"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."

Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.

"It's nice. I like it." He responds.

"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."

"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.

"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.

"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?

"Reading."

"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"

"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"

"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.

"Tybalt." You giggle.

"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.

He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."

"That's your favourite, I remember."

"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."

"That's clever. Very funny."

"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"

"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.

"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"

"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."

"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.

"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.

"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."

Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."

"Okay. I'll practice."

"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"

Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.

"That's okay. We'll figure it out."

That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.

As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.

"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"

"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."

"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.

"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.

"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."

He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"

"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."

"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.

"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.

"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."

"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.

"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"

"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"

"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."

"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."

"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.

"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."

Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.

Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.

"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."

You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."

Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.

You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.

"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.

"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination,

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas fic #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

448 notes · View notes

hysterotic · 3 months

Text

✩ 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶𝑲𝒀𝑶 𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑿 𝑭𝑬𝑴!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬 : horror erotica, campy/corny, comedy.

⚠︎ : vulgar language, drugs and alcohol, cabin party, lots and lots of sexual tension, get referred to as “new girl” a lot, cute little scene with kazutora, minor stalking, fluff, super corny, nothing bad happens, i took this chapter idea from bodies bodies bodies.

<3 𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 : baji keisuke, hanma shuji, kazutora hanemiya, tiny bit of mitsuya takashi.

𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑷 (𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻) | 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 | 𝑨𝑪𝑻 𝑰𝑰

it was late october, halloween weekend to be exact. it was cold and breezy but hopefully nothing that could stop you from wearing something skimpy to the trip—something emma would definitely suggest.

“ugh, not a single mini skirt in sight.. what are you, a nun?” emma teases as she rummages through your black hearteyed-skull print duffle bag. ignoring her, you continue to search your closet for the swimsuit you specifically bought for occasions like this that’s been collecting dust in your closet for months.

you pull out another swimsuit you had forgotten about, still cute nonetheless. turning to face her, before you can ask for her opinion, you notice emma’s new hair-do, almost dropping the swimsuits. “oh my god, you did your curls..”

she shakes her hair side to side making her curls bounce, “super cute no?”

“i can’t believe it..” you say, marveling at how gorgeous her curls look compared to her usual straightened hair.

“but super cute right? hurry up with the super cute ‘cause i’m getting insecure now.”

“no, no! it looks amazing. draken’s gonna lose it.”

she playfully twirls a curl around her finger. “i know.”

“okay, but which one? this black two piece or this red one with the skirt? don’t choose the black cause it’s sluttier.”

emma glares at you before grabbing the black two-piece and shoving it into your bag. “you’ll thank me for making you wear this, and if you’re lucky with keisuke… you might end up getting out of it.”

of course she would bring that up and feed into the little 1 week crush you had with keisuke baji, yeah he’s hot, whatever, but you never met him or seen him anywhere besides the only 3 photos she’s shown you, all you know about him is that he’s a scorpio. lately she wouldn’t stop bringing him up, especially since he’s coming to this trip.

you groan at the thought of emma treating this trip like it’s an episode of a dating show, “if you treat this trip like a setup. emma, i swear to god.” you sit down on your bed, watching emma going back and forth between your bag and your closet.

“i’m not pushing! calm down.. but we’re packing this.” she starts throwing clothes around as if she’s looking for something specific, pulling out the tiniest black skirt you own, “i bought this for you, how come i’ve never seen you wear it?”

“i just.. never got the chance” you lied.

“well now you do, which means there won’t be room for these.” she then heads toward the chair where your duffle bag is, throwing out your clothes with a thick-material without checking what it is, including your underwears that aren’t thongs.

she turns to you, holding your average looking underwear strap with a finger, “seriously? what’s the point in wearing underwear if your not gonna show it off.” she tugs on her baby blue thong straps that are sticking out of her low waisted jeans, making it snap on her hips. she then walks towards your closet and starts going though it again.

you stand up to put your clothes back in your bag. “just cause you’re gonna be wearing skimpy clothes this weekend doesn’t mean i should too.”

“uh, yes, you should,” she says matter-of-factly, her voice slightly muffled as she is nose-deep in your closet. “that’s like rule number one of girl code.”

“says who?” you respond, organizing your bag enough to fit more clothes, not realizing that someone is looming behind you to scare you, preparing to pull a prank.

“says me,” a muffled voice speaks from behind. you roll your eyes and turn around, expecting to see emma. Instead, you come face-to-face with a man wearing a ghostface mask.

you yelp in horror, stumbling backward and falling into a chair, which tips over. he scoffs in surprise, pulling the ghostface mask off, “shit, didn’t expect a reaction like that,” mikey says, sticking a hand out to help you up, clearly holding in a laugh. “thought I was the real thing?”

you glare at him and stand up on your own, pulling the chair and your bag up from the floor. “thought you were emma, actually.”

“emma? i sound like a girl to you?” his voice drops an octave, trying to sound more intimidating but really just coming off as overly dramatic.

emma, not realizing what just happened or who walked in, throws a thong your way for you to pack, which lands on mikey’s head. he turns to face where it came from and sees the thong string dangling in front of his eyes. he hums questioningly as he grabs it and starts to examine it.

you snatch it out of his hand and quickly shove it into your bag. “you shouldn’t joke around about this when he’s still active.” you grab the mask out of his hand and throw it on your bed, where it lands on top of a plushie, making it look like the toy is wearing it.

“you should get that stick out of your ass before we leave.” mikey points at you as he approaches your bed, picking up the plushie and removing the mask from its head.

“mikey, I’m serious!”

“oh, she’s serious. did you know that she’s serious?” he talks to the plushie, pointing a finger at you for emphasis.

“manjiro, give her back,” you deadpan.

“oh, it’s a her? huh… you mind?” he starts to playfully makeout with the plushie, clearly trying to piss you off even more.

“seriously, mikey, grow up!” you say, exasperated as you reach for the plushie, he holds it out of your reach.

emma finally looks over with a bunch of thongs and outfits in hand, noticing the commotion, “what’s going on here?”

“mikey’s being a jackass,” you say, crossing your arms.

“oh, nothing new then,” emma replies, she walks over and takes the plushie from mikey, throwing it back on your bed, “come on, we have to finish packing” she shoves the clothes on your chest, “once again, you’re gonna thank me.” you push it down your bag before mikey gets nosy again.

“thank her for what?” you hear a voice behind you say, from emma’s excited reaction and how her eyes sparkled at his sight, you take a good guess on who it is. you turn around, proving yourself right.

emma jumps into his arms, hugging him as if she hadn’t seen him a couple hours ago before coming here, she lets him go, standing still to let him admire her new curls. he furrows his brows in amusement as she runs her hand down his chest.

“hey, kinda seein’ this chick, she looks just like you, but with straight hair. i was thinking, y’know.. maybe we could-“

“you think i sound like a girl, ken?” mikey interrupts, standing in between the two wearing the ghostface mask.

draken clicks his tongue in irritation at mikey, not even looking at him. “you’re about to,” he mutters threateningly, his eyes rolling over to you. he looks down, noticing that you aren’t wearing any pants, sitting there in your lace lavender panties. “that’s what you’re wearing to our trip?” he says sarcastically, mikey following his gaze as well.

confused, you look down and realize that you are, in fact, not wearing any pants. “oh my god, get out! both of you!” you start to push draken and mikey out of the room, closing the door behind them.

through the door, you hear draken’s voice. “alright, but wrap it up quick, we gotta leave in a couple.”

emma snorts. “real smooth. now c’mon!” she shoves a couple more outfits she picked down your bag, winking at you. she finally grabs her bags and walks out of your room.

you quickly put on dark jean shorts with bedazzled back pockets in the shape of skulls, you slip your shoes on, zip your bag closed, and carry it on your shoulder. finally, you walk out of the house, finding them on the sidewalk, putting the bags in the van.

he places the 2nd bag emma packed in the far back of the van. “y’know, emma, it’s only a week, not an evacuation.”

she clings to his arm with a wide smile. “trust me when i say that there’s nothing in those cases you won’t be glad I brought.”

draken smirks at the thought as he picks up the 3rd one, “i’m shuttin’ right up.”

mikey grabs your bag off of your shoulder as he places it next to the rest. “that all?”

“yeah, i hope so,” you reply as you crawl into the van.

mikey hops in the passenger seat, emma crawls in the back. and draken finally finishes strapping up the bikes on the back of the van and gets in the driver’s seat last. the car finally pulls away from the spot, driving off towards the destination with a map in hand.

“there is a scourge in our society, my brothers and sisters, the evil that is heavy metal rock music is resolute, steadfast, and unwavering in its goal to corrupt our children’s souls.” the pastor’s eerie voice crackles through the old static-filled vintage tv behind the gas station register. the voice of the pastor is slow and deliberate as the white haired cashier was sat back, nodding at the screen.

you walk around the store with a strawberry-flavored sour lollipop in your mouth, your eyes subconsciously glued to the newspaper shelves all the way in the back. you stride towards them, grabbing the first one you see. the headline reads, “teens slain for satanic rituals on a forest campsite.”

of course you had to read that type of headline while on the way to a campsite, the perfect thing to top off your paranoia. you continue to read the headline, seeing the pictures of symbols that were carved into the victims flesh, evidence of the dark rituals that were placed in the camp, and the stories about the camp being haunted and how it haunts. the more you read the more your stomach churns, this isn’t helping your paranoia at all. then a terrifying detail lands in your eyes: it’s the exact camp location your on your way to, but they changed its name for this fucking reason.

“boo!” emma jumps in front of you, breaking your train of thought, you roll up the newspaper and swat at her. “fuck! you cunt,” you breathe out.

“damn, you’re so tense today,” she says, you furrow your brows, giving her a side-eye.

“ohh, yeah, totally not because we’re gonna be sleeping over at a cabin in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees, with barely any service, while a serial killer is still active. It’s not like this week is a horror movie adaptation waiting to happen,” you reply sarcastically as you stuff the rolled newspaper on your pocket, contemplating if you should tell her about this or not.

emma takes her time to chew on whatever’s in her mouth before responding. “see, thinking like that is just gonna make you paranoid. we’re supposed to have fun! it’s a halloween party, loosen up, maybe mikey was right about that stick in the ass thing.” she mumbles the last part as she grabs a couple of ultra beer bottles and walks over to the register, placing them on the counter.

“you see, these bands, with their shrieking guitars and pounding drums, do not merely entertain; they indoctrinate. they spread messages of rebellion against god, promoting the worship of evil and the destruction of morality. lyrics that speak of death, murder, destruction, and depravity are whispered into the ears of our youth, leading them down a dark path from which there is no return.” says the overdramatic pastor through the old tv.

it’s so ridiculous how people can’t wrap their heads around a serial killer just killing to kill, they always have to find something to blame it on. their favorite most of all is “metal music” and “satanism”, completely avoiding the fact that pastors can be just as worse as anybody else. ugh, so fucking corny. you roll your eyes at his nonsense blabbering as you grab a couple of snacks and place them on the register counter with emma’s, including the newspaper.

you pull out your lollipop with a pop! sound, “oh, and include whatever’s in her mouth,” you say, pointing at emma with your lollipop as she playfully starts to chew faster with her mouth shut, forcing the old guy to guess. he does nothing but stare at her, as if waiting for her to pull out the empty bag from her back pocket. she rolls her eyes, giving up on the fact that he’s not in the mood to fuck around, and places the empty bag of gushers on the counter.

“ID?” the cashier says with a gruff voice.

she blinks rapidly at him, “seriously?” emma asks. the cashier continues to silently stare at her with a deadpan expression. she turns toward you, and you shrug. “didn’t bring my wallet on this trip.”

“i’m gonna call over draken, wait here.” she walks out toward the gas pump where the rest of the guys are, leaving you alone with the creepy man, listening to the pastor’s gibberish through the tv screen,

“ghostface is not an isolated incident. he is the tragic, inevitable product of a society that has turned its back on the lord and embraced the wickedness of satanic music. parents, i implore you, cast out these demonic influences from your homes! break the CDs, delete the MP3s, and forbid your children from partaking in this unholy noise!” the pastor continues. the creepy cashier’s eyes bore into you so intensely, you kept your eyes on the door, waiting for emma and draken, ignoring the way he’s staring at you as if your who the pastor’s talking about—completely forgetting that you’re wearing a slipknot baby tee.

they finally walk in with mikey trailing behind. he quickly grabs a couple of snacks of his choice, while draken hands the man his ID. “how many packs of beer you got?”

“like two packs?” emma responds.

draken turns around and yells out for mikey. “mikey, grab two more packs of beer!”

mikey heads back to the fridge. emma leans against the counter, drumming her pink stiletto nails on the counter impatiently. the cashier, still watching the TV, mutters something under his breath something about the end times and the corruption of youth.

draken looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “you okay?”

you nod and hum in response, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that’s been gnawing at you since preparing for this trip, since you read that newspaper headline.

mikey returns with the beer, and the cashier rings up the total, still muttering to himself. as you all head out with bags in your hands. the pastor’s voice on the TV follows you, “heed my warning, close your doors and lock your windows. for the devil walks among us.”

“you’re so lying.” emma speaks with a slight muffle from her applying her pink lip gloss through her baby blue sparkly heart-shaped compact mirror.

“what?” you ask.

she snaps the mirror shut and turns to you, putting her lipgloss wand back in the tube screwing it in, “i said so you’re lying, you’re full of shit.” she says it slowly now, enunciating every word as if she’s talking to someone stupid.

“it’s literally written on a newspaper, how in the hell would i lie about that.”

emma grabs the newspaper and chucks it out of draken’s open window. “that is just something to scare the tourists with.” she starts rummaging through her makeup bag, grabbing a few touch-ups. crawling onto your lap, she hovers over your thighs to fix your makeup. “you’re just looking for excuses to pussy out because of that masked killer.” she opens the charlotte tilbury blush wand, tilts your chin up, and applies it to your cheeks.

you can see draken staring at you through the rearview mirror, noticing his brow furrowing in thought, but he remains silent, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“those incidents happened ages ago. the paper probably dug up some old story to scare people.” mikey adds as he crosses his arms behind his head, propping his feet on the dashboard.

“i think we should tell her.” draken interjects.

“tell me what?” you reply, your voice slightly muffled as emma puts lip tint on your lips while holding your chin still.

“she doesn’t know that it’s ghostface themed?” mikey blurts out from the passenger’s seat, causing everyone to groan.

you pull back from emma’s touch, frowning. “wait, what do you mean ghostface-themed?”

mikey sighs, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just a theme the guys thought would be fun, It’s no big deal.”

“not a big deal? you could have told me!” you exclaim, this trip’s is seriously sounding like a horror movie adaption waiting to happen, a lesson on what not to do when a serial killer is fucking active. “is that why you brought your little ghostface mask with you?” you look toward mikey, he attempts to calm you down with a laid-back smile.

“look, we didn’t wanna freak you out. but mikey’s right, it’s just a theme for the halloween party. we’ll be fine.” emma reassures. “if some old ghost story is the worst thing we have to worry about, I’d say we’re doing pretty good.”

“you sayin’ the camp might be haunted?” draken glances at emma. “it is.” you respond instead.

“i’m gettin’ a little freaked out now.” mikey mocks as he clutches draken’s bicep, he quickly shoves mikey from him, “don’t start.”

bikes line the sidewalk as they pull up to the camp, “this it?” draken leans his head down from the driver’s seat to get a better look at the sign.

while distracted he slams into an unknown bike. “shit, whose bike was that?” mikey winces.

“couldn’t recognize it.” draken mumbles as he parks the van, stepping out of it, his eyes scanning the row of bikes, “keisuke, kazutora and matsuno are here, mitsuya, pah-chin and peh-yan, the twins, the rest i dunno.”

you grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder. as you’re about to step out, draken extends his hand to help you and emma out of the van, giving him room to unload it.

“this place is.. something.” you shield your eyes from the sun as you check out the giant knife shaped sign on the entrance of the camp, it reads: “camp terror ridge.”

“i know, right? it’s gonna be killer.” emma bumps her shoulder against yours, a grin spreading across her face.

“guess so.” you twirl, taking in the forest surrounding it.

draken walks over, carrying emma’s bags with ease, his muscles flexing under the weight. “let’s get to the cabins.”

draken leads the way, towering over most of the campers as he carries emma’s bags. you maneuver through the crowd, red solo cups littered the floors that you almost trip over, dodging two shirtless curly haired guys who looked like twins, one with baby blue hair who seemed pissed and the other peach with a cheshire smile on his face, chasing each other.

as you reach the girls’ cabin, draken stops and sets emma’s bags down at the front door. the cabin looks cozy from the outside, with fairy lights hanging from the eaves. you tune out whatever’s draken saying to emma even though it could be important as you look around the camp.

you notice mikey talking to somebody, specifically. keisuke baji, and the two other guys standing next to him, the hot one with a wolf cut, highlighted with yellow-blonde on the top, and the other’s a cute blonde with an undercut.

you watch keisuke leaning against the tree with his arms crossed, his biceps unknowingly flexing. he was even hotter than those blurry photos, you couldn’t get your eyes off his arms until you notice his head cocking to the side, you glance up to him, meeting eyes with whiskey colored ones, fuck, he caught you staring at him. the undercut guy notices baji’s eyes on you and glances at you too.

then suddenly emma grabs your elbow and drags you inside the cabin with her, telling draken that we’ll see them in a couple, keisuke unfortunately disappears from your eyesight.

the floor creaks slightly underfoot. the air inside the cabin is cool and carries a faint scent of pine and aged wood. in the corner of your eyes, you see a row full of ghostface masks hung on the wall right next to the front door, is there seriously one each cabin?

the cabin is modest in size, with ten single beds lined up against the walls, arranged in five rows across each other, leaving a narrow aisle in the center for walking. each one with simple, black blankets and pillows. right next to the beds, there’s a small wooden nightstand with a soft nightlight on each one, looks like your gonna have that on for the night.

“Is that hina?” emma cuts in, pulling your attention towards the occupied bed with peach pink hair sticking out, takemichi, sitting by hina’s bed, suddenly stands up at the sight of you and emma. his face turns red with embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry!” he stammers, clearly ashamed to be caught in the girls’ cabin. “I was just checking on hina. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

you both approach it with emma beating you to it first, she gives him a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, takemichi.” she moves hina’s hair to the side, and touches her forehead. “you okay, hina?” emma whispers.

hina mumbles something incoherent that only emma hears. she turns to you, “she’s caught a cold from the lake,” she says, caressing hina’s hair softly. “hopefully you’ll be good by tomorrow. need me to bring you something hot?”

hina shakes her head, her eyes still closed. “It’s okay, yuzuha brought me soup.”

“yuzuha’s here?” you interject, “yeah, everybody’s here, they’re all at the lake right now.” takemichi replies instead. “okay then, rest up, i already miss you too much for you to be sleeping the whole week away.”

she then looks toward takemichi. “you gonna stay with her?” he immediately nods, sitting down beside hina. “if you guys don’t mind me being here..” he scratches the back of his neck, emma tosses her bag onto one of the beds. “we’d prefer that actually, make sure she eats, okay?” she then turns to you with a grin. “put on your swimsuit! we’re hittin’ the lake!”

you weave through the dense forest with emma following behind, the towering trees casting long shadows. the air is thick with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves, and the forest floor is a carpet of roots and fallen branches. making you regret leaving without slippers on. sunlight barely filters through, creating an eerie, twilight ambiance even though it’s still sunny.

“are we even going the right way?” emma asks as she glances around, trying to find any sign of the lake.

“i hope so,” you reply, the path seems to twist and turn endlessly, each direction looking almost identical to the last.

the sounds of the forest are all around you: the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of birds, and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot, it sounds peaceful in the mornings but eerie at night. you both continued forward, stepping over tangled roots and ducking under low-hanging branches, a couple scratched your arm but not deep enough for an infection.

“i swear we should have hit the lake by now,” emma mutters, stopping to catch her breath. “did we take a wrong turn?”

just as you’re about to agree, you hear footsteps from behind. you both turn, seeing somebody approaching, a lilac hair with a mullet cut. he lifts a branch out of the way, revealing another guy behind him, a blue haired buzz cut with some sort of spiral design on the side of his head and a scar on his lip, unlike the shirtless one he’s wearing an unbuttoned blue plaid shirt.

“lost your way to the lake?” the guy with the lilac hair questions with a smile, placing his hands on his hips. the one with blue hair hides behind him shyly, though it’s pretty hard to because of his height, his eyes darting between you and emma, careful not to look down at your bathing suits.

emma nods, “yeah, we followed the sign in the camp but the direction is so vague.”

“c’mon, we’re heading there.” he offers, nodding toward the path you and emma were originally heading to.

you and emma exchange a quick glance before deciding to follow them, mitsuya slows down his steps so you can keep up, giving him a chance to take a good look at you, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long, you kept your eyes forward pretending to not notice.

