#if I ever do voice clips of my OCs please imagine them all just a little lower than that but especially aubree lmao

[blujayonthewing]

obviously your voice sounds different in your own head than it does in a recording but I'm going back through my recording of a session of Aubree's campaign looking for something I didn't write down at the time and it's especially weird hearing Aubree talk because for whatever reason, moreso with her than any of my other OCs, her voice feels like it should be a lot deeper than this

[latetaektalk]

(he)art thief | jjk [i, preview]

“jungkook is charming, kind, smart, and funny. jungkook is the guy to fall in love with. he is perfect in every sense, except that he is also a member of a notorious heist group and only getting close to you to steal from you. but what does he do when he starts to fall for you? who does he choose? his brothers or you?

genre: heist! AU, thief! jungkook, art curator daughter! oc, ocean’s! AU, fluff, angst, sexual themes/implied smut (in later chapters)

pairing: jungkook x female reader

estimated word count: 35 to 40k

warnings: cursing/swearing, a bit of alcohol consumption

a/n: this is loosely based off the ocean’s film! to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask/message! also, gureum is jungkook’s dog! and thank you to movie club for helping me come up with this amazing title!!

coming sunday, may 30th 2021  

Jungkook avoids playgrounds.

Does so because when he was at the tender age of just seven, he fell off a swing. He ended up in the hospital (his first but not last visit); seven stitches, his mother told him, but he could swear it was a million.

Needless to say, Jungkook has been avoiding playgrounds like the plague ever since.

But here he is, in the middle of one, dog leash in his hand, and heart pounding in his chest so violently it might just explode.

A mob of boys runs past him, all of them no older than six—which means that, for the most part at least, they’re harmless—but still, Jungkook flinches. It’s embarrassing, even more so because Gureum turns and stares at him. If one of them should flinch, it should be Gureum, with him being a dog and Jungkook a full grown adult, but God, today is just not his day. He’s stressed! Out of it! Nervous! A wreck-

“Did you just flinch?”

Jungkook feels his heart drop. Fuck, he thought he walked out of sight!

“No, I didn’t, Tae,” he hisses, pressing the earpiece further into his ear.

“You flinched! We can still see you- ah, okay, not anymore. But we saw that-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I definitely did not flinch-”

“Denying it is pointless. We all saw it. Back me up here, Jimin.”

“You definitely flinched.”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, is about to walk back to the car and tell them that they must be hallucinating because he definitely did not flinch when-

“Can you see her already, Kook?” Namjoon asks and for a moment, Jungkook forgot why he is here, you.

He looks around himself, and it doesn’t take him long to find you, sitting on a bench, under a big tree, soft shadows dancing on your skin.

“Yeah, I-I see her,” Jungkook says under his breath.

“Okay, good. I’m gonna need you to focus up then,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook nods like Namjoon could see him.

“Yeah, if you screw this up, it’s your fault if we end up in jail-”

“Tae!” Namjoon warns, and judging from the ‘ow’ that follows, someone punched him. Jungkook’s guess is Jimin.

“What? I’m just saying-”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you come,” Namjoon mumbles and runs a hand down his face. “Hey, Kook, don’t listen to Tae, yeah? He’s just messing with you.”

“Yeah… I know,” Jungkook mutters, and he means it. He really does know that Taehyung is messing with him, but there’s a part of him that takes it to heart, that is worried sick about how he’s going to fuck this up and be the reason for why they all end up in jail.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” Jimin cuts in, taking the phone from Namjoon. “We’ve got your back. All you have to do is repeat after me, say what I say. You’ve got this. Remember what I taught you?”

“Always smile and laugh and never talk about yourself. Keep the conversation about the other person because people love talking about themselves,” Jungkook repeats, and looks at you again, heart heavy in his chest.

He shouldn’t feel like this, wishes he wouldn’t. But he can’t help it. This isn’t how he imagined he’d meet you. Jungkook thought he’d meet you at some fancy event, sipping expensive champagne, or at some luxury clothing store maxing out your parents’ credit card—after all, your mother is a world famous art curator. But instead you spend your time at playgrounds, babysitting.

There’s actually no reason for Jungkook to be this nervous. Jimin did practise with him this exact scenario, but he can’t help but think that with a flute in his hands and some alcohol buzzing through his system, he’d feel more comfortable. But here he is, in the middle of a sea of children.

“Kook, do you copy?”