“you’re a new face.” he tilts his head to look at you better, or to put himself in your eyesight. you realize how gorgeous he is upclose, his eyebrow slits throwing you off because of his a soft looking face but it adds up so well, noticing the thick hoop earring with a cross on it on one of his ears, something you’d definitely wear too. just as you were about to introduce yourself, emma cuts in, “she’s my best friend, ken and mikey might’ve mentioned her a couple times.” she nudges you softly, giving you the chance to introduce yourself.

after you told him your name, a slight recognition clicked in his brain, “yeah, heard a thing or two. i’m mitsuya takashi, that one right there’s hakkai shiba, he’s a little shy when it comes to women.” the blue-haired guy remained silent the entire time, occasionally glancing at you and emma but quickly looking away when caught.

a faint sound catches your attention. straining to hear over the rustling of leaves. It’s the distinct sound of water splashing, accompanied by music, sounding like they’re playing “glamorous lifestyle” by the jacka, you all follow it, the music getting louder now.

when you finally reach the lake, you see the rest of the group already there. mitsuya turns to face you again before leaving, “see you ‘round.” definitely seeing him around.

the shoreline is dotted with towels and coolers full of the beer draken got earlier, in the corner of your eye you spot a blonde guy with baby blue highlights, and a tattoo on the right side of his back and chest, beginning from his nape and ending at his foot, you almost mistook him for a merman.

seeing that he’s hanging onto a rope from a tree, his feet kicks out as he swings towards the lake, letting go at the peak of the swing, plunging into the water with a loud splash that unfortunately hit another guy who was sunbathing, with the same tattoo mirrored on the left side of his body, he removes his now wet sunglasses from his eyes to shoot him a glare. he resurfaces, shaking the water from his hair mesmerizingly, so far your eyes are getting very spoiled today.

nearby, a couple of guys are in a rowboat, paddling lazily. suddenly, someone emerges from beneath the water—senju—and pushes the boat down, causing it to tip precariously and the guys to scramble.

you notice yuzuha approaching you both, shielding her eyes from the sun and runs towards you, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight wet hug, indicating that she was swimming before. “you made it!” she squeezes, a couple guys walk past jokingly muttering a “damn what about me.” nevermind, eyes no longer spoiled. yuzuha shoots them a quick glare.

you scan her swimsuit noticing that she’s wearing a sheer top above. wishing that you brought similar with you before walking here. you cross your arms, feeling a little too exposed now, your anxiety grows even more as emma and yuzuha drag you toward the deck, already feeling more eyes on you, “i’m gonna grab a drink, want some?” yuzuha offers, you nod in response, “no alcohol please.” she approaches the cooler, grabbing lemonade cans and pours them on a cup, handing one to you and emma, taking a sip.

“you got stopped by the cops coming here?” draken questions the guys.

“yeah, he was creepy as hell,” says a blonde with an undercut, the same guy who was standing next to keisuke baji, sitting on a donut shaped float. “he went on about making us go to this weird motel before coming here.”

“pretty sure he thought we were some thugs on our way to trash this place or whatever,” the same guy from earlier with yellow-blonde streaks on his hair throws in, swimming closer to the deck, placing his hands up to push himself out of the water. he walks towards the cooler to grab a beer, which happens to be next to you, you step aside, noticing a tiger tattoo on his neck, and a cute mole on the left side of his cheek.

“think he alerted cops patrolling the motel for us?” asks the blonde with an undercut.

“you saying you could’ve gotten ambushed there?” draken questions.

the guy with the undercut shrugs in response.

you finally spot keisuke baji up close now, wearing nothing but black shorts, with lesserof2evils jewelry from head to toe. silver rings glint on his fingers, and a thick cross hangs from his neck, glimmering in the sun. he approaches draken, beer in hand. with a practiced motion, he pops it open with his canines.

“he was real anxious, sweatin’ his ass off when he kept naggin’ us not to go to the camp,” baji says, taking a swig of his beer, his eyes then land on you.

“almost as nervous as the girl.” the guy with the tiger tattoo continues, pointing at you with his beer bottle and crossing his arms, his bottle clinks with baji’s, their eyes roaming over you with a shared thought, “who’s this minx?” the tiger tatted man asks.

their sudden attention makes you feel like a spotlight is on you, a deer in headlights. you instinctively tighten your arms around yourself, trying to make yourself smaller. your presence too acknowledged that it becomes overwhelming until you feel someone wrap their arm around your shoulder.

you turn to see mikey, who loudly introduces you to everyone, gesturing toward each person as he says their name. they either wave or smile at you until he reaches baji, who simply scans you from head to toe and takes a sip of his beer, keeping his hungry looking eyes locked on yours, he can’t be staring like that shirtless right now.

“someone’s thirsty.” emma mumbles, holding a cup up to her mouth to mask her lips.

“anyway, she’s a friend of emma and yuzuha, and mine too. so be nice to her, alright?” mikey’s tone makes you feel like a kid, but his reassuring squeeze on your shoulder helps ease your anxiety a bit, he walks away, unknowingly giving baji a free pass to approach you, his expression more curious than hostile, but his intense gaze makes it hard to tell, god he looks so mean.

“how’d you end up with this lot?” he asks, nodding toward mikey and the others.

“oh, um.. long story,” you reply with a chuckle, squeezing your arms out of nervousness. baji seems to pick up on your discomfort and steps a bit closer, his presence making you feel even smaller.

“got a whole week to hear it.” he says, looming over you.

before you can respond, kazutora jumps in, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “you scarin’ the new girl already baji?”

he takes another swig of his beer, turning to kazutora, “just curious about the new face.” he says, then turns back to you, his dark brows lowered with attentiveness. “that’s all.”

“right.“ kazutora slides his hand down your arm and grabs your wrist, pulling you toward the edge of the deck. “swim with me?” his steps quicken, and he suddenly drags you into the water with him.

your body goes into shock from the freezing cold water. you quickly resurface, gasping. “holy fuck! that is the coldest, cold water.” you breathe out, swimming closer to chifuyu’s float. you cling to it, looking up at him apologetically, he smiles down at you with reassurance.

“yeah, how cold? Is it worth deactivating my curls?” emma asks as she gets closer to the deck, bending down to speak to you.

draken, sits on the deck next to mitsuya. “c’mon, emma, jump with ‘em.” he splashes her with water, but it only hits her legs. she backs away, bumping into mikey.

“yeah, i might just lie out in the sun for a while instead.” she says, scrunching up her curls.

“hey, what is that?” mikey points far out at the lake as if he saw a crocodile, or worse, a body? in sync, you all turn to look at what he’s pointing at.

“what? where?” chifuyu asks, kicking his float closer to the deck, you continue to cling to his float, wrapping your arms around the donut, looking around frantically for unknown ripples in the lake.

“in the lake right there…” mikey insists, his eyes blown wide.

“c’mon mikey, don’t fuck around,” kazutora says nervously as he swims closer to the deck.

“guys, i’m serious, it’s right there,” his voice dropping an octave to convey urgency. emma starts to cling to him nervously.

“it looks … just like emma!” mikey suddenly shouts, pushing her into the lake without warning.

a big splash of her body hitting the water sprays on all of you, she resurfaces, gasping for air. “oh my god!” emma screams, you can’t tell if it’s because the water is freezing or because her curls are ruined, you hold back your laughter as you swim towards her, she clings to you desperately.

he laughs at her hysterically, then points at the lake again. “there’s somethin’ else in the lake!” he quickly jumps in right next to you two and drags emma down with him.

she then resurfaces again, pushing her hair back and glaring at mikey. “you jerk!” she yells, then lunges at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “you think you’re so funny, huh?” she tries to dunk him under the water, both of them splashing wildly as they struggle.

you giggle at them both trying to drown each other, though you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. glancing around, you meet keisuke’s intense stare again. he stands slightly apart from the group, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression.

then you see a towering figure behind him, a man with slicked-back black hair, adorned a single blonde streak in the front, walking up behind keisuke, slapping his seemingly tatted hands on baji’s shoulders and shaking him from behind. he notices baji’s gaze lingering on someone, following it, his purple eyes lands toward you. he then whispers something in baji’s ear, causing him to push his tongue against his cheek to stifle a laugh as he nudges his beer towards hanma.

mitsuya, on the other hand, whispers something to draken, his eyes locked on you throughout. whatever mitsuya said made draken glance in your direction.

you’d think you’re a circus freak from the way they’re attention is on you, confused and a bit overwhelmed, you decide to swim a bit farther away from the group. enjoying the cool water and the brief solitude. emma follows closely behind submerged under the water. just as you start to relax, she grabs your leg, causing you to jump.

she resurfaces, “careful, swim too far and you might land on a body in the water.”

you splash her with water, laughing. “yeah? that gonna be yours when i’m done with you?”

“oh piss off!”

the thumping bass of a live DJ—who you found out was rindou haitani, one of the hosts of this camp party—pounds through your chest as you walk into the entryway of cabin 13. it was the biggest cabin in the camp, where everybody goes to hangout whenever they don’t wanna sleep yet. it has two stories, the top floor only providing a view of the balcony. surprised that he had managed to keep the music loud, considering the majority of people were already asleep since it was midnight.

the place reeked of stale beer and lingering smoke, ghostface masks scattered around the couches and the tables, you notice mikey and takemichi with a couple other guys lounging on the couch, passing around a bong, mikey laughing at takemichi for not being able to inhale without violently coughing. the scent almost lures you in but you don’t wanna smoke weed, not yet.

instead looking to emma who was sitting on the kitchen counter chatting with draken. she wore a white mini pencil skirt with a sleeveless black turtleneck. her eyes slowly move away from draken to look at who entered. she sees you, smiling immediately and motions for you to come over with her hands, making draken turn to see who she was motioning to.

emma hops down from the counter and grabs a bottle of malibu. “It’s already midnight, and the fact that you don’t have a single drop of alcohol in your system is just insane,” she says, grinning mischievously. she grabs your jaw and tilts your chin up,

“on my way here i saw a tall thin silhouette of somebody in the woods, no joke.” you spoke, face pressed against emma’s hand, she squeezes your jaw gently as if telling you to open your mouth, and you do just that. “that was probably a skinwalker.” draken responds with a smirk, knowing that you’re about to punch his ribs for saying it’s name, you did just that too, he backs away laughing.

emma pours the rum into your mouth, letting out a soft woo at how quick you were to swallow it, hearing draken whistle at you for encouragement to keep going, feeling the cold, sweet, coconut flavored liquor slide down your throat. you start slapping emma’s arm, realizing that you drank a little too much. she finally moves the rum away from your lips, placing it back on the counter, you wipe the bottom of your lip as you feel familiar eyes on you.

you instinctively glance where the pool table was. at the back of the cabin, you spot keisuke baji playing with hanma, chifuyu and mitsuya, holding the cue. the way he was looking at you seemed curious, his eyes lingering over your face and down at your body, as much as you didn’t wanna wear anything skimpy for this trip, you liked keisuke’s eyes lingering on your body a little too much to pass up the opportunity.

you were wearing a black lace bustier iamgia top with front strap above the sweetheart shaped neckline that are pushing your tits up so perfectly, paired with a black mini skirt with two bow ribbons on the sides. he then looks at the pool table, it’s his turn now. you watch him hover against the pool table, making you weak in the knees.

you chew on the bottom of your lips, watching baji line up his sight, aiming it carefully at the cue ball, he draws the cue back, with a sharp crack, the cue ball darts forward. at the corners of your eyes you see somebody with blonde hair, forming words at you, your eyes slide over, seeing glittery pink lips opening and forming words, oh fuck. forming words, emma was talking to you this entire time and all you did was ogle at the long haired hunk around the pool table.

“sorry, what?” emma rolls her eyes, she knew you were drooling over keisuke but brushes it off because she got something else in her mind right now. “draken and i are gonna go smoke, you still got the zip in your bag?”

“yeah, just don’t finish it.” you brush her off quickly, leaning against the counter, eyes sliding back to keisuke baji, watching him light up a cigarette. emma and draken walk past you hand in hand, heading out of the cabin.

you don’t know what’s gotten into you exactly, maybe it’s the liquor, maybe it’s the constant eye-fucking you’ve been having with him all day today that’s driving you crazy, but something within you kept urging you to approach the pool table right now, you don’t even know how to play fucking pool. you straighten your posture and stride towards the pool table, subconsciously adding an extra sway to your hips as you go.

you can see the exact moment hanma spots you, he stops talking to keisuke and slides his eyes all over you with a smirk, keisuke following his gaze.

“you know how to play this, new girl?” hanma says with a neutral face, chifuyu raises his head to nod slightly at you with a polite smile as he gets back into focusing on the cue, you nod back, ignoring baji, who’s eyes bore into you, holding the cancer stick as smoke curl out of his lips.

“not really, i suck at it.” you lean against the pool table near baji, keeping a good distance. watching the cue ball darting forward from chifuyu’s motion, clipping the 9-ball, sending it rolling into the corner pocket.

“show us, can’t be that bad.” mitsuya strides closer to you, handing you his cue. both hanma and baji stand behind you as you position yourself, bending over the pool table. one hand grips the end of the cue, and the other holds the tip on the table. you hear them hold in a laugh and snort at your awkward position. rolling your eyes, you turn toward them, cocking your head to the side and narrowing your eyes. “you guys gonna help me or am i here to be made fun of?”

“nah, I’ll help you.” hanma strides over, placing his cue on the table and positions himself behind you, placing his hands between you and pinning you in place. jesus christ he’s so tall. you go back into the same position again. “that’s too high, new girl.” he takes your hand and moves it down the cue just a little bit, holding your waist and angling your sight on the cue ball better.

“you’re sabotaging her like that,” keisuke mutters, the cigarette bobbing as he speaks.

“no, I’m not. that’s a perfect score,” hanma insists.

“perfect my fuckin’ ass. here’s how you do it, new girl! come here.” keisuke points to a spot in front of him on the other side of the table with his chin, you stride over, and he quickly puts you in position, his hand on yours as he angles you toward the cue ball.

“you know how to hit it right?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “no.” you kept your answer quick and short, cause if you spoke any more you’ll accidentally moan, getting drunk on his manly scent mixed with his cigarette, a small hint of coconut from the sunscreen he had on the lake, feeling his cold cross necklace dangling on your back, hoping your not obviously blushing right now. he sighs and adjusts his grip on the cue where your hand is, guiding you as he draws the cue back and strikes the ball. the cue ball glides smoothly, and several balls roll into the corner pockets.

keisuke straightens up from you, pretending as if nothing happened, smirking cockily at hanma. hanma flips him off with a grin.

“think you got the hang of it?” mitsuya asks, leaning his chin against the cue propped up on the floor.

“I think so.” you reply, starting to get confident now. shaking off the earlier interaction with keisuke, you focus on the game. lining up your shot, you strike the cue ball, sending it smoothly across the table, hitting another ball getting it close enough to the corner pocket, damn it.

keisuke walks to the other side, his eyes calculating. he ties his hair up, a few strands falling perfectly on his face as he gets serious, you watch him play. yeah, playing with them was a mistake cause now you can’t focus anymore.

It’s hanma’s turn now. he slicks his hair back with his “punishment” hand and lines up his shot, he pockets a ball in the corner smoothly.

you notice keisuke’s brow quirk up at hanma’s move, slightly impressed. hanma then moves closer to keisuke, taking a drag from the cigarette still held between keisuke’s fingers. he remains focused on the table as mitsuya takes his turn.

what. a. sight.

distracted with drooling over the guys, you notice that the pool table has no balls left, “another game?” hanma proposes.

keisuke exhales the smoke. “yeah, seems unfair to the new girl,” he mocks, his tone teasing, is new girl seriously you’re name now? you sigh, getting a slight whiff of the weed the guys had earlier, a joint sounds so good right now. “yeah, okay, but i gotta go wash up, know a restroom nearby?” the bathroom excuse was a bit unnecessary, but you need to get your mind off of this, stat. mitsuya responds, nodding his head toward the back of the cabin. “yeah, there’s one outside from behind.”

you step out, walking towards the girls’ cabin, carefully opening the door to avoid waking anyone. sneaking to your duffel bag, you search for your stash, only to realize emma has taken it. fuck, she better not have finished it all. you exit quietly, heading towards the boys’ cabin where you find emma lounging next to draken, chatting casually as if there aren’t any guys asleep around them, but who are they to defy draken and his time with his girl?

you approach them, emma spotting you, “oh, heyyy, whatcha doin’ here.” she giggles, clearly stoned, you cross your arms. “where’s my stuff?” you ask, emma’s mouth forms into an “o” with a guilty look on her face. “oops.. we may or may not have smoked it all.”

“you kidding me? it was more than enough for a week!”

“noooo, it wasn’t, don’t know how you smoke your shit but it wasn’t nearly enough for a week.” she shakes her head.

“ugh, whatever.” you mutter, walking away from them, their laughter trailing behind you.

now you actually want to go to the bathroom. you turn to where mitsuya directed behind cabin 13, finding nothing but a shed sitting in between the forest trees, confused but still approaching it. you turn the door handle, walking into kazutora, looking like he’s snorting something on the countertop. he glances up to see who walked in, before he could react, you quickly apologize, “oh, shit! sorry!” you shut the door, leaning against it.

was he doing coke? he was doing coke, but alone in the bathroom countertop? you start consider if you should do coke with him instead, chewing on your bottom lip as you ponder around that idea. you open the door on him again, finding the countertop clean, spotless even.

you lean against the door frame, raising a brow, narrowing your eyes on him. “what were you doing?” kazutora—guilt written all over his face, gulps. his expression quickly changes back to being nonchalant once he realizes that he’s already caught in the act. he leans back against the countertop, crossing his arms. “what’s it look like i was doing?” he replies sarcastically.

a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you walk in, shutting the door behind you and locking it, you shut the toilet cover, sitting on it. “i won’t tell if you won’t.”

kazutora raises a brow at your response, a sly grin spreading across his face. “you’re full of surprises, new girl. what’s in it for me if i keep quiet?”

you roll your eyes as if he asked a stupid question. “you’re clearly hiding from somebody if you’re snorting coke in this disgusting dump.” you kick the bath mat that was once white but now stained with muddy shoe prints, you do a ‘my lips are sealed’ motion with your hand as you point at his pocket with your eyes.

you catch his smirk twitch at the corner of his lips as he listens to your observation, you’re smarter than he gave you credit for. he looks down at the dirty bath mat, stuffing his hand in his pocket as he thought for a minute. “alright.” he pulls out a small baggie with a bit of white powder in it.

“got your phone with you?” he asks, you stuff your hand in your skirt pocket, pulling out your phone to use as a surface, a makeshift black mirror. kazutora sits down on the bathroom floor in front of you and lines up the powder with a motel ad card, grabbing a straw he cut out from the drinks and leaning down over the phone, he holds one nostril closed, “done this before?” he asks before inhaling sharply.

“in highschool, haven’t since then.” you have never seen somebody look this hot snorting cocaine, and yet here you are, watching him snap his head back, sniffing frequently. he knocks his head back straight, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes, moistening his lips and biting it. he then starts to line up the rest for you, handing you the straw, “all yours.” he says, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. he leans against the wall, his eyes now fixed on you.

you hesitantly grab the straw, looking down at the white powder lined perfectly over your phone, staring at the reflection in the back of it. you don’t even know why your hesitating, there’s something nagging in your subconscious telling you to not snort it, telling you not right now. and still you ignore it, knowing you shouldn’t but the dilated sandy colored eyes are staring at you too intensely that you can’t pussy out now. you hold one nostril closed and line the straw from your nose to the powder, inhaling it quick. okay, regret.

“fuck.” you grimace, snapping your head back, blinking rapidly as your eyes water, instinctively rubbing your nose as you try to stifle a sneeze. your heart starts to race. kazutora let’s out a deep chuckle, noticing your discomfort, “gets better.” he swipes the rest of the powder with his finger and rubs it on his gums. you slide down from the toilet seat onto the floor and lean against it, placing your legs on top of his thigh for comfort.

you start to pant, breathing manually now, kazutora observes you with his head slightly tilted, his earring jingles softly. eyes roaming down your body to your soft legs, his senses now heightened, noticing the addictive cocoa butter smell on your legs, he slowly places his hands on your calves, caressing it gently, testing the waters.

“how’re you feeling?” he asks as he massages your calves softly, making you to focus on that sensation more than the rapid beating of your heart, you take your time to answer, you can’t really tell if you’re enjoying this or freaking out right now, but whatever’s he’s doing to your legs should not stop. you nod slowly, sinking down, your other leg curling up to shyly hide your face from his gaze, he slides his hands up to your thigh, spreading your legs open. “let me look at you.” he rasps, the sound of his voice activating something within you that you have been trying to get rid of since the pool game with keisuke.

you let out a soft giggle as his heavy-lidded gaze lingers over your eyes, lips and down to your skirt that you forgot your wearing, the position your in giving him a good view on your panties.