“What? Sorry, I wasn’t…” Jungkook pauses. He shouldn’t admit that he wasn’t listening.

“Get your head in the game, please,” Namjoon tells him over the earpiece.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’m here,” Jungkook says and starts to walk again even though he still feels fucking lost as a goddamn adult at a playground. Gureum follows him when he tugs on the dog leash.

“Okay, good. Just- just try your best,” Namjoon says, voice a bit muffled. “You’ve got this.”

Jungkook could swear that there’s a waiver to his words.

“Don’t worry. We’re here,” Taehyung tells him before Jungkook can think about it too much, distracting him from the quiver he heard.

He stops behind a tree, close enough for Gureum to spot you, but not close enough for you to spot them. His knees crack when he kneels down to stroke Gureum’s ear.

“Hey, Gureum? I’m gonna unleash you in a second and then I’m gonna need you to run towards,” Jungkook points as discreetly as possible to you, “her, yeah? Just like we practised? Remember? Remember how you ran towards Seok and Yoongi? Do it exactly like that again, okay? If you do, I’ll get you your favourite treat.”

Gureum doesn’t run away instantly when Jungkook unclips him because he’s trained, but when he points at you and whistles, he’s gone.

You react surprisingly calm to a dog barreling towards you, barely flinching. You lean down and greet Gureum.

“Approaching target now,” Jungkook mumbles quietly and can only faintly register how Namjoon tells Taehyung to be quiet from now on, all of his attention on the mission now.

With the leash in his hand, Jungkook jogs towards you, heaving extra hard to sell the act of a dog-owner-who-has-been-chasing-his-dog-for-the-last-ten-minutes to you.

You look up to him when he stops in front of you, eyeing him. Jungkook stands there, bend over, his hands on his knees, breathing like he’s struggling to catch his breath.

“Uh…. hi,” you start, brows pinched together.

Jungkook puts on his most charming smile, ignoring his thumping heart to the best of his abilities.

“Hi.”

“Oh, we’re starting- okay, showtime: I’m sorry, are you okay? My dog- he just ran and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry,” Jimin says in his ear.

“I-I’m so sorry.” There’s a quiver to Jungkook’s voice, and it isn’t on purpose. “Are you okay? He just ran and I-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him with a small smile, still petting Gureum who has clearly taken a liking to you. During practise with Seokjin and Yoongi, Gureum always ran back to Jungkook, but now he’s staying at your feet, relishing in your pets. “Is that your dog?”

“Yes, yes, it is. I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a second, but then he ran away and I couldn’t catch up with him. Are you okay?”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a moment, thinking it was okay, but-”

“Can you prove it?” you interrupt and Jungkook pauses. “I mean that it’s your dog. It’s just that he isn’t really reacting to you, you know?”

Jimin’s response comes a bit late. “Oh, yes, I can. His name’s Gureum and he is- what’s the breed of your dog again? I don’t remember. If you look at his collar, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

“Oh, yeah, I can,” Jungkook smiles, wiping the non existent sweat from his temple. “His name’s Gureum and he’s a white Maltese dog. If you look at his collar, you’ll see that I’m not lying.”

You actually look at the collar and part of Jungkook is offended that you don’t just believe him. Does he look like a liar to you? “Actually, I have pictures too-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I believe you,” you say before gesturing for Gureum to go back to Jungkook. He does, but somewhat reluctantly and Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret this.

“Ask her if she’s okay again.”

“Are you really okay?” Jungkook says and offers you a smile the way Jimin taught him to. “I really am sorry about-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him and wave him off. “Nothing happened. Don’t worry about it. Just leash your dog.”

And then, you turn away from him. Jungkook stands there awkwardly for another moment before kneeling down to Gureum, absentmindedly petting him, mind filled with questions because what now? How does he communicate to the others that you turned away from him? That the conversation has ended and he has no idea how to start it again?

“What’s going on Kook? Is she smiling-”

“Ah, Gureum, no,” Jungkook cuts in. “Don’t turn away- I can’t leash you if you do that. Don’t turn away.”

“Oh, shit, she turned away, huh?”

“What now, Jimin?”

“Shush, Joon. Let me think, yeah?”

Jungkook fiddles with the leash like he has a problem clipping it, hoping that maybe you’re going to offer him your help. You don’t. And why would you? He’s an adult after all.

Before Jimin can come up with anything though, the solution to the problem presents itself. It comes in the form of a girl running and tripping right next to Jungkook and him catching her just in time before she can faceplant in the dirt and scrape her knees open.