“gotta take care of you, right?” he slowly leans closer to you, resting his chin on your knees, softly kissing it, his lips hover down your knee to your thighs, kissing a little too close to where you need him to be right now. you run your fingers through his hair, softly dragging your black stiletto nails on the back of his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes almost black from how dilated they are. he leans closer to your face, hovering over your lips, just as he’s leaning to kiss you, the bathroom lights flickers then plunges into darkness, hearing the guys yelling over at cabin 13.

my luck. you feel kazutora’s forehead press against your knee and sigh, clicking his tongue in irritation. you lean your head back against the toilet cover, looking up at the ceiling—nothingness really—hearing a commotion going on outside, though kazutora shows no signs of getting up, you nudge your leg at him softly. “let’s check out what happened.” you feel him hesitate for a bit, then he shuffles around, from under your legs you feel his pants adjust, you hold back a giggle. he pushes himself up. “here.” he reaches for your hand, and pulls you up.

kazutora opens the bathroom door, seeing the camp in complete blackout, surrounded by nothing but darkness with the only light source being a couple of iphone flashlights, the glowstick necklaces on mikey, rindou and emma, and the moon. you fumble for your phone, turning the flashlight on.

in the center of the camp, you saw a circle formed around rindou, who’s trying to get a signal on his phone to call the cabin owners about the power outage. keisuke stands around with his arms crossed, his gaze sharp as he notices kazutora walking out the bathroom with you trailing behind.

“where were you?” emma rushes toward your side, “oh, uh, bathroom, what’s going on?” you ask. keisuke cuts in, “what were you two doing in the bathroom for so long?” keisuke observes kazutora’s reaction to his question, already catching him trying to make up a lie in his head, you quickly step in, “i asked him to wait for me outside, i got scared earlier by something in the woods and didn’t wanna be alone.”

kazutora looks at you gratefully for covering for him, then turns to keisuke with an innocent smile. keisuke, however, isn’t easily convinced. “could’ve asked me or mitsuya, or any of the guys that were around you before.” he says, his tone slightly reproachful.

“I didn’t want to bother you guys while you were playing pool,” you explain.

“but you didn’t mind botherin’ kazutora?” keisuke’s eyes narrow at you, fuck he’s sharp.

before you can respond, the group calls for everyone’s help with the generator issue. keisuke gives you both a lingering look before heading towards the others. you exchange a knowing glance with kazutora and emma before following suit, she nudges at your shoulder. “i’ll tell you back at the cabin.” you whisper.

after a long walk in the woods looking for the generator, you join the group clustered around the it. emma stands beside you, wrapping her arms around yours, leaning her cheek against your shoulder tiredly. rindou flashes the light for draken to fix the generator, watching them argue and try to diagnose why the power has gone out. they twist knobs, check connections, and mutter to each other as they attempt to revive the generator. you subconsciously kept your eyes around the forest, getting paranoid, it’s a little too dark for your comfort, either that or you’re just very coked out right now.

draken leans back, “the problem isn’t from the generator, it’s the whole area.”

“cell towers too?” rindou queried, shining the light towards draken’s face, he swats it away from his eyes, “if there’s no bars in your phone then yeah, cell towers too.”

“they doing maintenance on it or what?” rindou pressed.

“does it fuckin’ look like i know what they’re doing to the cell towers right now?” draken retorted.

as the guys continued bickering about the generator you couldn’t shake the random shiver that ran down your spine, you turn to scan around the forest, looking in between the trees and tuning their voices out to try to listen to anything out of the ordinary. you spot a tree with a weird shape, as if there’s a black silhouette behind it, watching you.

“what’s up?” emma notices your attention elsewhere, following your gaze. you blink, watching the silhouette disappear and the sound of tree branches on the floor breaking as if somebody or something is stepping on them. “alright, can you guys wrap this up quick so we can get to the cabin?”

“getting scared, new girl?” hanma teases. “yes, yes i am, so can we please get to the cabin,” you start to walk briskly towards cabin 13, actually breaking into a run. you push open the creaking wooden doors and immediately turn on the flashlight, setting it on the kitchen counter to illuminate the rest of the cabin. the others follow suit. rindou making his way to his DJ set, spinning it and playing with the buttons with a bored expression on his face as the rest of the guys sit on the couch.

“what’s gotten you so scared?” chifuyu asks you, concerned.

“i don’t know. i just didn’t like being out there. It’s too damn dark,” you explain, making room for emma to join you on the couch, sitting close.

“you scared of the dark?” keisuke mocks, sitting across from you and leaning back with an amused expression.

“yeah, i am,” you reply, already growing irritated.

“keisuke, that’s hypocritical,” mikey interjects, throwing whatever’s near him at keisuke, which happens to be a ghostface mask.

he dodges it smoothly, “if you’re gonna bring up that one time, we were kids,” keisuke retorts defensively.

draken and kazutora chuckle, clearly remembering the incident. “fuck you two laughin’ at?” keisuke shoots back. “if anybody’s scared of the dark it’s chifuyu.”

“how did i get dragged into this?!” chifuyu protests. in the corner of your eyes you see rindou suddenly appearing near the couch, picking up a ghostface mask. a slight mischievous smirk plays at his lips as he turns towards the group. “silence!” he suddenly yells, grabbing everyone’s attention. “who wants to play bodies bodies bodies?”

#☠︎︎. she’s a horror #all ima say is that i listened to escape the fate while writing this #it’s 8 am and i haven’t slept yet.#goodnight guys #tokyo revengers #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader #hanma shuji #mitsuya takashi #ken ryuguji #manjiro sano #chifuyu matsuno #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora hanemiya x reader #rindou haitani #rindou haitani x reader

322 notes · View notes

foreverisntenough · 5 months

Text

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

Index:

Chapter 1 - Size of A Plum

Chapter 2 - With a ‘U’ or an ‘O’

Chapter 3 - Auntie Laur and A Very Drunk Boy

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 4 - Baby Dior | ‘Ours’

“Thank you for coming over for dinner tonight. If you came from 7 hours away or 7 minutes away, Y/N and I really appreciate it. Erm… we do have some news we wanted to share with our all, our families.” Trent smiled and looked at you. You squeezed his arm reassuring him that you were okay. “We've been discussing this for some time, so we’re absolutely buzzing…” he paused and looked at you again offering you the moment.

“So yeah, this… erm, sorry a little nervous.” You quivered, shaking some. Trent pressed a kiss to your forehead whispering to you that everything was okay. You watched Marcel’s eyebrows raise interested, your sister's cheeks rose from a smile of anticipation, Tyler leaning forward in his chair, your dad leaning back in his. You watched as a caterer placed a little white box in front of everyone’s seat. The whole table inspected the plain carton in front of them. “So, if you wouldn’t mind opening up the little boxes in front of each of you. Hopefully, you’ll be excited with us come this Fall as we are…” you paused. You could hear the thick material of the boxes being plied open over the muffled music outside. Then you heard the first breath get sucked in from your mum. “We are expecting a baby!” You got out fairly confidently. Collectively there were a lot of gasps and ‘oh my gods.’ You giggled a little as Trent held you closer in support. In each box there were respective things for each person pertaining to their role in your baby’s life i.e being an uncle, a grandmother, an aunt. With the little gifts was also the ultrasound. On each one you had written a little blurb.

‘Baby Girl Alexander-Arnold coming this Fall!’

In Marcel’s box you felt the need to include a little white sticky note on the photo as well.

‘Yes, this was planned’

It was cheeky and it made him smile that you knew him well enough to know he’d be a little taken aback by all this coming at him. Dianne thought she was going to have a heart attack. She grabbed your mum's hand and your mum was in the same boat.

“A baby girl!” She yelled astonished, standing up. She ran over to you first. She gave you the tightest hug you’ve ever been given before she released you to give possibly a tighter one to Trent. You picked your head up to see everyone impatiently waiting to say congratulations asking a million questions but your dad caught your eye. He was at the end of the table unmoved with tears in his eyes. You got up and squeezed Trent’s shoulder before walking over to him. You crouched next to his chair and put your hand on his arm.

“Oh, dad… ” you whispered sympathetically . Your mum walked around you placing a kiss on your cheek before going over to Trent. She wanted you to have your moment alone with your dad. You had such a special bond with him. Your whole family was close but this was really different from your relationships with your mum and sister. You were so similar. You learned with him, you explored the world with him. He was your best friend, your role model, the first man you truly loved with your whole heart and in a twist of fate and the heat of one summer he in a way brought you to Trent. Without him you would’ve never known those big brown eyes on 78th Street.

“I’m so proud of the women you’ve grown up to be. So incredibly kind and loving. You’ll be the most amazing mother to a very lucky girl.” Tears started to fill your eyes as he spoke quietly only to you. He wiped away his own before he did yours. His approval was all you ever wanted. He gave you everything you could ever want in a life, in a backwards way he introduced you to Trent. He was the best parent you could ask for and unknowingly also a wingman. The fact that you were about to embark on your own parental journey was surreal.

“She’ll be lucky to have the most amazing grandad too.” You cooed leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll have myself an official born and bred Red now I suppose.” He joked. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he picked himself up from his seat to go give Trent a hug and you followed.

“Congratulations, honestly. I couldn’t be happier for you two. It’s so important that you have each other on this journey.” You could feel your dad shifting into a mode you knew well. One where he was speaking vaguely before diving into something he had been harboring. “I’d like to request that my visits to see my granddaughter will be at Anfield.” He joked and gripped Trent’s shoulder in a way that made you quickly squeeze his opposite arms hand.

“Trent, come here a minute.” You heard your dad say it and you got nervous for Trent you couldn’t imagine what he was possibly feeling. Trent went over and your dad wrapped his arm around his shoulder and they walked off away from your families. You were in a conversation with your mum and Dianne but mentally you were somewhere else trying to read Trent’s lips and monitor your dad’s body language.

“Do not want to be in that discussion.” Marcel quipped seeing Trent’s face fall into a more serious mold. He was sitting with Tyler and your sister trying to eavesdrop.

“Yeah impregnating his daughter isn’t exactly the best way to win a dad over is it?” Your sister laughed also starting to watch their conversation closely.

“Nah it’s not.” Tyler laughed. “Trenty can hold his own though he’s got the prem trophy on his side. Your dad can’t forget that.” Tyler sarcastically but maybe seriously commented, your sister couldn’t tell. Their conversation lulled to only small comments about what they thought they overheard.

“I trust you wholeheartedly on the pitch every weekend. I’d like to think I can trust you just the same with my daughter and my granddaughter every day of their lives.” Your dad spoke sternly towards Trent looking over his shoulder at you caressing your belly. You looked beautiful and healthy. He meant what he said earlier. He was so proud of you. He wanted to threaten Trent. Scare him. As kind and humorous as your dad was, he definitely had a fire that made him absolutely terrifying. Like the man you’d see at the pub you wouldn’t want to piss off. Trent was polite and considerate listening intently hanging into every word your dad said. He couldn’t exactly understand the emotion though. He watched your dad rant about how special you were and Trent agreed but it was a slightly different form of affection. Trent was wrapping his head around the fact that he was going to be a dad, that he would have a daughter, that he would have this conversation someday. Trent swore, promised, vowed he would take care of you and your babygirl and also in true form, never without some humor your dad also insisted Trent promised England would win the next World Cup. Your dad believed him about taking care of you and only partially about the World Cup. They returned to the party, your dad more at ease, Trent more on edge.

Your house was so full for the rest of the week. Your mum began helping start the nursery, your sister and you in fits of giggles trying to sort out how to dress for the upcoming match of Trent’s you were going to in Spain, your dad and Trent watching the remainder of other leagues seasons. Suddenly their 4 day stay was over, the house was quiet, it was strange to have your family there one day and gone the next. You didn’t realize how much you missed them, especially your sister. You made a promise you’d be better about seeing each other in person more.

After your family left there was only about a week and half until you were flying with Marcel to the Champions League Final in Madrid. This very well could be the year Trent and Liverpool won the treble; The English Premier League, The FA Cup, and after this 90 odd minutes, The Champions League. You arrived at the stadium. It was bustling. It was busy, nosy, everything you didn’t want to experience thrust into one place; large men pushing around, alcohol everywhere, smoke and flares in the air. It wasn’t ideal but there was nowhere else you wanted to be. If you weren’t months into a pregnancy the atmosphere would be exciting, almost beautiful in the way it energized the air. Trent had won this before but there was no problem with winning it again. Liverpool was playing AC Milan and it was bound to be a good game. You and Marcel weaved your way up to your concourse. Since Marcel found out you were pregnant he had been almost as protective as Trent. You weren’t sure that was possible but he was a close number 2. The joke that you spent more time with him probably was more true than you’d like to admit. He had become one of your best friends in England. He was like a little brother, as much as you loved to razz the other or pick fights, you loved him unconditionally and vise versa. He would do anything to keep you safe. He kept his arm around you as you made your way up to a box. Eventually the rest of the Alexander-Arnold camp arrived and you mingled around while a few people you hadn’t seen in a while congratulated you quietly about your pregnancy, unsure if that was something you were doing yet . Trent’s manager found out fairly early right after your families knew but you hadn’t seen him in person since he found out. You sat up in a box tucked away from the crowds and as a surprise to you about 5 minutes before kick off, in walked a friendly familiar face who was ecstatic to see you. Jude had snuck into the stadium incognito in hopes of not drawing attention to himself. So far he had managed the task well.

“C’mere, Mum!” He cheekily cooed, not as quiet as you would’ve liked, pulling you into a hug. You squeezed him tight. “Brought your little family something.” He handed you a bag. You said you’d open it later, you couldn’t handle any more emotions than you were already feeling. You believed in Trent and the team wholeheartedly. It just was stressful. You were massively nervous for this game but he insisted. You rolled your eyes at him being such a pest but you dug through the little gift bag. You unwrapped tissue paper and unfolded a Bellingham Real Madrid jersey. You smiled at how small it was. It did occur to you that if all Trent’s friends giftedyour baby girl jerseys she was going to have quite the collection.

“You know he’s not going to let her wear this in England.” You joked pulling him in for another hug. “Thank you, Judey. When we come back to Madrid with her, she will definitely have it on.” You giggled.

You moved outside the box to see Liverpool warm up on the pitch. Trent stood with his brow furrowed as he surveyed the seats in front of the box high up for you. He finally found you and his stern face snapped into the full cheeky smile you loved. You blew him a kiss and he made a heart with his hands back up to you. No matter how many matches he did it at, it always made your heart skip a beat. You felt so special being the girl in the crowd he was sending his love to. While you loved the gesture it also acted as a signal to those who cared if you were or weren’t at a game. If there was a heart in that boy's hands, there was a Y/N in the stands. Before you knew it you were singing You’ll Never Walk Alone swaying back and forth with Marcel and just as quickly the match was underway. Your eyes followed Trent closely as you leaned back in your seat, one hand subtly trying to hold your bump. You wore one of Trent’s jerseys from a few years ago with a pair of Reformation black shorts and a mesh Gucci black GG heeled sandal that featured the logo monogram patterned in rhinestone crystals across it paired with Bottega Veneta silver drop earrings and matching silver mini Sardine Bag.

What started as a fan account updating that you were simply at the match, moved to a breakdown of your outfit, and then spiraled into uncontrollable internet chaos. Comments flooded Instagram and Twitter posts of you sitting in the box next to Jude and Marcel. Being with Jude only fueled the fire and more for eyes to search for you at the stadium.

‘ISTG she’s pregnant. Why have we not seen her lately?’

‘YK Jude and Trent drive her crazy 😂’

‘She’s so cool. I want her closet’

‘Wait Jude Bellingham is at this match?’

‘Imagine sitting next to Jude Bellingham and friendzoning him lol’

‘She bagged box tickets to the UCL final… mission complete’

The first half began and as much as you were trying to watch you were slightly distracted as Marcel and Jude rattled on about what you should name your baby every time the ball went out of play. It faded out eventually when unfortunately, you all watched Milan net an early penalty but then in quick succession Trent bagged an assist to equalize. You watched minutes tick by. The match felt both painfully slow and unbelievably fast. The crowd were chanting. At first you didn’t clock it until a few people beneath the box turned to look up at you. You assumed it was to see Jude but they were pointing more at you. You’re not sure what drew the attention to you. People seemed to be fixated on Trent and there for you. Half the stadium sang out in unison…

‘She’s not that fit, she’s not that fiit, Trent Alexander Arnold, your birds not that fit’ . * IYKYK the tune*

When the chant fully registered, you didn't know what to do. You felt paralyzed. Jude leaned over and cupped his hand over your ear. He whispered to you not to react. To wait until it was over. You understood why he said that. There would be more of a story if there were videos of you running away crying but the thing was you couldn’t move if you wanted to. It felt never ending. Ringing and ringing around the stadium. When it finally faded out. Dianne came over and rushed you inside. You started balling. You had no control of your tears. It wasn’t that the chant was all that offensive, it was just the feeling of being targeted by so many people and more so, the feeling that you were carrying your little girl as they insulted you. Dianne sat with you consoling you until Jude came inside after a couple minutes. He plopped next to you on the couch. When his big frame sat down, your side of the cushion raised. He told you he got tired of everyone taking photos of him but you knew he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

“Me and you can hide out, yeah?” He cooed sweetly wrapping his arm around you laying it over the back of the couch. You watched the game on the large tv inside a little annoyed at yourself for being unable to withstand the crowd. You wanted to see Trent play so as it got into the final minutes you walked outside. It wasn’t looking good for Liverpool. They didn’t have a ton of possession but you were holding out hope. In an instant, a bizarre deflection off a shot bounced off god knows who into the back of the goal. Your stomach dropped. 2 -1 Milan. You felt sick. This couldn’t end like this. 90 minutes. 5 minutes of stoppage time. Then 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 2 minutes,1 minute left then the absolute worst sound you’ve ever heard; the referee’s final whistle muffled by half the crowd beginning to celebrate. Your eyes glazed over. You looked at Marcel dropping his head into his hands. You ran your hand over his back. Jude squeezed his hand tight above your knee.

“It’ll be fine.” He whispered as you both watched Trent take a seat defeated on the pitch. His head between his legs. They had lost the Champions League final. Cynically, Trent had to do a press conference post match. You went downstairs in the stadium with Tyler to be there with him.

You could barely look Trent in the eyes when you saw him. He walked over and hugged you in complete silence. Your cheeks squished together in the embrace. You pressed your lips to his skin and he closed his eyes. You could still feel his rapid heartbeat and chest heavily rise and fall. He was absolutely devastated. He let go and went on to go do his media duties. You trailed behind him watching his strong back walk into the room security tailing you. You stood in the back corner with people from the club and Trent’s camp. Your heart broke hearing his voice. His eyes eventually cast up towards you and they softened. You could barely manage a sympathetic smile. When you finally got to leave the stadium it was chaos and yet simultaneously soundless in the car. Trent wanted to get the fuck out of Spain so that’s what you did. You were on a plane back to England promptly. You didn’t know what to say. What you did know was that Trent needed to avoid his phone at all costs. Between the loss and the chant about you… he couldn’t see the internet right now. You grabbed his phone and turned it off putting it away in his bag. He was laying face down on a couch on the plane. You sat on the floor next to him. You rubbed his arm. He didn’t acknowledge you for a while until he turned his head to look at you. His blank stare didn’t change, it was just empty.

“I know, baby.” You whispered understanding his numbness, pushing your lips against his forearm. There wasn’t really anything to say. Trent wasn’t the type of person that wanted to hear ‘you played well’ or ‘you did your best’ type stuff even if it was true. He took losses to heart. Eventually he pulled you up for a cuddle with him. You sat next to him and opened your arms for him to settle into you. He let out demoralized breaths and sighs as you ran your hand up and down his back. He kept his face hidden in the nape of your neck. You kept the trip quiet only whispering how much you loved him after you’d kiss his head every so often. The loss lingered for days. When you settled back in at home he was almost vacant but he still took care of you. He drew you a bath every night. Sometimes he would join you but it’d be quiet, other times he would stay downstairs playing fifa in the cinema.

“You want to take it out on me?” You were asking if he wanted to have rough sex in an effort to make him feel better or just release a little. You’d done it a lot before it was always fun and hot but Trent was less than impressed.

“Nah baby. For one thing, you’re pregnant I’m not going to choke you out am I? Secondly, I’m not really in the mood for all that, honestly.” He was fairly snippy lately but you understood and let it go. You felt terrible and a little lost on how to fix this one but one day you decided you needed to get him out of the house. It was officially summer and the off season there was no use sitting inside. You forcibly dragged him with you and the dogs to go for a walk on Formby Beach. Trent rolled up the bottom of your sweatpants for you. Bending down was starting to get more difficult for you so you appreciated it. As you walked along the shore you spotted a family playing football. A little girl and her brother playing in the sand both in Liverpool jerseys; the boy wearing a Salah number 11 and then an all too familiar 66 flashed when the little girl turned around. Seeing her tiny curls in the kit hit you like a freight train. This would be your life. You would have a daughter just the same. You nodded your head in their direction for Trent to see. He squeezed your hand he was holding.