“Oh, hey, careful here!” Jungkook brings the girl back up on her two feet. She stares at him with big eyes, and he recognises her from the pictures. It’s Siyeon, the seven year old girl you babysit regularly, the reason why you’re spending your afternoon at a playground today. ”You okay?”

“Kook, what’s happening right now?” Namjoon asks.

Siyeon looks at you, and you’re already kneeling beside her, fixing her hair.

“Siyeon, I told you not to run. See, you almost fell now!” You say it the same way a mother would, less strict though. “If he hadn’t caught you, you would have hurt yourself, wouldn’t you have? Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,” Siyeon mumbles, and Jungkook isn’t sure if she’s staring at her hands because she’s embarrassed or just about to cry.

“Who’s that? Who are you talking to? Who’s he talking to?”

“Was that a kid?”

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks Siyeon, ignoring Namjoon and Taehyung to the best of his abilities.

“Y-yes, thank you.” She won’t look at him.

Jungkook smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you didn’t get hurt there.”

“Kook, answer please. Do you need help?”

“Should we interfere?”

Jungkook’s about to snap. Does it seriously sound like he needs help? He’s talking to a seven year old, for fuck’s sake! Sure, he didn’t practise this scenario, but God, he was capable of improvising!

“Thank you. She’s really clumsy,” you say to Jungkook.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m like that too. After all, I let,” he looks down at Gureum and finishes his sentence by gesturing to him and then you. You laugh.

And that’s when Siyeon seems to notice Gureum for the first time, eyes growing big at his sight like she has never seen a dog before. A chance.

“His name’s Gureum. You wanna-”

“Do you think we should go over there? See if he’s okay?”

And with that, Jungkook snaps. Yoongi is going to give him an earful for destroying his oh so precious equipment, but he can’t do this any longer with Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung in his ear. So in one smooth movement, Jungkook digs out the earpiece and crushes it between his fingers, hiding it in his hand.

“Sorry, a fly, I think,” Jungkook says, swatting at his ear, and before you can think about it, he moves on. “Do you wanna pet Gureum, S- Is it okay if I call you Siyeon?”

Siyeon stares at Jungkook like he can’t believe he just asked her that. It’s probably the first time an adult has asked her for permission to call her by her name, and she seems to appreciate it immensely because she beams at him and gives him a huge nod.

“Okay, Siyeon, do you maybe wanna pet Gureum? He doesn’t bite, I promise.” Jungkook can feel your eyes on him. He’s doing it, charming you!

Siyeon turns to you.

“Can I-?”

You hum. “If Gureum is okay with it-”

Siyeon kneels down. “Hello, Mr Gureum. Sir, can I please pet you?”

Jungkook melts, and so do you.

Receiving no response from Gureum, Siyeon looks back up to you. Jungkook quickly takes his paw and waves. “Hello, Mrs Siyeon, if you promise not to hurt me, you can pet me. I like it especially if humans pet me at the back of my head. Just, please, be nice to me.”

In all of the years he has had Gureum, Jungkook has never tried to imagine what his voice would sound like, but he knows for a fact that he doesn’t sound like a chain smoker. It’s a questionable choice, but he doesn’t regret it. Because not only does it make Siyeon laugh, it also elicits a chuckle from you.

You look at him with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet, have I?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jungkook says, and you two rise to your feet when Siyeon starts to pet Gureum and he doesn’t bite her.

“Well,” you stretch out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

Jungkook swallows the ‘I know’ that wants to slip him and takes your hand. He has to stop himself from bursting with pride, only allowing his smile to grow into a blinding grin.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and he means it. It’s really nice to meet you. “I’m Jungkook.”

coming sunday, may 30th 2021

[lover-of-skellies]

Marked

So uhh, this isn’t off the prompt list thing and literally no one asked for it, but I decided to go back and edit a super old thing I wrote. It’s supposed to be part of something a lot bigger, but for now, the whole thing’s been discontinued

Essentially, this is an OC insert kinda thing with my girl Adrienne. She’s been trapped in Horrortale for a little while, and since Sans decided to be merciful, she’s been allowed to live in a spare room in his and Pap’s house. She has free roam of the house and can do pretty much whatever the hell she wants (as long as it doesn’t involve getting into the pantry and digging into their reserves), and in exchange for all of that and being allowed to live, he and Papyrus have some super basic rules they expect her to follow

Rule number 1 is that she is to be helpful, and try to maintain the house while they’re away. Rule number two is that she’s not to leave the house without covering her face and hands. Rule number three is that she’s never to leave the house alone, without one or both of them nearby

Out of boredom and hunger, she leaves the house one day, following the smell of food. This doesn’t seem like it’d be anything huge, but it’s a major no-no, and it doesn’t go unpunished

Papyrus is also surprisingly good at giving advice, too. He might not have much experience with dating, but he knows exactly what he's talking about

If you make it to the end, I have to give you kudos because this is a complete cringe-fest ^^"

((Gonna add some potential trigger warnings for: angst, slight violence, and public humiliation))

Pain.

Searing pain.

The once blue-nette had been exploring the town, much to her guardians’ displeasure. She’d known it wasn’t a good idea, and for what reasons, she was well aware, but she had to do something. Staying holed away in the house every moment of every day was a completely new level of boring, one that she hadn’t even known existed. Her guardian had made it very clear that she was to never leave the house unless he or his brother were to accompany her, but today… well. His brother was away, probably at the capital getting physically and verbally abused by their queen, and he himself? She wasn’t sure what he did while he was away, but she’d learned not to ask too many questions. The first few times she tried asking, he’d been quick to change the subject or dodge her questions entirely, or he’d simply laugh and make a joke which he deemed hilarious when in reality, it wasn’t. Once he got tired of her asking, his humor quickly dissipated and was replaced by anger. He didn’t even have to look at her for her to know he was upset; all it took was a few short, clipped responses, and how she could practically hear him frown when he spoke. That’s beside the point though.

At the moment, she was suspended in mid air by her throat, her legs flailing as she began clawing at her assailant’s arm, her teeth bared as she struggled to free herself. The slightly withered fire monster shrugged off her attempts to attack him as if they were nothing at all; even though his strength had been diminished and was now only half of what it used to be, he was still far tougher than she could ever hope to be. Having smelled food, she made the mistake of slipping into the bar he owned, her hood tugged as far over her face as possible. She had glanced around the establishment, taken note of the other monsters nearby, and made another mental note of where all the exits were, should she need to run. After very cautiously crossing the bar and taking a seat at the old, worn counter, the flamesman had wordlessly poured a glass of water. He nudged it in her direction, and she’d eagerly accepted it, being mindful of how much of her face was concealed as she sipped the cold beverage.

For a moment, she was relaxed, and she nearly forgot the very real danger she was in. She was snapped out of her brief feeling of serenity as the Grillby fully shifted his attention to her. He made a soft, questioning sound, and she kept her head low, speaking just barely loud enough for him to hear, “What’re ya serving, Grillby?” He grunted, well prepared to offer her a short, yet simple answer, but was cut off by another monster who seated himself beside the girl, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around these parts before, friend… where are you from?” The teen lowered her gaze to the countertop, catching a glimpse of what looked to be faded blue fur. She didn’t know what monster could possibly want to talk to her, but she remained as calm and casual as possible in hope of not drawing any more attention to herself, “The ruins.”

With their interest now fully piqued, the monster beside her hummed incredulously, “The ruins, huh?... I take it you’ve met our former queen then. Toriel.” Upon hearing the familiar goat monster’s name, the teen saw images flicker in her mind; memories of her time in the ruins before she managed to escape. How Toriel had guided her through all the traps and puzzles that laid in waiting. How she held her close and allowed her to sob into her shoulder. How she’d convinced Adrienne to go back to her house, where there’d be a warm bed, food, and all the love and care she could ever want. Toriel had baked a cinnamon and butterscotch pie, very excited to share it with her, but not long after the teen had eaten a small slice, she’d felt her stomach turn. Her world went black, and when she awoke, she was tucked into a bed in a dimly lit room, which looked as though it had once belonged to a child. She felt incredibly ill and had almost no strength, and she could barely stand without feeling light headed. To her surprise, however, her willing ally, Flowey, had made a surprise return. Adrienne had seen Toriel had burn him alive, so she didn’t understand how he was even still alive.

Flowey had been through this exact same situation too many times to count, as it turned out, and he’d revealed Toriel’s true intentions: make the teen weak enough to require constant care and attention, and make her stay in the ruins forever. Or at the very least, until she died. Taking advantage of a distraction provided by Flowey, she’d waited for the goat monster to disappear to another part of the house. She’d then made her way to the kitchen and began to search around the floorboards. According to Flowey, there was a panel that could be removed, and underneath it, she’d find the remedy she needed to regain her health. She’d found the vial and downed it without question, only to look up and see the crazed goat monster staring at her from the doorway. The look on her face was one that still occasionally haunted Adrienne's dreams, and she’d been trying to go as long as possible without thinking about it. It appeared as though she’d be getting no such luck today, though.