“Thank you.” He whispered quietly into your ear with a kiss behind it. He was happy you made him come with you. You smiled back at him before returning your gaze to the children’s football game.

“Always for you. You should say hi, T.” you cooed, turning back to him, swiping your thumb over his cheek.

“Nah, I don’t want to.” He wasn’t usually the person to go out of his way to flaunt who he was but he definitely didn’t feel like it after Madrid. They were only kids, you knew they'd be excited to meet him. Trent was not feeling the best and you understood that too. But as the way life goes suddenly the ball skidded across the sand towards you two. Trent juggled the ball a few times, flicking it upwards to catch it with a smile forming on his face. You gave him a knowing look because even as much as he was wallowing in the loss he still absolutely loved football at the end of the day. He walked it over to the two kids. You frowned seeing the two kids absolutely lose their minds seeing the one and only Trent Alexander-Arnold come over. They gushed that he was their favorite because he’s a Scouser like them. In turn, Trent teased the little boy about his Mo jersey. Their parents weren’t much better at containing their excitement. Trent took photos with them and talked for a little. When you walked away you could tell he felt significantly better, that he felt lighter. He wrapped his arms around you and you stood on the shore.

“I’ve never been more in love with you.” He cooed. The salty air had a wet chill to it but his warm embrace made it all okay. You stood in his embrace listening to the waves roll in and wash out. Things were calm for the first time in a while.

“You say that every time.” You giggled and everything on that beach and in the world slowed for a moment. You leaned your head back onto Trent. He hummed and kissed your cheek.

“And I mean it every time. Every day somehow it’s more than the last.” His words were more sincere than ever. You hated that they lost the game but it didn’t really matter in the big picture.

“T… I love you. I’m proud of you. You’re going to be a really good role model for her. You work so hard. You never give up and I really admire that. I wish I was like that.” You began to self reflect a little. You thought Trent to be much more resilient than you were.

“Thank you, baby.” He paused but then he laughed shaking his head. He didn’t agree with you. In fact, he didn’t think he was all that different than you were in terms of toughness. “You’re much stronger than you realize, Y/N.” Whenever Trent said your full name you knew he was absolutely certain about what he was saying and he was serious too. “This isn’t easy what you’re doing, what you’ve done. You’re amazing. You should never doubt yourself but I want you to know that when you do… I’m right here, baby.. I’ve got your back. I'm right behind you. Not giving up.” These were the times when you knew that there was something much deeper between you two then just attraction, then just good times. Trent really, genuinely cared for you not just as his girlfriend but as a person; he respected you and believed in you undoubtedly. You held hands walking back to your car and you stood at the boot. Trent helped you brush the sand off your feet. He kissed your ankle and you laughed. You heard children’s voices yelling so you picked up your head. You tapped Trent’s shoulder to turn. The kids from earlier were screaming bye to Trent. You giggled at their flamboyance. He waved back before wrapping his arm around your waist walking you to the passenger side.

“Passenger princess, that's what they call it now?” He laughed as he helped you in. You told him to shut up pulling the door closed.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You quipped as he got into the driver's side. He drove home with your hand laced with his. Everything was going to be just fine.

On a whim after dinner that night you decided you were going to make dessert. You had finally started to pull Trent out of his post Champions League funk. You put on some music walking back into the kitchen when Trent offered to help. The two of you landed on cupcakes, don’t know why but that’s what was happening. You got about ¾ of the way done when Trent cupped your chin. His dark gaze and long pretty lashes looked down at you. He scooped a bit of the frosting you had made off the whisk with his fingers and brought it to your plump lips.

“Open your mouth.” He cooed. You felt your heart rate pick up. You parted your lips a little for him. He slowly stuck his fingers in your mouth and you sucked whirling your tongue around them to taste. That’s at least what you were trying to do but you couldn’t shake the wave of excitement that ran through you when he did that. He pulled his fingers out equally as slow and wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He kept his eyes fixed on you the whole time. He hummed with a stern face before it fell into the perfect smile. He dropped his eyes from yours and gazed down at your swollen boobs spilling out of the little top you were in. His breath caught in his throat. Desire started to course through him. He pulled you closer to him. He leaned further towards you but kept his thumb right on your lips. He was teasing you, waiting for you to make the first move. He licked his lips and gave up waiting before his juicy pout crashed into you. You let out a quiet whine. He tasted so sweet from the frosting he had tried before. He hungrily dropped his hands to your ass, gripping it. “You’re so sexy.” Trent softly groaned. The kiss was needy and messy. He started to peel off your clothes. His fingers dipping down towards your pussy. “Already wet f’me, baby?” He whispered with a smirk. You tried to respond but stuttered and ended up just nodding. You were fucking adorable. In a flash you were up in your bedroom lying on the mattress. Trent pulled you towards him by your ankle. You squealed with a giggled as he dragged you. He got on top of you and pulled the lace thong you were in off with a shaky breath trying to compose himself. Your arms draped over his shoulder. He looked down at you and slipped his hand under your top to brush over your hard nipples. You were so sensitive you couldn’t help but whimper. His pearly white teeth flashed in a smile before they dropped and began to nibble against your nipples. He always tried to be gentle since you got pregnant but in the heat of the moment it was hard to restrain yourselves. You were gripping on the bed sheets above your head. You were babbling the most lewd things, you couldn’t even believe the things you were whining out. When he slowed he took your legs and placed them over his shoulder. That was like a death sentence for you. You loved it, he knew you loved it. It was a match made in heaven and quickly you started to unravel.

“I’m gonna cum!” You inhaled sharply as your chest heaved underneath him. Trent placed a harsh kiss onto the back of your leg. And then he stopped when your orgasm came crashing over you. “T…Oh my god. What?” You whined as your pussy fluttered around him. He relaxed his body so you dragged your foot down his chest sensually back to the bed.

“You need to understand how much I love you.” You were confused when he said that. You were pretty sure you understood just fine and he was showing you how much he did until he just stopped. “You need to see what I see.” He pulled out of you and you hissed. He turned you to face the large mirror in your room and stood behind you on the bed. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He asked rather harshly. His warm breath fanning against the shell of your ear sent shivers down your spine. He playfully licked down the side of it only to nibble on your earlobe. He teased you, dragging his leaking tip through your folds circling your entrance. “Do you?” he slipped his cock into your pussy with no warning. The buildup in these few seconds when he wasn’t inside you was insane. You leaned back into him as he continued to build his pace again. He kissed your neck and you let out a desperate moan. Your heart swooned a little at the sentiment of his words. You stared into the mirror, watching him place gentle kisses against your skin in contrast to his harsh thrusts.

“I love you so fucking much.” You moaned out after a sharp breath when he hit a little bit deeper. His hand came around you and softly wrapped around your neck. He was so gentle dragging his finger down your throat. You knew he did it because he had said he wouldn’t earlier and it set you off. “T… Please, I need to cum.” The cutest scowl formed on your face.

“I got you. I got you, baby.” He whispered to your ear again. Your whines constantly getting louder. You felt like you were gonna black out. It felt so good. Your grip on him tightened and then you released. Your pussy spasmed around his cock. White hot pleasure coursed through you. Trent’s breathing deepened seeing you cum in the mirror. “God, you’re such a good girl f’me. I’m gonna cum, baby..” He threw his head back. Being able to see him had you barreling toward another high almost adjoining the other. He swallowed hard, fixing his gaze back on you as he reached between your legs. His fingers pinched your clit and you yelped out. He rubbed harsh circles repeatedly. You were a mess. The sounds in your room were nothing but pornographic. “Want me to cum inside?” You nodded your head completely drunk off his cock.

“Oh fuck! Fuck!” You whimpered, feeling both your own orgasm and his cum. He pumped you full, slowing his thrusts prolonging your high. You grinded back into him desperately needing a little more. His hands gripped your waist tight as he rocked into you a few more times

“Just… just need a little more. Fuck. Good girl.” He said almost silently out of breath, teetering toward drowsy. You both dramatically crashed back into your bed. You cuddled up to him with a giggle. That was exactly what you both needed.

“If I could fall in love with you for the first time all over again, Y/N, I would.” He panted, staring up and ceiling talking into the thick air. You pouted your lips at him.

“That’s really sweet, T.” You giggled leaning your head on his chest. “So this cheer you up more than cupcakes?”

“Massively, more than cupcakes, baby. Nothing could ever come close to comparing to you.” He smushed a kiss against your forehead.

You laid in bed the next morning. You woke up and rolled away from Trent unintentionally. You didn’t know he already had woken up. He furrowed his brow at you moving away from him, more often than not you woke up practically on top of one another, so he wasn’t having it. He extended one of his arms to come and wrap around your naked waist and playfully dragged you across the bed back toward him.

“Gotcha” he laughed in a groggy morning voice. You giggled and attempted to break out of his tight hold. He wouldn’t let go. Not this morning and not in a million years. He tucked you into his chest resting your head in the nape of your neck. You were so close that if you even opened your mouth in the slightest your lips would be on his skin. He whispered to you but you couldn’t exactly make it out. You think he said he loved you..

Despite the Champions League loss, Liverpool was still going to have a Parade in the city for their Premier League title. You helped Trent get ready, making him breakfast, before you sent him on his way to AXA for the 4+ hour parade he was about to embark on. You and Dianne thought it’d be nice to go to the house he grew up in to watch the route. It would be cute to be able to see his trajectory from his boyhood home to premier league winner. You also liked that he knew exactly where to find you while he was up on the bus. When the team buses went by he blew you a million kisses and he blew a million and one back. You stood and watched everyone drink and party. Lately, you didn’t feel like yourself and as you leaned your head onto George’s shoulder seeing the red flares fill the air you felt less like yourself then ever. Your body had changed so much and your ways of socializing had changed even more. You hardly felt yourself and yet you were watching Trent be more himself than ever.

Summer was in full swing. 30 degree weather and shitty ac was not helping the swelling you were dealing with. You had gotten to celebrate Trent’s success from this year but soon after it totally dissipated. The funny thing with footballers was as quickly as they were able to move on from their losses they did just the same with their wins. All eyes were on the upcoming season. The workouts, plans, activations, all sorts of things for football started right up again. You sat in your back garden by the pool on a late afternoon. You laid on separate chairs as long as you could but ultimately you ended up sitting yourself in between his legs sharing a seat. You leaned your back against his bare chest. He snaked his hands around your waist. Caressing your stomach. When your phone pinged. You got an email notification from Tyler and Trent’s manager.

“T…T…” you slapped at his arms. Your jaw dropped and a sudden jolt ran through your veins. Trent answered with a distracted hum. “No, seriously…” you cooed, turning your head back to him. “Did you just get Ty’s email!”

“My phone is inside. What’s it say, baby?” He pressed a kiss against your cheek peeking over you to look at your screen but you weren’t giving him a good enough view. His hands nicked the phone from you. “Let me see” he wanted to read the email in full.

“T.. we got invited to Paris fashion week!!!!” You squealed, kicking your feet up and down on the longue chair.

“Okay, okay, okay, excited girl. I’m assuming you want to go?” He laughed at you. Squeezing you tight. “We can, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“T… we have to. We have to pull together like looks* Can I dress you? Pleaseeeee” you began to babble excited imagining the fits. He rolled his eyes at your pestering and agreed. You bickered back and forth who had better style until the sun went down. You began walking back inside whilst Trent was rambling about what he wanted to have for dinner.

“You know it’s me, just admit it, baby…” you teased cutting him off and squeezing his hip. You never landed on an agreement of who dressed better. It was typical Trent, he knew he was wrong but he never wanted to lose.

“What are you on about?” He looked at you confused, swatting your hand away from him.

“I have better style. It was literally my job. Just concede for once, T.” You giggled going to pinch at him again.

“Nope!” He popped the ‘p’ laughing. “I dress better and I'm a lot faster too.” He slapped your ass and took off running like a little kid back into the house away from you

“That wasn’t up for debate! I’m pregnant, T! Be nice to me!!!” you whined left in the back garden. “This is your baby, come backkk!” You yelled after him. He turned around laughing.

“C’mere” he grunted, scooping you up carefully. “I’m always nice to you, baby.” He cooed with a big fat kiss.

“Can you come here pleasaaaseeee. I need to see this on you.” You whined begging Trent to come into the wardrobe. You sat on an ottoman there on FaceTime with Lauren as you packed for Paris. Trent had delegated his packing to you but he really needed to be there. You had worked as a stylist for major magazines so you offered to coordinate with his PR team and the brands of the shows you’d be attending. You worked together to decide what you were going to wear and in turn be delivering to your hotel on the day of the show. You were currently packing for all the rest of the days you were going to be there.

“I thought this is what you were on the phone for, Laur.” Trent laughed, jogging into the room. He heard Lauren’s voice before he entered. “What do you need, baby?” He cooed, pressing a kiss on your head.

“Can you put this on for me?” You tossed a short sleeve Louis Vuitton button up shirt towards him and he snatched it out of the air, putting it on the island while he took his top off. You were 50/50 on the color at the moment. Trent pulled his shirt over his head. Leaving his toned abs on full display. You looked Trent and then back at Lauren with full cheeks and mouthed a ‘yum’ at her. She fed into it and teasingly whistled at Trent.

“Stop objectifying me.” He feigned offense. You rolled your eyes at him because no matter who said it you knew he loved when people liked the way he looked.

“Aw baby you’re just so pretty.” You cooed with a giggle. To be fair, you were incredibly serious. He did look really good. He swung the shirt around his back to slip his arm in.

“Yeah, T, you’re so pretty.” Lauren laughed only egging the situation on. Trent threw her a less than impressed stare. You bit your lip watching his big hands do the small buttons.

“Yes or no?” He asked as he finished the last one. He left the top two undone and he looked good you just were trying to focus on the actual shirt.

“Erm… “ you pondered for a second. Trent spun around with his arms out to show you it in full.

“Good modeling," you giggled, drawing a smile from him. You decided you liked it. The shirt would work.

“We’re done? I can go?” Trent asked wanting to get back to whatever he was doing. All you knew was that he wasn’t packing. You just hummed. He came over to you and pecked your lips. “Thank you baby.” He cooed standing above you taking off the shirt. You ran your hands up his taut abs.

You were upstairs the entire day, accessories bags, toiletries, there were so many things to get together. Frankly you loved packing. It was your two favorite things: organizing and clothes. You zipped the last bag and laid on the floor exhausted.

You landed in Paris and were thrilled. You got off the plane onto the tarmac. Trent carried your bag in one and held your hand in the other.

“Mon amour” he held the door of the room for you to enter. Followed by the bellhop with all your bags.

“Merci joli garçon” you replied giggling hearing his silly accent attempt French. ( thank you pretty boy) you sat down on the couch and let out a sigh exhausted from the flight.

“Oh yeah?” He laughed at your dramatics. “You hungry, baby?” Trent ask cupping your jaw swiping his thumb over your cheek.

“I need to change but yes.” You smiled back at him. You showered together and then got dressed. You put on a on denim shacket dress, gold strappy sandal heels, and a light blue Fendi bag with gold hardware. You needed to stop wearing heels soon or you were going to die but honestly Paris wasn’t the place you were going to stop.

You were outside at a favorite cafe of yours in the sixth arrondissement. You sat next to Trent in black and dark green rattan chairs looking out to the street at a small circular table. You were hungry and landed on doing your own taste test of a few different crepes. Your tabletop was covered entirely with plates.

“I think I’m just happy with the chocolate…” you told Trent looking at him with a smile reaching towards his face. You wiped your thumb over the corner of his mouth to get a bit of chocolate.

“Yeah? You were never a chocolate person until her.” He spoke looking at your hidden stomach. “I’m more into sweets, you know? I think I lean towards the berry ones.” You dragged your smooth leg over his under the table. You hummed interested in everything he had to say but you pulled him in for a kiss in the middle of his sentence. You lips pressed into each other.

“Sweet” you cooed, pulling away from his perfect pout. He gave you a cheesy smile and you returned one just the same.

“Me or the crepe?” He laughed looking into your eyes. He placed his big hand on your bare thigh and squeezed high up.

“Mmmm both I guess.” You giggled before picking up your fork to take another bite of the chocolate crepe. “Do you want to go to a few shops before we go back for dinner?” You asked after you had seen the Dior store on your walk over to the cafe. He agreed so you went after you got full from all the crepes and browsed for a while. You really wanted a Book Tote for your holiday to the Maldives but ended up with that, a pair of silk pants, and Dway slides. As you were walking with your sales associate to check out you spotted the Dior bracelet sets. “Want to match with me?” You picked one up holding it towards Trent.

“Yeah, baby. I’ll match with you.” He grabbed it from you and inspected it. He held it over his wrist to imagine it on him. “This one though.” He grabbed a different color. He held it over his wrist to check again and then yours. “Yeah, this one is for us.” You nodded with a childish grin liking the way his face looked while he thought. You had moved into the mens section looking at trainers with Trent when you saw it.

“Ohhhh my god T…” you whined with a pout, taping his arm, seeing the entrance into a separate part of the store for Baby Dior.

“We can go…” he laughed at you taking one trainer he was trying on off. He held your hands as you walked in. You leaned your head onto his shoulder and hummed. He pressed a kiss to your head as you made your way to where new born things were. You two had a field day. You always loved shopping but in Dior… with Trent… for your baby… it was the absolute dream.

“Babbbyyyy, she needs these.” Trent groaned. He held up a little pair of high top trainers. You knew pretty quickly that Trent was going to give this little girl everything. He already gave everything to you but throw in chubby cheeks and his dna in the mix, he was a goner.

“Yeah, T. I like those.” You giggled as he furrowed his brow, inspecting the shoe size chart for age to months trying to figure it out. It was really adorable how dedicated he was to learning all things about babies and little girls.

“et nous pouvons envoyer tout ça en Angleterre?” You asked the sales associate before you paid for an obscene amount of stuff. You took French in school your whole life and it always came in handy. You felt like you got better service when you were in France so you handled the check out. The women nodded at you. “Parfait, merci.” You cooed. (And we can send all this to England? , Perfect, thank you)

“Beautiful and smart” Trent came to stand in front of you and nuzzled his nose against yours. You kissed his plump lips. You felt your cheeks warm as he pulled you into his chest. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. He picked his head up and said thank you to the sales associate before being escorted out of that side of the store. You took about one step out the door before someone had spotted Trent that had been waiting to meet him. You took a photo for them and didn’t think anything of it but the internet sure had a lot to say.

‘Are they in front of BABY DIOR?’

‘OMG are they going to Paris Fashion Week??!?’

‘Are we going to talk about the fact that Trent Alexander Arnold is walking out of baby dior in France today?’

‘If she is pregnant, that baby is going to be beautiful… omg’

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 5 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #taa66 #oursfic

122 notes · View notes

scary-grace · 1 month

Text

Off-Script - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Tomura's been Dabi's stunt double for almost a decade, and he's not easily impressed, but when he squares up with you for a fight scene, he finds himself caught off-guard in more ways than one. As the shoot progresses and sparks fly between the two of you, Tomura has to decide if you're worth the risk -- or if the best sparring partner he's ever had is all you'll ever be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

This is my second fic for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, with the prompt 'summer blockbuster'! As usual, thank you for running this event and congratulations on the milestone!

Chapter 1

“No.”

“No?” Midoriya Izuku repeats. He taps his headset, like there’s something wrong with it instead of what Dabi just said. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t do swordfighting,” Dabi says. “It’s in my contract.”

Midoriya looks baffled, just like every newbie director who’s ever hit their head against one of the batshit provisions in Dabi’s contracts. And Dabi’s not anywhere close to done with kicking the director around. “How come I’ve got a sword, anyway? Quicksilver didn’t have one in any of the other movies. Or the comics.”

In Tomura’s opinion, Dabi should keep his mouth shut about what happens in the X-Men comics. Everything he knows about the comics and the character he plays is something Tomura had to explain to him way too many times, in detail. “We’re rebooting the Apocalypse arc,” Midoriya says. “The premise is that Apocalypse rises in every age – long enough for people to forget about him in between – and the same characters have been fighting him the whole time, reincarnated over and over again. Only this time it’s different, because four of those characters have been chosen as Horsemen, and they’re fighting for Apocalypse, not against him.”

“Great. Why is there a swordfight?”

“In the original arc, technology provided a boost to the anti-Apocalypse forces,” Midoriya says. “By setting it in the Iron Age, we’re taking that advantage away. That’s why everyone has weapons. Including Quicksilver.”