Clearing her throat and trying to force down her growing anxiety, she nodded, keeping her head down, “Yeah, I have. I’ve met her.” The blue furred stranger watched her with an unnerving amount of intensity and she fought the urge to squirm and lean away from them. As they spoke again, their voice held a curious edge, “Huh. I can only imagine how that went.” Nodding silently, the teen returned to her glass of water, more than ready for the stranger to go away. She knew what would happen if she was discovered, and she wanted no part of that whatsoever.

The monster leaned closer to her and sniffed the air, letting out a pleased sigh before mumbling, “Friend… you don’t exactly smell like one of us. Monsters have their own natural and unique scents... But you, however,” A fuzzy paw-like hand seized her arm with a vice-like grip, and the stranger's voice shifted from a mumble to what was more like a hiss, “you smell like you belong on the grill.” Adrienne began attempting to yank her arm back out of the monster’s grasp and they laughed, simply using their free hand to tug her hood down, revealing her identity to Grillby and the other bar patrons that surrounded them. Her faded grey eyes widened in fear as the monsters began to shout at the flamesman, excitedly demanding that he cook her for them. Despite how the teen shook her head in protest, the mass of living fire moved closer to her, rapidly snatching her up by the throat. She was lifted off of the ground, and he ignored her pained screams as the heat from his hand began to scorch the skin of her neck.

With adrenaline now coursing through her veins, she let out a string of expletives and pulled both of her legs up until her knees touched her chest. The flamesman took a single step toward his kitchen, and then froze as both of her deceptively weak legs shot toward him, delivering a sharp kick to the space just below his chest. She didn’t expect her little stunt to actually work, but to her pleasant surprise, he’d released his grip on her out of shock, gingerly touching the now injured part of himself. Adrienne dropped to the floor and quickly regained her balance, paying no attention to the few monsters who rushed to Grillby’s side. She proceeded to climb over the counter and sprint toward the door, the footsteps behind her a clear indicator that she was being pursued now. Not that she could blame them for any though; food was insanely hard to come by, so if you had a chance to eat but the food got up and ran, wouldn’t you go after it too?

Reaching out with a clawed hand, some unseen monster snagged a fistful of her hair and harshly pulled, causing her to yelp and almost tumble to the floor. She glanced around, surveying her surroundings and checking the exits again. Part of what looked to be a dog’s muzzle could be seen in her peripheral vision and she winced, struggling to free herself from the creature's grip. She only received an amused cackle from the monster in question, followed by him instructing some of the others to grab her and haul her back to the kitchen for Grillby. Looking around again and seeing them approaching her, she stuffed her hand into one of her pockets and fished around, searching through the various items inside for a moment before revealing a pocket knife. Unsure of what she might do, some of the monsters around her stepped back, but the one still pulling her hair only growled. Though she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise at the sound, she lifted an arm and made one single, fluid slicing motion with her hand, the blade of the pocket knife slicing through her hair. While she hated having to cut her hair and knew it’d take forever to grow back, she bared her teeth at the large dog monster, her lips curling into a smug grin as she noticed the look of surprise on his face.

Taking advantage of the moment, she darted to the nearest door, fully prepared to run out into the freezing streets and make a mad dash back to her protector’s house. Freedom and safety were so close and within her reach now, but as she whipped the door open and scrambled to get outside, she slammed face first into yet another monster. Letting out a frustrated and startled screech, she began trying to squeeze past them. They simply chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nearly size-zero waist and pulling her flush against themselves. Hearing the chuckle, realization dawned on her; this was her protector. She would be safe now.

She stole a glance up at his face and his scarlet iris flickered briefly down to her, his amused grin shifting into a taut line. Oh, she knew that expression all too well by now.

From that look alone, she knew someone would be hurt today.

Though his arm was almost uncomfortably tight around her, she said nothing, only turning her body slightly and burying her face in the front of his heavily blood stained shirt. The teen whimpered, wordlessly admitting just how scared she really was at the moment. He shifted his focus entirely to the other monsters that were now staring at both of them, and sensing their gaze, the teen whined faintly, her guardian lightly squeezing her in an effort to reassure her.