“Cool.” Dabi lights up a cigarette. “I’m still not doing it.”

“But –”

“That’s what I pay him for.” Dabi jerks a thumb at Tomura. “Talk to him.”

Tomura’s been Dabi’s stunt double for basically all of Dabi’s career. Most stunt doubles stick to stunts, but over the years, Tomura’s role has expanded from stunts to include anything Dabi doesn’t feel like doing. Swordfighting isn’t a stunt. It should be well within Dabi’s skills. And it is – he just doesn’t want to do it. Which means that Tomura’s up.

Midoriya looks at Tomura hopefully. Tomura levers himself up off the wall and rolls his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Midoriya follows him to costume and makeup, yapping the whole way, trying to figure out what he did to upset Dabi so much. Tomura thinks about explaining that it’s not Midoriya’s problem and Dabi’s just like that, then decides against it. Midoriya’s the one who decided not to recast Quicksilver, and Dabi isn’t exactly known for being easy to work with. He made his own bed. Tomura’s not here to tuck him in, and he’s not here to make excuses for Dabi. He’s here to do stunts. That’s it.

Quicksilver’s costume isn’t skintight, which makes it miles better than any of the other Quicksilver suits Tomura’s had to wear since Dabi was first cast in the franchise. It’s his first time in the outfit, so he asks the costumer about it. “There was no Lycra in the Iron Age,” Magne explains as she stitches one last panel into place. “The director wanted historically accurate materials. And the SFX team threatened to quit if they had to edit any more bulges out of the shots.”

That’s a relief. Whenever a new movie in the franchise comes out, the fan blogs make lists ranking all the bulges, which is awkward at best and career-threatening at worst, given the one time a list used a shot where Tomura was doubling Dabi and ranked it higher than Dabi had ever placed on his own. Midoriya is deeply weird, even as far as directors go, but Tomura will take the wins where he can get them.

He tunes back in to what Midoriya’s saying as Magne screws around with his hair to mimic Quicksilver’s signature look. “Who am I fighting again?”

“Psylocke. You read the script, right?”

Sure, Tomura read the script. The script isn’t the problem so much as the fact that the actress playing Psylocke quit last week. “Did you find a new one?”

“Of course!” Midoriya brightens up creepily fast. “Right, you should meet her! She’s – um –”

“Up at the site already,” Magne says, spraying Tomura with hairspray without warning him first. “She was pretty quick to costume. I didn’t even have to put her in a wig.”

Midoriya beams. “She’s great,” he says. “We’re lucky we found her on such short notice.”

“Who is she?”

Midoriya says a name Tomura’s never heard in his life. Magne hasn’t heard it, either. “Come again?”

“She’s on the newer side,” Midoriya says. His smile’s looking a little insane. “Are you ready yet?”

“Just a sec.” Magne sprays Tomura again, then attaches three motion-capture dots to his forehead. “There we go. All set.”

Tomura stands up, but he doesn’t get clear fast enough to avoid Magne’s customary ass-slap. “Break a leg,” she says.

“Thanks.” Tomura slinks out of the costume tent, already in a mood.

They drive to the site in one of the various beat-to-shit Jeeps Midoriya inherited from the person who directed the last X-Men movie. Midoriya drives, which is bad all on its own, but halfway there, Tomura realizes there’s someone missing. “Don’t we need Aizawa on this?”

“Aizawa’s choreographing the first big fight scene. Most of the actors haven’t done real swordfighting before, so it’s taking a while.” Midoriya’s grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled in a way that makes Tomura wonder if he should be bailing out of the car. He’s pretty sure he can do it without getting a single bruise. “Even if it’s just for a few tracking shots before we cut away to you – sorry, Dabi – chasing Psylocke, it needs to look good.”

That’s fair. Tomura hates a lazy background shot, on the rare occasions when he watches a movie. Midoriya glances at him. “I know you said you read the script, but – give me your take on what’s going on in the scene.”

Tomura’s heard Midoriya ask people that before. Correction: He’s heard him ask actors before. “I’m not an actor.”

“There’s not a ton of dialogue in this scene. The physical aspect has to tell the story,” Midoriya says. “So?”

He’s not going to let this go. Tomura decides to get it over with. “During the main fight, Psylocke lifts the artifact everybody’s fighting over and runs. Quicksilver goes to catch her, but she uses her mutation to slow down time around him, which puts him on the same playing field as she is. They fight, he pulls her mask off, and figures out she used to be on his side. Then she cheap-shots him and escapes with half the artifact. Did I get it?”

Midoriya nods, but he’s frowning. “Quicksilver and Psylocke are foil characters in this interpretation of the story. He’s Magneto’s son and she’s part of a family of heroes. When they recognize each other, it should be a shock – they’re not just seeing a friend who’s now an enemy, they’re each seeing the person they should have been. So the back half of the fight should, like, reflect that.”

Tomura doesn’t do emotional turmoil. “You want Dabi for this.”

“That was the plan,” Midoriya says. He sighs. “Just – do your best, okay?”

Tomura was doing high-wire stunts while Midoriya was still in high school. He doesn’t need hyping up for a swordfight he can do in his sleep. But just because he can do it in his sleep doesn’t mean the actress Midoriya pulled out of a cattle call will be any good at it. “Does Psylocke 2.0 know what she’s doing?”

“That’s why I picked her.”

Huh. Tomura crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat for the remainder of the ride.

The site is up on a bluff, in a stretch of forest thick enough that barely any sunlight gets through. “This is supposed to be a nighttime scene, but thanks to the tree cover we can fake it,” Midoriya explains as he parks the Jeep and scrambles out. “Hey, guys! Over here!”

The crew looks like they’ve been waiting a while. Tomura knows most of them after spending the last seven years on the sets of various X-Men movies and hanging out at C-list afterparties. Of the group, he really only gets along with Spinner, who handles props. Everybody else is just someone else to be irritated with when they inevitably start bossing Tomura around. He props his feet on the dashboard and waits for something to happen.

“Psylocke! Quicksilver! Over here!”

Midoriya’s beckoning to him. Tomura forgot about Midoriya’s habit of using character names during shoots, and he thought Dabi was just using it as something to bitch about until right now. It’s annoying as hell. Tomura gets out of the car and skulks over, but someone else gets there first. Midoriya’s talking to her as Tomura approaches. “I know the script says you’re shooting with Dabi, but he, um, doesn’t do swordfights, so he sent his stunt double instead.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not you,” Midoriya says hurriedly. “He’s just having an off day.”

“An off year,” Tomura corrects. Midoriya jumps, steps aside, and gives Tomura his first look at you.

He sees right away what Magne meant about your hair – you match Psylocke’s design from the comments in length and color, even if the texture’s wrong. You’re a little shorter than the original actress, and you don’t look like an actress, even though the makeup artists already got to you. Actresses in big-budget films look a lot like each other, because they’re all wearing the same makeup and getting the same plastic surgeries, and they’re all the same kind of hot. You look way too much like a person. Like you should be behind the camera, not in front of it.

As Tomura sizes you up, he’s well aware that you’re doing the same thing to him, probably having the same thoughts. But you smile and hold out your hand to shake. “Hi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Tomura shakes your hand for lack of anything better to do. “Go see Spinner for props,” Midoriya instructs, “and think about how you want to do this. Maybe get in character also? I’m not sure how many takes we’ll get before the light changes.”

“Got it,” you say. “Spinner is –”

“The guy with the swords,” Tomura says. It’s hard not to roll his eyes, and it gets harder when you fall into step beside him. Spinner is waiting for you both behind the props table. “Hey.”

“I was expecting Dabi,” Spinner says, picking up a sword. When Tomura reaches for it, Spinner chucks it to one side and lifts another. “I was gonna give him that one, but you’re better than he is, so I can trust you with this.”

Instead of the kodachi, he’s holding out a tachi to Tomura. “See how you like the balance on that. And for you, Psylocke – one katana, coming right up.”

Tomura keeps one eye on you and your sword while he’s testing the balance on his. You’re not being stupid with it, at least not yet. Holding it properly is the lowest possible bar, but Tomura’s met plenty of actors who can’t even manage that, and at least your grip looks solid. You walk a few steps away to practice sheathing and unsheathing it, and Spinner elbows Tomura. He nods in your direction. “What do you think?”

“What rock did Midoriya find her under?”

“I think she’s a stage actor,” Spinners says. Great. “Mainly musicals. She’s never gotten cast as anything bigger than an understudy.”

Tomura would facepalm, except he’s holding a sword. “Still,” Spinner says speculatively, “the director’s not a total moron. He must have seen something he likes.”

“Yeah. He likes not having to blow the costume budget on a wig,” Tomura says, probably a little too loudly. He sees your shoulders stiffen, and you turn to face him. You don’t look like you’re going to cry or anything, but Tomura’s been wrong about that before. “What?”

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to practice, or if we’re doing it blind,” you say. Before Tomura can answer, you make the decision. “I say blind. It’ll look more authentic if we’ve never fought each other before.”

Tomura likes that idea, if only because the chaos will mask his total lack of acting skills, but he was counting on a practice round to test your actual abilities. Still, it’s your funeral. “Fine by me. I’m not going to go easy on you or anything.”

“I’m glad,” you say, and smile. Tomura already saw you smile once, but it was nowhere close to being this spooky. You have to be doing it on purpose. “I wasn’t planning to go easy on you, either.”

Tomura should say something – maybe along the lines of ‘we just got off on the wrong foot, don’t cut my fucking head off’ – but before he can, Midoriya orders everyone to places. He must have given you instructions ahead of time, because you vanish into the trees, leaving Tomura to follow Midoriya’s hyperspecific directions for hitting his first mark. “We’re just going to roll,” he says, as Tomura steps out of frame and braces himself to run. “I’ll call cut once things go sideways.”

Things go sideways in choreographed fight scenes all the time. Things going sideways in an improvised fight is a guarantee. “Right.”

“Psylocke, are you set?”

“Set,” you call out from somewhere.

Midoriya takes a deep breath, like he’s the one who’s about to start a fake fight. “Okay. Action!”

Fake-running and skidding to a stop isn’t Tomura’s specialty or anything, but he can make it work. He hits the mark Midoriya specified, raises his hand to the hilt of his sword without drawing it, and takes a look around. Right here and now, there’s no reason for Quicksilver to think that someone’s about to attack him. Even Psylocke using her powers to slow him down could just be a tactic to ensure her escape. She’s basically already escaped. All Quicksilver has to do is wait for her grip on time to slacken, and then –

A twig snaps behind Tomura and he throws himself forward into a roll, pivoting as he gets to his knees and drawing his sword in the same moment. You put a lot of strength and a lot of momentum into your first strike, and if this was a real fight, Tomura would be injured or dead. As it is, you checked yourself at the last second, and you take your time settling into your next attack, giving Tomura just a second or two to plan out his own.

No attack yet. His wingspan is wider than yours and the blade of his sword is longer, which means the first step for Quicksilver to avoid a katana through the neck is to get out of Psylocke’s range. You’re not screwing around, so Tomura won’t, either – he picks up a handful of leaf litter, throws it into your face, and gets to a safe distance, remembering at the last second to make it look even sort of stylized. It’s a movie, after all.

You’re taking it seriously. The suddenness of your first attack has Tomura on edge, and the lack of any direction or choreography means he’s got no idea what you’re going to do. They won’t be in the back half of the fight until he pulls your mask down, and haphazard grabs look stupid on camera. He needs to get your mask on the first try, and between now and then, he needs to put on a show.

Tomura strikes at you, and you duck, pivot, halfway inside his guard before he can reverse the strike. But you’re in too close to use your katana effectively – on purpose – and Tomura aims a punch at your torso, hoping you know how to fake a hit. You do. You exhale sharply, jerk backwards, and Tomura separates from you again.

Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Why are you going this hard? It occurs to Tomura as he parries your counterstrike and returns a few of his own that these are the same thoughts Quicksilver would be having if any of this was real. Now that Tomura’s introduced hand-to-hand combat into the equation, you start using it, too, throwing a high kick that brushes ever so slightly against Tomura’s jaw. Tomura snaps his head sideways to make it look good, then lurches backwards in response to a fake punch to the solar plexus. He’s holding his own, and he’s in control of the fight, but to the camera and everybody else it’s going to look like Psylocke is handing Quicksilver his ass.

And you should be. Tomura underestimated you, then insulted you, and now you’re making him pay. But as interesting as the fight’s getting, it’s a movie, not a grudge match. Tomura shortens his attacks and you step in closer, close enough for him to grab your mask. Or it would be, if your face was where it’s supposed to be. Instead you’ve gotten all the way inside Tomura’s guard, stepped across him, and grabbed his shoulder with your free hand – and now you’re throwing him over your hip to the ground.

You’ve got the physical strength to pull it off – Tomura can feel it – but he gives you some help anyway, making the resulting fall look even harder than it’s supposed to. He lands flat on his back with you poised above him, pinning him down with your katana at the ready. Now would be a great time to grab the artifact, since it’s hanging on a loop around your neck, but Tomura’s got his orders, as stupid as they are. He reaches up, seizes the mask over your mouth and nose, and pulls it down.

You really can act. Tomura watches your expression shift from startled to shocked to something else, and you recoil backwards away from him. Tomura’s slow to rise, because Quicksilver’s supposed to be shocked, too. Dabi’s going to have to deal with whatever character choices Tomura’s making here, and he’s going to be pissed. Tomura doesn’t care. If Dabi wanted to have a say over what this fight looks like, he should have done it himself.

You’re pulling your mask over your face, pressing it down. You’re so busy with it that Tomura almost gets away clean with grabbing the artifact from around your neck. You catch him at the last minute and pull it back, and it splits cleanly between his hand and yours. You take one artfully reckless swing with your katana and Tomura ducks back just a little farther than he needs to. Which is when you turn and run, booking it out of frame and towards the far edge of the woods.

Some camera guy – Iida, Tomura thinks – chases after you. Tomura’s off the hook, but he holds still anyway. He’s gotten yelled at more than a few times for moving before the director’s officially called cut. But Midoriya isn’t calling cut. He keeps not calling it. Tomura can hear him, though. He’s muttering to himself.

“Hey, boss-man!” hollers the unit director – Togata, or something. “Want to call a cut?”

“Oh, oops! Cut! Definitely cut.” Midoriya sounds like he couldn’t give less of a shit. When Tomura turns to look at him, he’s got a notebook and he’s writing furiously. And mumbling again. Tomura’s worked with a lot of directors and more than a few weird ones, and once he rules out the hand fetishist and the guy who wanted the fight scenes to include real knives and real blood, Midoriya’s definitely the weirdest.

You come back from wherever you ran off to, and you don’t seem to think Midoriya’s as weird as everyone else does. “Are we waiting for notes?”

“Huh?”

“After we run a scene in a stage show, we get notes,” you say. You’re not quite breathing hard. Neither is Tomura. “Do you not do that around here?”

“Nah,” Togata or whoever says. “Usually the director just hollers at whoever screws up and makes everybody do another take.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Who screwed up? Was it me?”

“You certainly took some liberties with the scene,” Iida says. “The original intent –”

“You want original intent, don’t tell us to improv,” Tomura says. The fight with you was maybe the most intense fight scene he’s ever done. When Midoriya inevitably nixes it, Tomura wants a copy. He addresses you. “It wasn’t you. Somebody on the sound side probably fucked up.”

“Excuse me?” The sound tech – maybe Jiro? – looks like she wants to club Tomura to death with a boom mic. “I fucked up? If you two hadn’t gotten all –”

“Midoriya,” Togata sings out, patting Midoriya on the shoulder. Midoriya jumps. “Hey! Good to have you back! Should we get set for another take?”

“No.”

Mirio looks confused. He’s not the only one. “Are we taking this one back to the drawing board?”

“No.” Midoriya shuts his notebook and looks up, his eyes shining in the crazy way movie people get when they have a really wild idea. “That was the take. We’re done.”

“What?”

“That was it.” Midoriya’s grinning. “It was perfect.”

Now you look weirded out. Finally. “No notes?”

“We need some close-ups, but –” Midoriya grabs his radio and hollers for somebody to put Dabi in his costume “ – you guys did a great job. Like, even the timing – it’s going to be so easy to use those beats for close-ups, and all the character stuff – you were so in sync it was scary, but emotionally you were each totally on your own journey, and it looked –”

“Hey, take a breath. Don’t faint,” Jiro instructs. Midoriya sucks down some air, and Jiro turns to you. “You did your first fight scene in one take. Congrats.”

Spinner lifts the sword out of Tomura’s hand, then takes the two halves of the artifact from both of you. Tomura’s done here for now. He’ll hitch a ride back on the Jeep that brings Dabi up and find a place to nap. Hopefully. He feels a little too keyed up to take a break right now.

You’re still standing there, looking sort of dazed. It annoys Tomura for a second, until he remembers that you’re used to understudying in musicals, not shooting superhero movies. “Hey,” he says, and you startle. “That was a solid fight. You’re better than I thought.”

“That’s not hard,” you say. “All I had to do to be better than you thought I’d be was to not impale myself or anybody else.”

“I haven’t seen you work before today. Sue me,” Tomura says. “You know what you’re doing. That was a really good fight.”

You shrug. It pisses Tomura off. Fishing for compliments always does, and Tomura hates it – but instead of telling you to grow up, he tries to hit you over the head with it for real. “You might not know your head from your ass yet, but I do, and it was a good scene. I haven’t had a fight like that in –”

Years? A decade? Tomura doesn’t think he’s ever been in a fake fight that felt real without actually feeling unsafe. “That’s the best one I’ve done in a long time,” he says finally. “You’re a real actress now. That modesty shit isn’t cute.”

You shrug again and make your way over to where Midoriya and Iida are talking. You’re probably going to ask Midoriya if you did something wrong, and he’ll get weird and reshoot the whole thing. Or he won’t, and he’ll think you’re insecure, which drives most directors up the wall. The fight scene was good on the first take. That never happens. Excuse Tomura for wanting to enjoy it.

“Shigaraki,” Spinner says from behind Tomura, and Tomura looks at him. “That’s not how you talk to girls.”

“Huh?”

“You, like – negged her. A lot,” Spinner says. Bullshit. Tomura knows what negging is. He knows he wasn’t doing it. “You told her she sucks, and then you told her she doesn’t suck as much as you thought she did. And then you trashed her whole career before now –”

“When did I do that?” Tomura’s done with this. “I said she knew what she was doing.”

“Uh, yeah. She took you to the cleaners on camera,” Spinner says. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you looked really into it.”

What does he mean, into it? Tomura was doing his job. If he doesn’t get into it, he has to do extra takes. “So, like I said,” Spinner continues, “if you want to talk to girls and have it go anywhere, you have to give actual compliments. Not just tell her you’re surprised she wasn’t worse.”

“That’s not what I said,” Tomura growls. He doesn’t like anything about this conversation – not what Spinner’s implying, not what Spinner’s telling him to do. “Since when do you give me advice about girls?”

“Since I’ve gone on a date in the last six months,” Spinner says without blinking. “When was the last time you went out?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Dabi spent the last six months in rehab. You could have gotten out there,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “All you did was work out and play League.”

“That’s what I was busy doing,” Tomura says. “I don’t need lessons on talking to girls.”

“Sure,” Spinner says. “Give her a real compliment next time. It’ll help.”

It’ll help with what? Tomura doesn’t know what Spinner thought he saw, but whatever it is, it wasn’t there. Tomura doesn’t date actresses. Or actors, in spite of what a bunch of Dabi’s fans seem to think is going on between the two of them. And even if Tomura was going to date an actress, he wouldn’t date somebody like you – somebody new to all of this, somebody naïve, somebody whose confidence can barely survive a single hit. Maybe you’ll be the kind of actress Tomura would date if you make it through this shoot alive. The fact that no actress would ever date Tomura doesn’t matter at all.

Even if this is the only blockbuster you ever do, he’ll get to fight you at least one more time. There’s another fight scene between Quicksilver and Psylocke later on in the script. As Tomura leans against a tree waiting for his ride to show up while you talk way too earnestly to Midoriya, he finds that he’s already looking forward to it.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #stuntman au #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

72 notes · View notes

esamastation · 11 months

Text

Part forty-two of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one

The Turks have arranged everything. Sort of. The charcoal burner's house is long abandoned and remote, not close to any main routes, so it would be private. In the books, both Sephiroth and Angeal are taking part in a classified mission with the Turks, which has been approved by both the Director of the SOLDIER program and the Acting Director of the Turks. It would take someone higher up in the Public Security Department to delve deeper than that, and since the President had already given his seal of approval, there's not much even Heidegger can do about it.

"And Rude is bringing everything we'll need to survive," Reno finishes. "Starting today, your priority is sorting out whatever is going on with you, free of distractions, external stressors and hopefully of further incidents."

Sephiroth still seems to be stuck on the getting his shit together part of the mission and apparently isn't sure whether to be insulted or not.