Thoroughly confused as to why she wasn’t dead yet, someone called out to her protector, “Perfect timing, Sans. Now how about you kill her so we can all eat already?” The skeleton’s normally rough voice held a bitter edge and he practically growled, “She ain’t free game, pal. I’m sorry ta say it, but I won’t be hackin’ this one ta bits for ya.” A crowd was beginning to form now and Adrienne tried to press as close to her friend as she could, wishing everyone would hurry up and leave. She already hated crowds on their own, and knowing that this particular crowd all wanted to see her get roasted alive didn’t exactly make her feel any better. Clearly taken aback, the same monster that’d addressed Sans spoke up again, “Oh really? And why’s that? You never helped the humans that fell before her, so what makes her so special?”

Curiosity piqued, she glanced up at the skeleton again, though he didn’t return the gaze. He just continued staring the other monster down, his iris nearly glowing now from the extent of his agitation, “Because she’s mine. Ya hear me? This little slab a’ meat belongs ta me.” A tiny burst of heat rushed to her face upon hearing his response; was he really claiming her right now? Claiming that she was his, and using his power over the others to coerce them into sparing her? Unbelievable.

Another monster decided to interject, countering Sans’ statement with, “Then how come you haven’t marked her yet?”

Oh boy. Of course someone would ask. Why wouldn’t they? She had no idea what she was expecting, but it clearly wasn’t that. With an annoyed huff, the skeleton spun her around, making sure everyone could see her face as he fired back with another sharp retort, “Heh, funny you should ask. I was on my way home with the intention of doin’ just that, but I guess we won’t have the privacy now. Oh well. All you fuckwits better be watchin’, because I’m only gonna do this once.”

Wait, he was going to mark her? Here? In front of everyone?

Face burning with embarrassment, she dropped her gaze to the floor, letting out a soft squeak as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and jacket and pulled them aside to reveal her shoulder. Not bothering to give any indication of what he was about to do, a faintly glowing blue tongue snaked out of his maw and traced over a very specific patch of her skin. The feeling of his tongue - which consisted solely of highly concentrated magic - on her skin was like nothing she’d experienced before. There was some warmth to it that was followed by a tingle, which was likely caused by the magic itself, and another involuntary whimper slipped past her lips. Her face grew hotter at hearing herself make that sound again, which to her horror, Sans had also heard. It earned a soft chuckle from him and his mandible shifted into a pleased grin.

And then he sunk his teeth into her shoulder.

It happened so fast that she didn’t even have time to register what happened, but at the lack of the expected pain, she unconsciously fidgeted. Wasn’t this supposed to hurt?... What was preventing her from being in pain right now? She felt his tongue trace over her skin again, accompanied by more tingling and… numbness? Had he intentionally numbed her shoulder before biting her?

Seeing that he had been true to his word and had in fact marked her, the other monsters quickly grew bored, the vast majority of them also visibly disappointed as they returned to their prior activities. A sense of relief washed over her and she sighed, stealing a quick glance at her friend as he slowly released her. His tongue lingered behind momentarily and lapped up the blood that seeped from the injury, and his voice took a husky tone as he purred, “Ya taste good, kiddo. I think I could get used ta this.” Her already flushed face became a much brighter shade of red than before and she scoffed, refusing to look at him, “Don’t count on it, mister.” “Awe, c’mon Addy. Help me out here… it’s not my fault that ya taste as good as ya look.” Growling softly, Adrienne scrunched her face up into a look of annoyance in hopes of masking her embarrassment as she rolled her eyes, “Pervert.” “No idea what you’re talkin’ about.” “Uh huh, right. I definitely believe that.” He lightly jabbed her side with the tip of a phalange and she squirmed, yelping in surprise. She tried to twist her small frame away from him and he laughed softly, “Whatever. How about we ditch this place and head home now? This bar is no place for a little lady like ya.” Looking back at him over her shoulder, she flicked her tongue at him.

They’d left the bar and began to walk home in uncomfortable silence. The moment they made it back to his house and he’d set her down, she found herself being roughly shoved against the closed front door with one of his large hands catching her wrists and pinning them above her head. Her eyes widened in shock and she squirmed, “H-Hey, what the hell are you-” Meeting her gaze, the look he wore was enough to silence her, his completely dilated red iris both captivating and terrifying her all at once.

Then he spoke, his gruff voice low, “You disobeyed me, Adrienne.”