Angeal clears his throat. "And what are we supposed to… do, exactly?"

"Hell if I know," Reno shrugs and nods at Sephiroth. "Figure you'd sort it out by yourself, with your new spooky… whatever it is you got going on. You seem to have some idea."

"Uh," Sephiroth answers.

Eloquent.

Angeal runs a hand down his face. Then he laughs. "Okay, I have to admit. I'm impressed. I didn't really think you'd do anything, but - I'm impressed." And more than slightly intimidated by the connections and liberties the Turks have, but that's not exactly new. "How long do we have?"

"Until further notice, or until someone back in Midgar gets antsy," Reno shrugs. "I'm thinking maybe don't worry about time. If you need more, we will arrange some."

Huh. "This is really that important, then?"

Reno gives Sephiroth a look and then looks at Angeal. "Yeah," he says, a deceptively easy answer.

That's… somehow a little disconcerting. Certainly Sephiroth is invaluable to the program and to the company, but this… this is beyond VIP treatment.

"I see," Angeal murmurs and clears his throat.

Sephiroth finally shakes himself loose from his surprise, enough to look first somewhat sheepish - and then intrigued. "So, I can do whatever I want here?"

"Pretty much," Reno agrees, without any care for how alarming the question is. "And if you need something to further your whatever, we'll get it for you."

"Nice. And there will be no other missions if I don't want to do them right now?" Sephiroth asks.

"You can do them or not as you'd like - none of them have higher priority than this, and they can be delegated to other people, if it comes to that."

Sephiroth runs a hand over his chin. "And if I want access to some material that might be to some extent classified?"

Reno narrows his eyes. "Like what?"

"Haven't decided yet," Sephiroth answers flippantly. "But it might come up."

"... Great. We'll review case by case when we come to it," Reno mutters. "Though you know it's a bitch to get stuff shipped here, right? We're on another continent."

"Yes, yes, it's very impressive," Sephiroth says dismissively and thinks about something for a moment. Then he looks at the charcoal burner's house with a discerning eye. "And you'll be staying here too?" he then asks, glazing at Reno. "To watch us?"

Reno shrugs, unapologetic.

Sephiroth eyes him for a moment and then turns back to the house. "Very well. It will do."

"... Awesome," Reno says and motions. "Go, make yourselves comfortable or whatever. I'm going to walk the perimeter and set some traps."

"Mmhmm," Sephiroth answers, already striding back into the house with a proprietor's casual confidence, and Angeal can just imagine the furniture soon to be rearranged inside.

He hesitates before following and looks at Reno. "What is this really about? It's not just that Sephiroth lost control, is it?"

Reno considers him. "Well, duh, no," he says. "It's the stuff he's been saying in between."

And the abilities he seems to be on the verge of developing. "What's the official view on what's happening to Sephiroth?" What are they expecting from him?

"There isn't one," Reno says and arches his brows meaningfully, and then turns to go.

Angeal's face tightens, and he knows he probably doesn't understand the implications… but then maybe he does. All this effort and all the stuff that's been going on… whatever it is, the company is looking forward to benefiting from it greatly. And they want no one messing with what is happening before they do.

Angeal thinks of the moment Sephiroth communed with the old tree the day before, and for a moment he really wishes it was Genesis here with him instead. Genesis would actually know how to handle all of this. Angeal isn't even sure if he can ask Genesis about this, if he can talk to him about this!

Never mind the fact that Genesis probably has his hands full with whatever is happening back at Shinra Building… the aftermath of Sephiroth's incident and whatever Professor Hojo was doing…

Angeal turns to head inside.

… Where Sephiroth has begun poking around the house, and, of course, is already moving furniture around.

"I see you are all for this," Angeal comments.

"I'll take all the extra time I can get," Sephiroth mutters while carrying a little table to the middle of the main room. "Though I am not exactly happy about being under Turk supervision, I'll take it over the alternative."

Angeal hums, looking around and then deciding that Sephiroth probably doesn't need - or want - his help in decorating. "What's the alternative?"

Sephiroth grimaces and goes to move a bookshelf.

Okay then. Ominous. Angeal sighs and sets the Buster Sword down to lean against the wall near the door, right beside Masamune. "You know they expect something to come from this. For you to… to make it worth their while."

Sephiroth half laughs and half scoffs. "I just bet they do," he agrees and picks up somewhat dusty cushions and considers them with a frown.

Angeal folds his arms. "Are you going to?" he then asks, worried.

Sephiroth pauses and looks away, dropping the cushions by the table in the middle. "No," he says finally. "I don't imagine I will. Regardless," he shakes his head. "This is the next best thing to a full-on seclusion, and I am damn well going to make the most of it."

Angeal doesn't know what that means, but it doesn't matter. "Okay," he says and draws a breath. "Guess we'll… just stay here for the time being, then."

Sephiroth hums in agreement. "Guess so. Does it bother you?"

"No more than anything else around Wutai," Angeal admits and looks up at the ceiling. "We were already looking forward to a prolonged stay in someone's abandoned home. This place is honestly an improvement."

Sephiroth relaxes a little. "Yeah. And hey, the people here weren't chased out or killed by Shinra. That's something."

Angeal looks at him curiously. "How do you know that?"

"The original owner left a scrap piece of letter behind. Apparently they were invited to the capital," Sephiroth says.

… Sephiroth reads the Wutai language? Huh. Angeal didn't know that.

"I guess that's good to know," he says and then sighs. "Okay, so. This… thing you're doing. Your energy alignment stuff. Is there anything I can do to help? What do you need?"

Sephiroth hesitates between moving some jars around and looks at him. "I need a proper cleared training area," he says and offers him a wry smile. "At least as big as the training room back at Shinra Building."

"I can do that, yeah," Angeal says. "Anything else?"

Sephiroth thinks about it for a moment before setting the jars back down. "I'll let you know."

Angeal nods and gets to it. There's not much he can do when Sephiroth refuses to trust him, but… he'd do what he could.

Hopefully by the end of it, it would be enough.

Time for a training montage.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #Ff7 #svsss #angeal hewley #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #reno of the turks

309 notes · View notes

ancha-aus · 3 months

Text

RealAgeAU Drabble - Haven

I am back with my BS AGAIN :D @spotaus You know the drill friend come over :D I can not be stopped. I have grown too powerful!! (just played dnd. Checked the chapter to upload tomorrow for my main au and i wrote a bit on a new story. I AM POWERFUL!) <- says the woman who will probably crash in under an hour lmao.

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We got no beta and no editing as we just go! maybe that is why these drabbles for going so well. me just kinda going and not worrying too much about the in between bits or mistakes or grammar. I just write and say that is done.. huh... writing lesson i guess. ANYWAY! back to the family :3

*---------------------*

Cross hums as he finishes cutting another wood board in the right size. He puts it with the others on the pile before checking the list he made before hand.

Cross nods as he looks towards the house "Got them all ready for the downstairs!" Cross grins as he takes a moment to just look at the house. Their house!

When Horror had returned with the news their new acquaintances had secured them a house they had all been sceptic at best, Dust had been downright suspicious.

But it was the truth! aparently they had managed to build up a good enough reputation that they had been trying to figure out a solution. An empty and abandoned farm and ground? That was too small for most to do anything with? hidden mostly by a forest?

Perfect for them!

They had gone to check it out and it is amazing! It is secure and easily to defend! Sure it is an old building but Cross and Horror can fix up the house easily enough! Dust had handed Nightmare over to Killer and had started looking around the house to inspect it.

long story short? He thinks he can fix most things.

With a hopeful plan they spend the inspection day also cleaning. That had been yesterday.

today? They took most of the old construction wood Crop and Straw had stored away and they got to work. Dust is cleaning and fixing what he can while Horror and Cross himself did contruction work.

Killer is on Nightmare watching duty. Mostly because Killer doesn't have nay skills in construction. Neither of them mind as they had been exploring their new area and territory together. Hoenstly it was adorable to see Killer walk by with Nightmare on his shoulders.

Horror walks out of the house as he takes the planks "Thanks. Walls?"

Cross grins proudly "All of them. Including the walls and the new banisters for the roof."

Horror blinks before grinning "great. thanks Oreo." nad he chuckles as Cross sputters.

May be because horror isn't wearing a shirt. Which kinda makes sense! Becuase horror is pulling a lot of old wood away and rebuilding stuff. the chances of him ripping his few good shirts is rather high. Still Cross is trying very hard to just focus on his face and skull. it is fine! No one notices!

Cross turns back to the pile he still has. it has been reduced quickly which sucks. He looks through it with a frown.

Crop stops by him with a knowing smile "Hey Cross!" he grins wider "Getting heated?"

Cross glares at him "Well the late autumn sun is rather warm!" and he goes back to shifting through his pile.

Crop nods "It is it is..." then the grin falls and he frowns "You guys already that low?"

Cross shifts through it more "Yeah but it is okay! I can probably use this to make the cabinets for the kitchen still..." still they will need to get more materials for everything else.

Crop frowns and must have made the same conclusion "Hopefully Straw gets back soon with more stuff."

Cross rubs his neck "You guys really didn't need to help this much... we already own you big time..."

Crop shrugs "That is how a community works Cross. We all help each other. We will eventually pay it back with helping them back." he smiles "We are only a tiny town and only have ourselves to count on. You heard how the deal with the repair service from the big city went. People are quick to think off us as dumb or naive. We gotta stuck together."

Cross shoots him a grin "We will try to ffigure something out... eventually." he groans "we don't even know what type of farm to make yet!"

Crop shrugs "You guys will have to test some stuff. See what works for you and your land..." he grins again "I don't think a diary farm fits you guys though."

Cross glares at him "Not funny. I swear Betty knew she freaked me uot."

Crop nods "Oh absolutely! Cows are really smart."

Just makes them more terrifying in Cross's opinion and he has no doubt that thought is clear on his face.

Crop laughs but a honk of a car pulls them out of their conversation. and. That is a giant truck. much bigger than Straw and Crop's truck.

Crop blinks "Dani and Ellie?" he raises to his feet and waves.

The truck stops and Ellie leans out "Hello! Your lovely neighborhood lesbians have brought you." she puts ahand under her chin and wiggles her eye brows "the wood."

Dani chuckles as she jumps out "Straw told everyone around town. Most people are grabbing their stuff but this was all stuff we were planning on giving to the community anyway." she shrugs "tree farmers after all."

Ellie grins as she waves them over "Come! lets see what you need! We have all types of trunks with us. They will still need some work and treatment but Dani is amazing with her magic!"

Dani grins as she gives a thumbs up "figure out how to treat wood with magic instead of the slow treatment. Most still want the traditional work but i figured you guys would be okay with this help."

Cross is unsure how to react. People don't just help them. People hate them and what they do. Tehy hadn't expected this much help and it is overwhelming "I... I... I don't know how to... We don't have money?" he is lost.

Dani shrugs again as Ellie smiles "Hey. We have been where you guys have been... well not exactly but people werent'exactly welcoming of us either... as soon as we graduated we grbabed my old car and just left. we foudn thsi place and people were nice enough to take a chance on us." she grins "We now pay that forwards. We are doing this!" she grins and winks "Will just have to invite us over for a prime tour of the farm once you guys are all done!"

Dani nods as she starts untying the many trunks "What Ellie said. the Danielle's are at your service. Now what do you need?"

Cross is still lost when Horror joins them curiously. no doubt hearing all the noise. He pauses as he takes in the sight before tilting his skull "What?"

Cross just kidna waves at the two "We... euh.. got help? And thinks? Do you know what we need?" his mind is in shambles at the moment.

Hroror sees it and smiles as he walks past. patting his shoulder before going over to the dog and bunny and having a short conversation. Horror hears their whole speech and smiles. he thanks them and explains what they need for what. The two woman listen closely before nodding and starting to organise the brought materials with practised ease.

Horror joins his side again and grabs Cross's lists. He takes a pencil and writes some tree names by a few of the items before handing them back "They will help prepare the materials. They are nice." and he disappears back inside.

Welp!! If Horror says that that means they are nice and most likely trustworthy! They get over to him and Cross explains the system he had and what they had calculated to need for each area. The two monsters nod and ask if they should start on the porch while cross continues preparing stuff for horror. Which Cross thanks them and agrees wiht.

They are hard at work when Killer nad Nightmare return. Killer laughs "Criss Cross! you are not going to believe this! The like east area just has a tiny field at the edge of the forest and part of that forest is still in our little area! better yet that means some of the forest animals are like right there!" then he notices the guests and grows quiet "oh... hello." His hold on Nightmare's leg tightens.

Ngihtmare tilts his tiny skull at the two monsters "Dani and Ellie... right?"

Ellie coos as Dani grins "Good memory. I can't imagine remembering all the new faces you meet only once is easy." and she finishes her spell on a piece of wood which Ellie pulls over to cut.

Nightmare shrugs as he hugs Killer's skull "good memory..."

KIller nods as he glances at Cross "Sooooo... Hello Lovely ladies!" he grins "What brings you here?"

Dani raises a piece of wood "Neighborhoodly friendliness." and she continues with her task.

Killer stares at him and Cross grins "They brough over some wood" he ignores the eye brow wigglign "after they heard from STraw that we are getting the house fixed up. aparently it is a community thing that everyone helps everyone." he shrugs at the doubting look "Don't look at me. it is new for me too. Horror said it is fine though."

Killer blinks "I mean... if Horror said it is fine..." he looks at Nightmare "What do you think tiny boss?"

Nightamre shrugs and hugs his skull.

Killer nods "notion accepted. Got it." he grins at them "We are going to look at some of the other stuff Straw and Crop brought along. See what is in there."

Cross nods "Good idea!" and he watches Killer walk off with Nightmare.

Dani chuckles and looks over "Not good at construction?"

Cross groans loudly "Killer is good at a lot of things... not construction." he shrugs "It is fine. We don't want Nightmare near this stuff anyway." he is too small to lift everything and could too easily get hurt. it doesn't matter he is technically a god he is not going to have to work. They don't agree with child labor.

Dani nods "I get that. best to have a child safe corner for them to sit in." she turns back to the next trunk and gets to work as Ellie cuts pieces.

They work for a long time and the sun is well past midday when more people come by. They deliver some older looking furniture and more tools and items for them to use.

Most don't stay for long aside from dropping things off or asking if they needed anything specific. Some brought over some premade food for them and other snacks because aparently 'breaks are important!'.

Crop and Straw, when he returned, work on clearing the road betweent eh main road and the farm and getting some clear markers on where to go.

Dani and Ellie leave later in the afternoon and by the end of the day their group of skeletons looks back at their progress. They aren't done yet but it starts to look more like a house than an actual falling apart piece of junk.

Dust is covered in ashes and when they look at him he just says 'fireplace' which probably means he found a challenge of somekind. Then again Cross thinks he spotted Dust on the roof once or twice but each time he had looked back to check he hadn't been there.

They are packing up when Killer and Nightmare return. Killer looking very proud and Ngihtmare looking a bit more nervous as he fidgets.

Horror and him share alook as Horror looks at them, now once again fully dressed "yes?"

Killer grins "Remember how we were told most farms have a name?"

Cross give shim a look "We are aware. we also agreed we would take time to think about it."

Killer grins "True. But! Nightmare thought of one and I figured it was perfect and fine!" Ngihtmare shoots him a glare and crosses his tiny arms.

Dust tils his skull "fact. Waht is the name?"

Cross wants to disagree but also if nightamre wants to clal it something specific he is fine with it. Nightmare never complains about them deciding stuff so why would they complain about this.

Nightmare mutters something but when he sees everyone looking and waiting he speaks louder "It was just an idea... Killer got excited..." still staring and he rubs his arm looking embarresed "It is silly... I thought... I figured Haven would fit. Haven Farm."

Cross stares at Nightmare and feels a bit of tears try to form as the meaning sinks in and what it implies and means. He can't stop it as he picks nightmar eup and hugs him close. Purring much too loud as he speaks "I agree it is perfect!" their home. their safe place. their hide out. their haven.

Killer grins wider and nods "Which i agreed with. So!" he pulls out a board from behind his back.

It is a name plate. It spells Haven but the letters are a bit croaked and nailed to the backboard. it are all different sizes and different colours nad Cross fucking loves it!

Killer grins "We made it together." he rolls his eye lights "don't worry i did the cutting and nailed it all together. Ngihtmare was my supervisor."

Dust looks appeased as he nods "Seems good."

Horror nods as he takes the plate and puts it by the door, too hang later "Will need a bigger one for the gate at the enterance."

Cross grins as he feels ngihtamre relax at the approval and start to purr himself. Cros sjust nuzzles the babybones.

They still have a lot of work ahead of them but that is fine. It will be all so very much worth it once it is done and they have their house to finally just be them.

*--------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #cross sans #dust sans #Killer sans #horror sans #bad sanses #farm sans #farm papyrus #So many characters today!#But i did it! and fun fact i had this one planned for a while as well but i had to do some groundwork before this one would be as satisfyin #as it is now! At least it is that way for me now #Killer and Nightmare both got stuck in the stay out of the way and busy zone because neither can do construction #dust also got stuck in the chimney for a bit but no one knows this because dust didn't ask for help and shimmied his way out himsefl again #he is just covered in ash now becuase he got stuck for a good 30 minutes as he wiggled #the hearth/fire place/chimney in the kitchen is all clean and ready to use now!#he is going to take his time fixing and checking the other one for anothr day #Cross and horror know basic construction and learned more at the castle and even more at crop's place #they knew what to do and how they just needed materials and tools #which luckily magic can do a LOT of work for them #The house isn't done yet but they are making progress and they got a name! Haven Farm!

62 notes · View notes

politemenacephd · 8 months

Text

Arachnophilia: (Part Nineteen)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Plot time! Some fluffy conversation, Action, Some spider peril, aphrodisiac influence.

Word count: 4100 Notes: Ok so I've had extra time off w being ill to re-cooperate and I've actually got chapters 20 and 21 done so hopefully those will be up sooner! Thanks for waiting <3

‘You ready?’

You were milling about the HQ entrance with Mig at your side, preparing for your first mission together. You’d got into your hazmat suit just fine but Mig was struggling with his. They usually came with attached leg parts and he didn’t exactly have legs to fit into one, so his had been hastily made to order.

‘Argh—I hate this, clothing, thing—how did I ever wear this every day?’

You snorted at Mig’s quiet grumbles as you helped pull the thick plastic material over his stocky belly.

‘I’ve brought up the possibility of making an exception for you, with the- clothing, thing, but they’re being weird about it’ you mumbled.

‘I don’t- want you to go through any trouble for me’ Mig said. His voice kept catching as he squirmed. You noted how tight his suit was compared to yours, how it clung to his enormous shoulders like latex. Clearly whoever had made it hadn’t paid close enough attention to how big Mig was.

‘What was it you used to say to me? Oh no, arañita, I like doing things for you—that’s me. That’s also me. I like doing things for you, it’s why I am—’ you paused to give his suit one final tug. ‘In a relationship with you!’

Mig totally ignored that his suit was on, instead doing a little wiggle with his abdomen to the word ‘relationship’. Hearing it made him so happy.

‘Mm. Yes, well- okay.’ He bent down and reached out his hand, baying you to give him yours. You did, and he gingerly kissed your fingers before squeezing them between his claws. ‘I suppose I don’t mind you doing a little for me. If it makes you happy.’

‘You’re so silly’ you chided gently. For just a moment, you got to stand and look up into his big red eyes without worrying about anything or anyone else around you. His eyes creased as he smiled.

‘Mi arañita’ he whispered.

It was simple, short, sweet. To you, it was an affirmation. To him, it was a confession of love he just wasn’t strong enough to make overtly quite yet. You bumped foreheads, since the suits stopped you being able to kiss, before withdrawing from each other.

‘May I, make a confession to you, arañita?’

‘Yeah, of course. Go ahead.’

‘I… I am certainly, excited, to see a new universe again. I used to dream about this when I was human, and while I gave up on my dreams when I changed it has been… exhilarating, to feel like a scientist again. I just…’ Mig paused and gently rubbed his jaw. ‘I’m, nervous.’

‘About what?’

‘About… You’ he said, his voice dipping. ‘About, putting you in danger.’

‘Oh Miggy- I’ve been a spider a lot longer than you have!’ you insisted.

‘Yes. And on your first mission, you met me. Because you—got hurt’ he said bluntly. Your teasing smile turned to an awkward frown.

‘Oh… Ohh. Right. Yeah. Well… Look at it this way.’ You turned and gestured to yourself, lightly tapping your chest as you stared up at him. ‘I completed my first mission specifically because I had your help. So, now you’re here with me, it’ll be even better! And I promise, I won’t get headstrong and try to go around you. I will accept your help.’

Mig still looked perturbed but he seemed comforted at the memory of helping you. ‘Yes… Yes, you are, correct.’

‘As always.’

‘Mm. Very humorous. Regardless, you are right. I helped you then, and, I can help now. I appreciate you understanding my concern, arañita. I also, as a show of good faith, will not stand in the way of you doing this mission. I trust you.’

You beamed up at him, and he beamed back.

‘I’m just rather surprised we got put on it at all. I was quite prepared for my, other half to get in the way’ Mig mused as he shook himself off. Immediately your face fell.

‘Ah... yeah. Me too. Me too’ you said quietly.

You’d been surprised Miguel had even okayed the idea of you both going out. He’d been so weird about Mig joining at all, and then out of nowhere he was giving you both a mission right after Mig passed? When you joined it took months to get any mission at all. Deep down, this whole thing had you a little on edge.

You were trying to keep your feelings to yourself, though, since you didn’t want to upset or worry Mig. He was settling in so well and you’d hate to cause him discomfort for no reason. You liked seeing him happy. You liked seeing him thrive.

‘Mi arañita?’

You blinked and glanced upward, only to find Mig staring at you. You must have gotten lost in your thoughts.

‘Ah- hey, what’s up now pretty boy?’ you asked, forcing a smile. His lips didn’t return the same softness. Instead, his face remained serious.

‘You’re worried. Yes? About my counterpart, and how quickly this mission was given to us. You’re worried that he has some ulterior motive. You’re worried he might be, setting us up, rather than stepping back.’

You sighed. God damn it. While you appreciated how in-tune you were, it also made hiding anything a little awkward. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I—was.’

‘I... Yes. I, feel the same, though I do want to believe he’s actually gotten better’ Mig murmured sadly.

‘I’d like to believe it, but I’m also not stupid’ you snorted. The two of you briefly went quiet as a gaggle of spiders webbed past you down the lobby, before slowly drifting closer again.

‘We- are, very similar, you know’ Mig explained. ‘I told you, once, how our paths only diverged in life when we changed. He became, him, and I became… this. But before that we were… so, so similar. Almost identical.’

‘That change was a long time ago, though, right? Like, so long that you forgot what clothes feel like.'

Mig chuckled at your light teasing, but his brows remained tightly knotted. ‘Mm. Yes. But, it doesn’t change that we are, in many ways, the same person. He used that very fact to convince me that I’m a monster, to convince me to hide.’

You pursed your lips at the reminder.

‘So… If I don’t believe he can change, then, it… means he was right about me, too' he said. His voice was deeply sombre.

‘Mig, that isn’t—I mean that isn’t entirely fair’ you said with an unsure shrug. ‘Like… Look, Miguel is a different person to you. I can see the argument that you were given the same, basic components at the start, right? But you're so different now. He's a.... dick, and you're... you! You're YOU! My Mig! The, most, perfect thing!'

Mig chuckled again, looking almost shy at your praise. ‘Just- humour me, please. It is for my own benefit, not just for his. I have to believe I am not doomed to be a bad person, and, I want to believe he isn’t either’ Mig insisted.

You weren’t convinced, sadly, but you did relent. You held up your hands and smiled as you slapped them down on his furry abdomen. ‘Okay. I mean I’d like for him to get better too, believe me, God it would save me SO much hassle!’

Mig purred, and at last a smile broke out onto his face. His cheeks lifted as he chuckled. ‘Yes. Me too. He—’

‘You ready to go?!’

You and Mig turned in unison as Jess called from the other side of the lobby. She was waving one arm over her head with the other cupped her mouth to make the sound carry. You could see that she was standing beside an open portal.

‘Shit… alright, time to go’ you said. You straightened out your suit and straightened his too, a motion he tried to return until you shooed him off.

‘No, no—I don’t need petting down, shh—I love you too. Right. You ready, Mig?’

He fixed his posture and nervously raised his claws. ‘Ah… yes. Yes. I am- ready to do, heroic activities. Yes’ he blurted in a fully monotone voice.

You buried your face in your palm. ‘Oh my god I love you so much you’re such a god damn dork—OKAY, lets go!’

You tried to strike a pose like you were trained to do but almost immediately tripped, so instead you went straight into climbing Mig’s back so he could take the lead. It was easy to look majestic while riding your enormous spider partner.

You clung tight to his fur as he scurried forward, and dragged you both through the open portal into this new and unknown world.

…

On the other side you thankfully landed safely, with Miguel angling his paws to slow the impact. As you eyes adjusted you realized quickly that you were on the top of some enormous building, and so you hopped down from Mig’s back to see the view.

This world was strange, far stranger than either Miguel’s or Mig’s or your's. Before you was the full, shining vista of New York, but this one had been entirely drowned in enormous neon plants. You could see flower heads in the distance that looks like normal flower heads up close, implying that they must be the size of a house in their own right, blooming and fluttering on the side of a high rise building that'd broken in half and was now leaning on another.

The sky above was also strange; it was red, darker on top and lighter as it drifted down towards the horizon, ending in a dull and foreboding pink beyond what the eye could see.

There was no sound. No cars, no people. Just the rustling of leaves in the wind.

You breathed in through your suit mask and turned to Mig. He was fixated on the red sky, his hand held out in front of his face.

‘You okay?’ you called up.

Mig nodded. ‘Yes… You- do you see these, particles, too?’ he asked. You followed his eyes and squinted at the air in front of your face. He was right. There were tiny, pink dots floating in the air, like dust particles, just barely viewable. You waved your hand and watched them bounce and dance as your fingers disrupted them.

‘Huh. Oh, weird. Yeah they um- they mentioned the pollen, it has... Like an overwhelming effect on anything with hormones. Aphrodisiac. Makes you lose it. It's why this worlds deserted now.’

‘Yes. I- believe we should leave here as soon as possible’ Mig said slowly. You didn’t argue.

You turned and leapt back up onto his back, digging your hands into his fur. You held on tight as he turned and descended the building via the stairway.

On a monitor in a dark and distant room, Miguel watched the blurry little figure of you and Mig strolled through the abandoned city. His eyes narrowed. ‘Go on’ he said, almost purring. ‘Go ahead. Fail, and then let me watch you get dragged out by your necks in a pathetic heap.’

The building was entirely empty, which made the sounds you heard all the more unnerving. You realized pretty quickly that the oversized plants filling the area would occasionally move, slithering across cracked windows and floors like great, fleshy, neon green snakes. The floors would creak like footsteps when no one was there, and occasionally you’d hear a low groaning as if the building itself was alive.

Mig began to walk slower so he could step over the vines. They hadn’t done anything violent, but, he’d rather be safe.

As you emerged out into the city from the ground the size of it became far more imposing. Seeing those giant flower buds from the top made them seem almost normal, but from the floor the shadow of that gaping botanical maw filling the sky made you feel utterly miniscule.

You drew your watch to your mouth and whispered into it. ‘Lyla- Lyla, have you got a hold on the guy who escaped?’

‘Yeeeppp.’

The little AI flashed up beside your head as Mig cautiously began to walk down the empty street. ‘You hopped in close. He’s been still for a while.’

‘Do you think he’s hurt?'

‘Nah, I mean- maybe. But I doubt it’ Lyla said with a yawn.

‘Why do you doubt it?’ Mig asked. She flickered over to glance him up and down as he walked.

‘My god you’re big, it always surprises me- uhhh I said I DOUBT it because he was wearing his suit when he jumped in which should keep him safe from the pollen.’

‘Okay. What are we dealing with then? A vulture, a symbiote, a prowler?’

‘Prowler. He’ll be wearing his suit but I think we removed his weapons when we brought him in, so, should be easy.’

‘Huh… I wonder if Miguel gave us an easy one deliberately’ you pondered to yourself. It seemed unlikely, but, maybe it was intentional? Maybe he was changing. ‘Okay, uh- thanks Lyla, we’ll call if we need anything else.’

You shut your watch and gently tapped for Mig’s attention. You didn’t speak, but you silently gestured for where he needed to go. He nodded and crept towards the building Lyla had pointed at.

As you approached the bottom floor it was empty, with broken windows allowing easy access to the inner rooms. It was unnervingly dark inside. The sun was too high overheard to reach inside, leaving nothing but a faint red glow broaching the edge of the dirty, vines covered concrete before it descended into shadow.

You tapped your watch to create a small beam of light. You carefully scanned the room from side to side, your eyes squinting to see through the gloom.

It was quiet. Too quiet. You could hear water dripping somewhere but couldn’t find the source. As Mig went to enter the dark he rustled his abdomen, signalling for you to jump. You hopped to the floor and in unison you both ducked. Together, you began to do a wide circle of the space.

‘Hello?’ you called, your voice echoing. You faintly saw Mig rustle with discomfort at you speaking, so you gestured for him to continue instead.

‘Sir! We’re from the society’ Mig cried. ‘I know that you were- reluctant, to come with us, but you were at far more risk here.’

You were about halfway in now. You were descending into the thick of the vines.

‘This universe is abandoned. There is no way home without us. If you come quietly, we can—’

Midway through speaking the vines were suddenly cut right above your head, and in a flurry of chaotic movement and sound you were thrown across the room.

‘SHIT—HEY!’

The unseen opposition dived forward and pinned your newly downed body to the floor, choking it out against one of the vines. You squirmed and kicked but you’d been taken off guard too fast.

‘GIVE ME THE WATCH!’

A deep voice echoed from behind the attackers mask. Shit, you thought, this must be the guy.

‘GIVE ME THE—’

Just as he’d tackled you the Prowler variant was tackled by Mig. In a blur of red and black fur your partner barrelled across the room and hooked the smaller man by the nape, and with nothing more than the strength of his neck he threw him up into the ceiling and then back down to the floor.

A low moan filled the air as you scrambled to stand.

‘Oh…. Fuck.’ You coughed and spluttered as Mig prowled towards the downed man. His venom was glowing where it’d leaked down his jaw, its viscosity appearing neon green in the dark. He had his claws raised.

Back in Nueva, Miguel continued to watch. He had his arms folded, his body stiff and unmoving, his eyes unblinking.

He was waiting for it.

‘Fuck… urgh, okay, um—you got the light cage, babe?’ you asked. You were wheezing hard from being pinned, and while Mig should have focused on containing the man on the floor he couldn’t help but be drawn to you.

‘Mi arañita? Are you okay?’

As Mig turned you raised your hand. You were about to say yes, you were fine. You were about to comfort him and remind him of what you had to do.

You didn’t get the chance, though.

The Prowler collected himself too quickly, and in a blind panic he leapt up and released the claws on his suit. He dove at Mig, the most obvious threat, hoping to get in a stab from behind, but luckily his claws weren’t strong enough to pierce.

He latched onto Mig’s back and he instantly began rustling and bucking, his size allowing him to quickly detach the attacker. You hastily threw a web out to pin him down to the floor again.

‘SHIT- Shit, baby, did he get you?! Did he—’

You froze. Mig had turned in an attempt to feel the back of his suit, and now he was facing the opposite direction to you. He was showing you his back. He was showing you, clear as day, the enormous cut marks in the plastic hide.

Slowly, Mig stopped. His arms fell to his sides, and he rolled his head to stare at you over his shoulder. His eyes were glowing the most unnatural pink.

‘Mig?’ you stammered.

He grunted, hard, and suddenly seemed to go down. His legs began to shake as his hands flew to his head. ‘MM—MM—’

You felt your whole body go cold. You knew what the air in this universe did. You quickly rushed to try and grapple him, hoping to either pin him with your webs or patch up the suit, anything your frazzled mind could think of, but Mig was quickly losing control.

‘MIG! Mig, hey! Stay down—let me help—’

‘AH—’ His body rustled violently as he panted. It burned. It was the most unbearable heat he’d ever felt, seeping through his veins like literal fire. His started drooling venom into the inside of the suit, coating the seethrough plastic on the front. ‘RRH—’

On the other side of the multi-universe, Miguel snorted. He didn’t smile, nor did he show any kind of outward joy. He just snorted.

What a shame that Lyla hadn’t been told about that prowler’s suit still had its claws intact when it was taken in. Claws that, while not deadly, were capable of still ripping an important piece of fabric. A suit, perhaps.

Now you’d let the man escape into a dangerous universe. You’d have to crawl back with your out of control boyfriend. He went to turn when a cry drew his attention back to the screen.

Mig, in his panic, had pushed you back across the room.

‘DON’T—DON’T COME NEAR ME’ he cried, ‘I CAN’T- HURT YOU—ARGH!’

Miguel frowned.

You were carefully shifting yourself up from the debris. You weren’t hurt, it hadn’t been a hard push, but just like the Prowler he hadn’t accounted for his own claws. They were painfully extended, viciously sharp on every end, and in just lightly pushing you with the last of his strength he’d ripped three big holes in your own suit.

You felt your heart thundering.

In a whimpering panic you tried to block the holes with your hand but it was too late. All too soon you felt the pollen in your nose, your brain, your blood, your body heating into overdrive. You were doubled over as if in physical pain as the urge curdled inside you.

‘MM—’

Miguel stared at the screen, his eye twitching just a little. No, wait, he’d planned for one person to be able to call for back up. He’d planned this out perfectly, hadn’t he? Why was this happening?

‘Argh… Mig…’

You mewled pathetically as you crawled across the floor. You were throbbing everywhere, lightheaded from the blood flowing where it wasn’t supposed to, your insides clenching and pulsing and squeezing around nothing to a point that left you breathless.

Mig was no better. He was digging his claws directly into the concrete in an attempt to stay sane, to stay alert, but it wasn’t working. He drooled pools of spit and venom onto the floor as he ripped his suit aside completely. He had to bite. He had to pin. He had to unload. He could think of nothing rational in that moment. ‘AH—AH---’

In the panic your target had also cut himself free from the web. Still suited, still sober, he watched you writhe with narrowed eyes. He approached, curious, and delivered one kick to your exposed gut. You went down hard but didn’t have the strength to get back up off the floor.

‘YOU-- ARGH!’

Mig dove at the man and nearly clawed him to pieces, but the impact of the sweet, thick, dizzying scent was making it hard to see or focus. He swung blindly, teeth snapping, as Prowler backed away.

On the floor you whimpered, unable to move an inch from the multi-faceted pain.

‘Wait, wait, no—’

As he watched Miguel felt his confidence beginning to slip. You’d call for backup, right? You would. Yo had to.

He thought about rushing in, but, if he did that, you’d know he’d been watching. Wouldn’t that look suspicious? Plus, it would ruin his plan.

His plan… What, exactly, was that plan anyway, some little niggling part of his brain asked?

‘FUCK!’

Your cry drew Miguel back to the screen.

You were writhing on the floor as you struggled to breathe. You and Mig couldn’t even reach each other. He was now consumed by the primal, lustful urge to protect his mate, to fight an opponent, which was keeping him in the thralls of trying to spear your assailant on his claws.

No one had time to pull either of you out, and that Prowler was still hellbent on killing you both to protect himself.

‘No, no, no—’

The blurry image of your body on the floor began to distort. Miguel slammed the monitor but it just continued to fade.

He began to pant hard. He hadn’t wanted this. Not this. He just wanted Mig to fail his first mission, he never wanted anyone to get hurt. He’d just wanted an excuse to remove him. He didn’t want this. He didn’t. He’d planned it perfectly. This was supposed to work. It HAD to work. He was doing the right thing. He was smart, he was capable, he was rational—

Right?

The more he thought about it, the more his stomach turned. Wait, but, he’d released that symbiote, hadn’t he? He’d jumped in the way, yes, but it could have caused Mig real harm. It could have caused you real harm.

‘Oh no’ he whispered. ‘No, no, no…’

One final, horrible thought filled his head: What was wrong with him?

‘Every day I have to fight to be good.’

His words to Peter rang in his head as he paced back and forth. How had he forgotten that? The simple reason, that he really hated his variant? Because he was broken. They were both broken. Both of them.

He swung back to the screen. He had to go, right? He had to go, he had to go and extract you and Mig.

All that anger, that resentment that he’d made righteous, it was fighting the one part of him that he clung to. The part that wanted to save you, no matter the cost. The part that was still good.

He told himself that this self-sacrificial nature, that was him. The REAL him. That was who he was beneath the dirt and the dust and the bitterness. But, no. As he stared at you clutching the floor, struggling to breathe, he knew it wasn’t.

It was all him.

‘Shit.’

Without wasting a second, without even grabbing a suit, Miguel pulled up a portal to that universe and dove in headfirst.

The pollen hit him like a physical punch to the gut. He felt it coiling around every hormone in his touch-starved body, pushing his brain into override. As he hit the road right before the store you were in he had to curl in on himself just to regain the ability to breath.

‘MM—Argh, fuck—come on—you’ve dealt with this before!’ he seethed.

With fangs dripping he clawed his way into the building. To his utmost relief he saw you almost instantly, still curled up on the floor.

‘COME ON!’ he barked. Miguel grabbed you under the arm and began to drag, though it was slow progress. He kept having to pause and bite his own hands in order to temper the unnatural urges filling his brain.

You were utterly useless at this point. Your body was limp in his grip, moaning and whimpering and shaking. ‘Mig.... My Mig—’

‘He’s… fuck—MIGUEL!’ He turned and screamed into the dark as the plants whipped and writhed.

Mig burst through the wall with a violent crack, his paws skidding on the ground. The person you’d been chasing was frantically scrambling to avoid his open seething maw and swinging claws, like a rabbit fleeing a wolf. With the last of his strength Miguel threw a light cage at the panicking Prowler before depoying a web at Mig’s legs, helping to at least stun him into stopping.

‘Ah… Okay, HERE! OVERE HERE! EXTRACTION!’ Miguel cried.

Mig jerked his head up so fast it snapped. He saw him holding your limp body and immediately his eyes dilated into slits. He hissed, spraying venom across the tiles.

‘I’M GETTING YOU OUT OF HERE!’

Miguel pulled up a portal and threw you into it before returning to grab the downed Prowler. He used it like a toy, lurning Mig up. The enormous man broke the webs around his legs with terrifying ease, and once back on his spider legs he stormed towards him.

Miguel led him straight through the portal at his back.

With a soft, otherworldly thwap, the portal disappeared. The world of plants was plunged into silence once more, and whatever chaos ensued, would ensue in Miguel’s office, back where it had all started.

Link to next part

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #smut #drider #arachnophilia #monster human relationship #drider miguel o'hara #smut with plot #miguel o'hara au

127 notes · View notes

screamingatanemptyroom · 8 months

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 29- The Higher Realm

Next part. A little shorter, but I think part 30 or 31 may be the end of the official story, not counting any side parts. Wish me luck!

Masterpost linked here

_____________________

“Adonis is here.”

As I processed his words, I watched the glowing words: “Soul transfer 59% complete.“ fade away. Once they disappeared, I felt a surge in the strange dark power with me. I looked down at my hands, seeing a barely visible power coiling around them.

Finally, I broke past 49%! And I can sense this power better than before. It’s definitely growing, whatever it is... even if I can't use it still. Hopefully this become something useful!

“Bel? Are you okay?” Liam’s questions broke me from my thoughts, and I looked back at him, the brief flash of dark power fading back into nothingness.

“I’m okay. So Adonis is here? Already?” At the grim news, I rubbed my hands together in excitement. “FINALLY! It’s time to unleash my super secret trap!”

“Your trap?” Liam rubbed his shoulder, likely still feeling the pain from his gunshot wound from the lower realm. “Is this what you’ve been sneaking off lately to set up?”

“Yep!” I grabbed Liam’s hand and pulled him over to a carefully marked cleared area just far enough away from the cave to protect it. It may not be much, but it’s Liam’s home… my home. I’d rather Adonis stay far, far away from it.

Liam was staring down at our clasped hands with an absentminded smile, and didn’t seem to pay attention to our direction. Looking around once we stopped, he was clearly confused. “Why are we stopping here?”

“This is where we want him to find us.” I said with a confident grin.

At my words, Liam gripped my hand tightly, as if afraid that I would be taken away. His anxiety was almost palpable.

I tried to reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Nothing good can ever stay here, Bel.” His eyes were filled with a sadness close to despair. “No matter how much I’ve tried to prevent it, everything here eventually withers and dies.”

“So do you want me to go back with Fart Sniffer McGee?”

He let out an involuntary snort at the silly, insulting name. “No I didn’t say that! I just…”

“Well, perhaps you should…”

A new voice spoke out as Adonis walked out from between the trees, standing in the small clearing in front of us. Seeing me, he smiled, a cocky expression. “Hello, Bel! Looks like your tamed monster recognizes reality better than you. Isn’t it time you admit it too?”

“There’s only one monster here," I said with a polite, distant smile. " And it’s not Liam.”

Adonis frowned. “Don’t deflect, Bel. The truth remains.”

“Truth?”

“What this villain said is correct: Nothing good can survive here. You don’t… you can’t belong here… you belong in the Higher Real. Even this beast knows it. You belong with me!”