Forcing her voice out and reaching nothing louder than a whisper, she frowned, “I… I know I did. I’m really sorry, Sans. I won’t do it again, I swear.” “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t get ta you in time?” “Yes, I do! Really!” “If you knew the risks, then why’d you do it?” Feeling much smaller than before as he continued staring her down, Adrienne sheepishly looked away from him, “There’s just.... Not a lot to do here when you and Paps are gone, and I was bored. I did a bunch of cleaning and reorganizing, and I even tried to fix the TV. I dug through the hallway closet and looked through the games, but do you have any idea how hard it is to actually play a game by yourself and have fun at the same time?”

With his free hand, the skeleton cupped his face, letting a deep sigh, “You risked your life… you risked dying, because you were bored? Am I hearin’ that right?” Feeling guilty, she slowly nodded, choosing to keep her mouth shut this time. Catching her completely by surprise, what sounded like a giggle could be heard, and though it took a moment to fully register, she had a realization that made her blood run cold; the giggle came from Sans.

Nervously lifting her gaze again to look up at him, the only thing that began to pulse within her was regret. Regret that she’d disobeyed him, regret that she went against his wishes, regret that she’d upset him so badly, regret that she even opened her mouth at all to speak to him, and most of all, regret that she’d decided to look at him.

He leaned back the smallest bit, one hand still firmly pinning her wrists above her head. Her eyes widened in complete terror as his giggling began to escalate, growing louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter as blue tinted tears pricked at the rims of his sockets. Not bothering to wipe away the tears, he placed his free hand on his face. His open palm rested on his cheek as he curled his fingers, the first two settling inside his empty socket; judging by the slight movement his arm made, he’d begun lightly tugging on the rim of it. That was never a good sign. Yes, she loved it when he relaxed enough to laugh with her from time to time, but this display right now? This was the stuff of nightmares.

Then almost as quickly as it’d started, his laughter came to an abrupt halt and his wide grin vanished, leaving only a resentful scowl behind in its place. As his focus shifted back to the teen, her heart began to race. She honestly had no idea what he planned to do now. He then began to slowly tighten his grip on her wrists, a soft growl rumbling from within his chest. Paying no attention to the grimace of pain she wore as his phalanges began digging into her skin, he leaned down, the space between them reduced to almost nothing as he hissed, “You’re an idiot. Get out of my goddamn sight, human.” Adrienne opened her mouth to force an apology out but was quickly cut off, crying out in surprise and pain as the skeleton dug his phalanges even further into her wrists and began to break skin. Rolling his single eye light, he scoffed, stepping back and suddenly yanking her to the side, releasing his grip on her wrists in time to make her small body become airborne. With the sound of something cracking and collapsing beneath her, she knew she’d landed at least partially on the coffee table.