“So you knew we were talking about you?” I turned to Liam, chuckling, “Look at him, so readily accepting of the new name Fart Sniffer McGee.”

“Very self-aware.” Liam nodded solemnly.

“Personal growth.” We both applauded politely.

He didn't seem amused at our antics. “SHUT UP!”

“Ooh, I don’t think he likes it.”

Liam shrugged. “We can think of others.”

“Ooh! A new one every day!” We threw out a few, each one more childish and ridiculous than the last. Once we reached “Captain Bum Nugget” however, Adonis finally snapped.

“I SAID SHUT UP!” He took a step forward with a threatening gesture, and I let out a shout of victory.

“FINALLY, YOU HIT THE MARK!” I quickly pulled a rope on the ground, and a net holding a load of large smelly... material... fell. Adonis was quickly covered head to toe, and was knocked to the ground by the weight of the net and its contents.

“…”

There was stunned silence, but it was quickly broken by my laughter. “That’s what you get! Did you really think you could waltz right into OUR realm without consequences?! Enjoy being smelly!”

I looked over at Liam, expecting him to agree with me… but instead he was staring at the… material… coating Adonis with a horrified expression. He then sat down on a nearby stump and slowly put his head in his hands.

“Bel…” He sighed as he spoke. “Do you know what that is?”

“It’s feces!” I answered cheerfully. “I assume from some sort of large beast, although I’ve never seen anything in this realm big enough to make poop like this! It took forever to collect it and set up this trap.” I thought for a moment. “It’s strange though, this has weird flecks in it, almost like tiny jewels… such an odd thing. Do you know which animal…?” I trailed off as I saw Liam’s shoulders shaking. Is he crying?

Liam finally lifted his head, laughing uncontrollably, his face bright red. After a long moment, he finally said “Bel, it’s very creative revenge, but… next time, why don’t we work together to plan it, okay?” His tone seemed resigned.

“…Sure.” I hadn’t expected such a big reaction from him, but quickly agreed.

Adonis finally recovered from his shock. “Bel, it’s time to go home.” His voice was low and intense, but the intimidation factor was incredibly dialed down by his feces-covered appearance.

“I AM home, Adonis.” I grabbed Liam’s hand again. “I’m staying here with Liam. In fact… we’ve just agreed to get married!”

Adonis lunged forward, but we took a huge step back, avoiding him.

“Cut the crap, Bel!”

“Ooh… poor choice of words!” I tried to high five Liam, who hesitated for a long moment, and then finally gave me one with another sigh.

Adonis was undisturbed. “Joke all you like. You can’t change reality with quips and funny words.” His face was distorted by a snarl. “I don’t know how you’re still alive, but even if you’ve found a temporary measure, it won’t last forever. You are a heroine. THE heroine. Your very nature rejects and is rejected by this realm. The longer you stay, the weaker you become. Even if you force yourself to remain here, then the realm itself will begin to destabilize and fade.”

His words struck like a blow. “You’re lying.” I whispered, wishing I believed my own words.

Adonis chuckled grimly. “I don’t lie, Bel. You and I don’t agree at all on a lot of things, but you know me well enough to know I don’t lie.”

“That doesn’t mean you tell all of the truth.” Liam finally spoke up, glaring.

Adonis didn’t back down. “Shut up, Monster.”

“Stop calling him that!”

“Silly, innocent, Bel.” Adonis laughed at my outburst. “What do you think Liam is?”

“Shut up.” I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

“I already told you: I don’t lie. I call Liam a monster because that’s exactly what he is.” He grinned. “ A literal monster. Don’t believe me? Just ask him.”

I felt Liam shaking beside me and gripped his hand tighter. I knew Liam wasn’t human, but I don’t want to learn the truth from Adonis. Which means I have one option left:

“Yeah, I know.” I rolled my eyes, and stated nonchalantly. “Liam told me a while ago.”

Bluffing.

Adonis was taken aback by my confidence, but soon his eyes narrowed, studying me. “You don’t know. He wouldn’t tell you!”

“Think what you want.” I shrugged. “But I’ve been here a while… since you kidnapped me and dumped me here, by the way… and it would be impossible for Liam to hide his true self for this long.”

“You…”

“I know everything.” I lied, knowing almost nothing. “And I don’t care. I’m staying with him anyways.”

Adonis was silent for a long moment, looking at us both, his gaze dropped, focusing on our clasped hands.

“FINE.” He turned around, and I tried not to chuckle as he trailed poop on the ground.

But his next words stilled any desire to laugh.

“This place will either kill you or destroy itself. The end will come sooner than you expect. If you don’t care about all the countless lower realms and all their innocent inhabits out there that you are condemning to destruction by staying here, then at least care about your own well being, or your friend’s, as he needs this place to stay alive. If it fades... well, you know. I’ll come back to collect you once you’ve come to your senses.” He shook his head, and I felt a growing sense of dread. “Give up, Bel. You must accept your fate.”

He was gone, and Liam and I were left alone.

I let go of Liam’s hand, stepping away, and he reached out as if to catch me, his hand pausing mid-motion, his face pale.

His terrified eyes met mine. “Bel… I can explain.” Liam’s voice was hoarse, his eyes red, his hand still in the air, shaking. “Please… I’ll tell you everything. Just… just don’t hate me, please…not you too.”

My heart broke at his pain. I reached out, grabbed his outstretched hand and pulled him closer, hugging him tightly. “I don’t hate you.” I could feel his entire body trembling. “Not even a little.”

He stepped backwards, a small nervous smile on his face. “You say that now but… You don’t know my secret yet.”

“No matter WHAT you are, Liam. You are you. And that’s all that matters.” I held a finger against his lips as he started to speak again. “That being said. Why don’t you tell me in the morning? You and I are both tired, and I don’t really feel like hearing your biggest secret after Adonis the Poop King threatened us. Tell me in the morning, IF you really want me to know."

Liam’s smile grew, his whole expression lighter. “The morning then, I’ll tell you for sure.”

We separated to get some sleep.

_____________________

Fragments of worlds flashed through my dreams, one after the next, so quickly I couldn’t grasp what was happening. The few scenes it lingered on made me wish it hadn’t.

…

He was on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound. The growls of zombies could be heard in the distance. My eyes were blurred with tears.

All I could see was blood, too much blood.

“Liam.” His name escaped my lips.

“Sorry, I have to go first.”

More blood.

“Next time, let’s get married? “

…

Before I could respond I was in a new world, facing him once more. He was larger, more muscular, but too pale. Laying on a bed. Two small puncture wounds were visible on his neck.

“Liam… wake up.”

My hand, shaking, tried to check a pulse, hoping, praying to find it.

There was only the stillness of death.

…

World after world, flipping through too fast to remember. Finally, it stilled once more.

“Why do you always die, Liam?” I was crying once more.

He laughed a sad sound, but I couldn’t see him. His voice was above me. “That’s the fate of a villain, Bel. That’s the fate of a monster. I was never meant to be happy. I was only ever meant to be sacrificed for others’ happiness.” He faded away to nothing, and I was alone in the dark.

“Liam.”

*** YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE***

The blue words hung there, threateningly, and I backed away. The words followed, leaving me unable to run away even if I wanted to.

_____________________

“LIAM!”

I woke up in a cold sweat, struggling to sense what was real and what wasn’t. Breathing deeply, I pushed myself up, getting out of the bed, moving towards the center of our cave.

I wanted to find Liam.

I searched all the rooms, however, and he wasn’t there.

Panicking a bit, I walked out of the cave.

Thud.

Something small and white fell from the sky and landed at my feet. I looked closer. It appeared to be a white dove. Its neck broken. Blood pooled underneath it, almost staining my feet.

“What…?” Where did the dove come from, how had it survived in this realm? Why did it die?

As I watched on in horror, the blood moved and formed into words:

YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE,

I ran away. I was no longer sure if I was still trapped within the dream or if reality itself had gone insane. Nothing else mattered but my goal:

I needed to see Liam.

“Liam!” I called out again, seeing some traces along the ground and following the trail. I could hear movement up ahead, and Liam’s voice, talking seemingly to himself. The voice was familiar and not at the same time, spoken with a deep harsh tone.

“Okay, I just have to be calm, Bel said she doesn’t care what I am…. NO!… this is stupid, I should run away… but I can’t run away, that would mean leaving Bel behind… Maybe, I could take her with me? … YEAH! ... But wait... that defeats the purpose of running away to keep her from finding out what I am!”

I heard a loud growl and a thud. The sounds didn’t seem human. I slowed down, getting a glimpse of an enormous dark something beyond the trees in a large clearing ahead as his voice continued.

“Okay, just tell her the truth, and explain all the benefits… free heating source... free rides flying in the sky… umm… something else… Come on, Liam! Think, think!”

More crashes sounded out, and I hesitated to move into the clearing. What will I find?

I thought of my dream, of Liam in many forms dying in front of me. I thought of the bloody message scrawled out in front of the cave. I can’t back away now.

“Liam!” I called out, trying to keep my voice from trembling. “I’m here! Can I come into the clearing?”

I didn’t want to force him, especially hearing his anxious rants.

Liam let out a shriek, the sound mixed with a strange inhuman growl. “BEL?! Umm… so...you want to come into the clearing… I’m a little indisposed at the moment…”

“Liam.” My voice was soft now, but in the dead silence of the forest, I knew he could hear me. “I want to see you. I won’t run away.”

“…” The silence dragged on and on. Just as I was about to give up and walk away…

“You can come.” He sounded scared, resigned, but at the same time, determined.

“Are you sure…?”

“I’m sure.”

I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Immediately I looked up, tilting my head back all the way upwards just to see his face. He was large, not quite as large as the ancient beast from previous the lower realm. If then he had been the size of a mountain, now he was the size of a three story house.

He was darker than the night sky above him, with shining scales interlocking in a tight armor.

Spikes rose up in a long row, bristling, protecting his back.

Large wings, with stretched leathery skin flapped nervously behind him.

A long winding neck, leading upward.

Teeth, enormous and deadly, protruded from an elongated scaly jaw.

And looking straight at me, unblinking, were his eyes, the vertical slit pupil set within a wonderful, familiar dark blue. The face seemed unsuited for showing emotion, yet I could see everything he felt within the depths of his eyes.

Nervousness.

Excitement.

Caring.

It WAS Liam.

Liam was a dragon.

I hesitated for a moment, and in that silence, I saw the fear bloom brightly within his eyes. His head tucked in, hiding underneath his wings.

“Liam… you’re a dragon?” I phrased it as a question, but he could be nothing else. “Wow, that’s really cool!”

"Really?" Slowly, his eyes peeked out from his wings. “You’re not just saying that?” It felt strange to hear Liam’s voice coming from this form, but it was the familiar sound that reassured me as well.

“Nope! I think you look very strong and awesome!” I reached out a hand and moved forward, Liam stuck out his head close, allowing me to touch the side of his face. The black shiny scales seemed softer to the touch than I had expected, the surface cool against my palm.

“You really don’t care? Even though I’m a monster?”

“I’d rather be in the company of a dragon like you than the kind of monster that Adonis is.” I shrugged. “I guess that says a lot about me.”

“Thank you, Bel.” His voice was filled with relief, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I settled in, asking, “Have you always been a dragon? Or did you start out human?”

"Always." Liam crouched down, keeping his head low towards the ground so I didn’t have to bend my neck to see him. “This is what I am. I’ve been like this since I was old enough to remember anything.”

“Were you always here, in this realm?”

Liam let out an angry growl. “No. I came from a different realm. One where dragons and humans existed together. I was young… very young, when I was taken away. Dragons tend to be solitary creatures, but typically they protect their young until they reach adulthood.” He sighed. “My parents, however, died right after my birth, killed in a large battle with humans. After that, I was being raised by my grandfather. He was amazing! He taught me what it meant to be a dragon.”

“Your grandfather raised you?” Is he…” I trailed off, unable to finish the question.

“Dead.” Liam’s voice was flat. "The System came to collect me. My grandfather tried to stop it… he was destroyed, along with my entire realm.” Two golden tears dropped from the dragon’s eyes. “I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t save anyone.”

“The System?”

“I don’t know what it is. It appeared as bright blue words written across the sky when I saw it. It’s what makes the portals… what creates the missions we see in the lower realms. It controls seemingly everything but at the same time seems to be interested in nothing. I don’t know if it’s a god or the devil or something else entirely… but I watched its power as it destroyed my realm.”

Bright blue words? Shuddering, I thought of the counter that only I could see. Is that the system too? I reached out, trying to hug the enormous dragon head. “I’m sorry Liam.”

“It told me I was born to be the ultimate villain, and that all others would derive their fate from me.” He sighed. “It said that the classic story was that of a hero, a princess, and the monster that kidnaps the princess. My fate was to separate them, and then be destroyed to allow for a happy ending.” He looked down at me. “Then I woke up here, alone except the occasional creature that tries to survive… they never do, not for long. This world slowly destroys them. Of course, most nights, portals would open up and drag me in.”

“Liam…”

“You saw my mission last time. They’re all like that. Lose everything, get severely injured… die. Every single one of them. The story of the lower realms can’t be complete unless there is a satisfyingly bad end to the villain.”

“Did you always follow the mission?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Not at first. Especially when I was still very young, I struggled against it, tried to avoid it. I would run and hide and stay away. But then the lower realm would be destroyed, I would wake up here and the next world would open up shortly. Finally, I started to complete the mission as quickly as possible, so I could just go back home, and no one else would get hurt.”

I wished I couldn’t imagine it, but I could. I had been to countless lower realms with Adonis. How many of them had Liam been there, dying, getting hurt, just so that he could stop suffering and come back here? How many times has he chosen to die painfully, rather than let a lower realm be destroyed? I remembered him drinking the poison when we first met, his nonchalant expression at his upcoming demise.

“Bel, don’t cry.”

“I’m not…” My voice paused, as I reached up and felt tears running down my face. “I…”

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

“It’s NOT okay!”

“It’s my fate.”

“SCREW FATE!”

*** Soul transfer 73% complete. ***

I ignored the words, feeling slightly sick sight of the glowing blue letters. If this is the system, this… thing… kidnapped Liam and forced him into this never-ending hell. I can’t trust anything it says.

Liam laughed, his eyes happy. “Yeah, screw fate.”

I touched his face again. “I will protect you. I won’t let fate, or the System, or even Adonis win. We’ll find a way for me to stay here, and then find a way to avoid our fates AND save the lower realms.”

“…”

“What you don’t believe me?”

He blinked. “You still want to stay here?”

“Yeah… aren’t we getting married? Typically married people stay in the same realm of existence.”

“YOU STILL WANT TO MARRY ME?”

“Of course! Didn't I already ask you in the last lower realm? Out of the two people I’ve met in the higher realms, you are definitely the best husband material.”

“I’m a dragon.”

“And the other choice is Adonis.”

“… Fair.” He chuckled. “I believe you, but promise me: if we do anything to go against fate… let’s do it together.”

“Deal. Now let’s head back.”

“First, you’ll need blood.” He raised a claw, and bit it, dripping golden drops into a small bowl. He then was covered in a black smoke, and a much smaller, much more human Liam emerged and picked up the bowl, walking towards me with a smile. “Here you go.”

“….”

“Bel?”

“…”

“Umm….”

I finally forced out. “LIAM, YOU ARE NAKED!”

“Shoot!” He shoved the bowl into my hands and grabbed pants that had been neatly folded nearby, his face bright red. “Sorry, I forgot.” He paused and looked down at himself. “Everything I have should be normal for a human, right?”

“Liam… It’s fine… yes, you’re normal.” I coughed as he grinned with relief. “There’s nothing wrong, I just… was surprised.” I turned away and drank my bowl of blood, waiting until the sounds of changing had stopped to turn back towards him. He took the bowl and wiped it clean, and then held out his hand for mine.

As we held hands, he laughed again. “Sorry, I forgot you get shocked when I get naked suddenly.”

“This is the first time this has happened, though?”

He paused at my words, his eyes confused. “No… it’s happened before. You were an elf…” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “I can’t remember clearly.”

“Maybe you were flashing some other person?” I raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m certain it was you.” Was his firm answer.

“Okay, sure… so, Liam?”

“Yes?”

“I have a very important question.”

“What’s that?”

“Was it YOUR poop that I dropped on top of Adonis?”

“…”

“Liam?”

“OH LOOK AT THE TIME! Let’s go home!” And with that, Liam dragged me out of the clearing and back to our cave, with me laughing the entire way.

_____________________

When we arrived, we came across the dead dove once more. Liam stopped in his tracks, staring down at it silently.

“Actually, this was part of why I was looking for you in the first place. It just flew down out of nowhere, and killed itself here.” I stared at the words written in coagulated blood. “Who would do this?”

“The System.” He spit the words out like a curse.

“Why doves… I thought it spoke in blue glowing letters?”

Liam was still staring down at the dove, and for a moment, I could see the dragon he was behind his human appearing eyes. “Doves have meaning.”

“Meaning?”

“Often a messenger of the divine, or for all-powerful beings… they are also seen as a symbol of peace. So to have one come from the heavens and kill itself, for the message to be written in blood….

“It’s a declaration of war.” I shuddered. “It wants to force us to accept our fate. Me to go back to the Higher Realm and play heroine with Adonis… you…”

“To suffer and die in an endless sacrifice for the happy ending.”

I squeezed his hand. “Neither is going to happen.”

He didn’t look away from the bloody message. “I hope you’re right.”

____________________

Days passed.

Adonis, unfortunately, had not lied. Over time, Liam’s blood became less and less effective. I stayed in bed for most of the day, only able to do brief outings into the forest before having to rest once more. Liam grew increasingly frantic, increasing the dose and would have tried to drain himself dry if I hadn’t stopped him.

But I wasn’t the only one affected.

The edges of the realm were starting to fade into darkness. It took a while for us to realize, but when we came up to the nothingness, the emptiness where forest had once been, I was forced to confront the truth: I was dying. The realm was dying. I couldn’t stay.

But Liam couldn’t leave, except for the lower realms.

The portals became much less frequent, but I went with him each time. We tried to find ways to fix the worlds that completed both our missions, I tried my best to protect Liam from getting hurt.

We did not see Adonis again. He seemed to be biding his time.

Or he was so mad at Operation: Poop Trap that he is spending some time away from us. Either way, not too sad about it.

Finally, one day came. I couldn’t get out of bed at all. Liam stayed by my side, feeding me meat and mixed vegetables he had cooked. His cooking skills were fantastic now, but my failing body could barely appreciate it. I tried my best to eat, anyways, hoping not to worry him.

“Tell me what to do, Bel.” He whispered, feeding me another bite with a roughly carved spoon. “I don’t want to send you back there… but I can’t watch you die.”

“What if I would rather die than go back?” I asked. “Would you knock me out and send me anyways?”

Liam hung his head. “No. I won’t force you. I know better than most what its like to live with no choices. I can't send you into the same existence. If you choose to die...” His eyes filled with tears. “I’ll choose to go with you.”

“No…”

“That’s MY choice, Bel.”

I sighed. “Well, let’s try to avoid that ending then.” I started coughing, unable to take another bite. Liam out away the food with a solemn expression.

“Do you have a plan?”

“I’ve fixed countless broken stories. I always have a plan.” I tried to grin, but was too tired to maintain it for long. “I just need to make it to the next lower realm.”

I thought of the glowing blue counter I could see, and the dark power that even now hovered around my fingertips.

Hopefully this works. Everything depends on finding the right type of lower realm. I don’t have much time left, so I really hope the next one will have what I need. For both of our sakes.

After the discussion we fell silent, but stayed side by side, enjoying being together. A deeply uncertain future faced us, but at least one thing was true:

We were facing it together.

_____________________

That night, a new portal opened up. Liam, carrying me, stepped up to the red-rimmed glowing opening.

"Are you sure you want to come?" He asked in a worried tone.

"I'm sure. Once we're inside, I'll try to find you as soon as I can."

"Focus on being safe, first."

I smiled, resting a pale hand against his face. "I'll find a way for us to escape fate, Liam. I promise. The key to it is in this realm." It has to be.

His arms tightened around me. "As long as we're together."

"Together." I agreed.

He stepped into the portal quickly. As always, we were separated immediately after crossing the portal and fell into darkness.

I woke up, confused, looking all around me.

I was in water. Fish swam all around me, sunlight filtering through the waves and bouncing around them. Coral littered the ground, seaweed waving nearby, an intricate underwater garden. It was beautiful. A paradise.

And that’s when I realized I was breathing underwater.

Hmm… that’s not normal. I looked down at my arms. They seemed human enough, my hair coiling around my body. At least I’m not a fish or a sea monster. I thought, looking at the rest of me.

Then I saw my tail.

Ah crap.

I was a mermaid.

#writing #pfts #please fix the story #fantasy #liam and bel #this lower realm is the last one before the end.#hopefully next week will be when I finish this!!!!#wish me luck

99 notes · View notes