Despite the pain that shot through her with even the smallest movement, the cold stare she was receiving from the skeleton was enough to make get back up, her head hung low as her eyes began to water up. Not wanting to show him this weaker, more vulnerable side of herself, she darted up the stairs, her feet padding across the slightly creaky wooden floor for only a brief moment. She then took refuge in the upstairs bathroom, slamming the door shut behind herself and flipping the latch, locking out the world. Trying to force down the very minute amount of guilt that began to bubble up within him, Sans let out an annoyed huff and glanced at the now completely busted coffee table. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining that to Papyrus later.

~~~

What seemed like a century had passed before the youngest of the two skeletons finally returned home, the sight of the smashed coffee table still lying on the floor enough to induce a sense of dread within him. Normally when he came home, his elder brother would greet him, or at the very least, be lazing about on the couch and offer him a half hearted wave that was usually followed by some sort of pun or terrible joke.

But no. Nothing. Sans was nowhere in sight, and neither was Adrienne. This only made Papyrus’ concern grow; he hoped beyond all hope that his brother hadn’t done anything to her.

The tall skeleton let out a soft sigh and crossed the living room. The exhaustion from the long day began to set in as he ascended the stairs, eager to take a shower and change into something more comfortable. He loved his battle body immensely, but sometimes his sore, tired bones made the item feel as though it weighed a thousand pounds. He wished he could simply change his clothes and climb into bed so he could go to sleep, but life wasn’t that simple for him; before he was allowed to relax, he needed to shower and make dinner for his brother and Adrienne, then the teen was to help him clean up the dishes once the three of them had finished eating. After all that, he was to take Adrienne to the backyard to test prototypes for new puzzles and traps. She was kind enough to help him make sure they worked correctly, so he was always vigilant, always watching to make sure she was never injured on any of them. Aside from being a puzzle and trap tester, his rather small human friend also delighted in helping him think of new puzzles, and she even designed some of her own. She seemed to enjoy partaking in games of pretend when they messed around with the action figures he’d collected over the years, and when Sans wasn’t around or flat out refused to do it, she didn’t mind reading to him before he fell asleep each night, either. They’d grown very close, and he cared for her almost as much as he cared for Sans. It was for all those reasons why he promised to protect her; he had to protect her. He’d become used to her presence and had grown to appreciate their friendship very much, and having her as his friend helped fill the void in his soul that was once occupied by the queen herself. He still considered Undyne a close friend, but the way she spoke and treated him now was… Execrable.

As he twisted the knob and nudged his bedroom door open, the scent of blood hit his nasal cavity and he felt his body tense. Gently pushing the door shut behind his massive frame once he’d crossed the threshold, he made his way to his desk and flicked on the small lamp that resided on its far left corner, the light illuminating his multitude of action figures and an old map.

The faint sound of movement caught Papyrus’ attention and he looked down toward the source, almost unable to believe what he was seeing; the human was in his bed, lying on her side and wrapped in his old blankets. An open first aid kit sat on the floor next to the bed, and cloth bandages were wrapped loosely around her slender neck. Her hair, which was once nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was now much shorter; it looked as though it was cut hastily by some sort of blade. While her arms were mostly concealed by the blankets, he could see that her wrists had also been wrapped in bandages, a familiar crimson threatening to seep through the material. As she shifted again in her slumber, her shirt began to slip down her shoulder and revealed another large bandage, more crimson staining the fabric. His brow bones furrowed as he took note of how the crimson staining it formed a half circle… as if the injury was because of a bite.

In his consternation, Papyrus reached out, a single gloved hand settling on her uninjured shoulder. He leaned down, his spine already aching from the awkward angle as he lowered his voice and did his best not to startle her, “Human?... Adrienne? Please, I Need You To Wake Up. Come On Human, Please.” As she slowly began to stir, he fought the urge to scoop her up into his arms and shelter her from whatever had left her in her current condition.

As her eyes fluttered open and she took notice of the skeleton towering over her, all traces of exhaustion vanished and her eyes widened, a sound of surprise slipping past her lips. In her momentary panic, she’d sat up and tried to move away from him, her chest heaving as she drew in one deep breath after another. Papyrus gently shushed her, offering her a weak, apologetic smile, “Hey, Hey, It’s Alright. It’s Just Me, Adrienne. I Didn’t Mean To Startle You, I Swear. I’m So Sorry For Scaring You.”

Registering who was with her, the teen released a deep sigh of relief. She gave Papyrus no time to prepare himself before she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around whatever she could reach before clinging to his battle body. Though he was visibly caught off guard, he delicately encircled her with his arms, one hand finding her uninjured shoulder again before he lightly squeezed, his voice laced with concern, “Adrienne?... What’s Wrong? What Happened To You?”

The only response he received from the girl in his arms was a muffled sob and he frowned, moving his hand from her shoulder to her face. He used his index finger to tilt her head back, allowing him to see her tear stained face, and as her bottom lip twitched and another tear rolled down her cheek, he frowned; normally she was such a strong, upbeat person. To see her this way was heartbreaking.

The skeleton lowered his voice even further, reducing it to a whisper, “Adrienne, Please… Tell Me What Happened. I Want To Help You.” Her lip twitched again and she sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her sleeve, “I just… Papy… I just wanted to go outside... I just wanted some fresh air… I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Still frowning, Papyrus gently ran his fingers through her hair and tilted his head, his voice remaining low, “What Do You Mean?... Did Sans Do This To You?” Upon hearing the name of the older skeleton brother, Adrienne tightened her grip on Papyrus, her voice beginning to waver as more tears rolled down her face, gathering at her jaw and dripping down onto her shirt, “Papy… I was so stupid. I made him mad at me. I upset Sans.”

Papyrus’ frown deepened; he knew how his brother could be whenever he had one of his episodes, and never in a million years would he wish for anyone to become the recipient of Sans' delirium. The skeleton sighed as he gently stroked the teen’s hair, “It’ll Be Ok, I Promise. You May Stay Here Tonight If You’d Like, And I’ll Be Sure To Speak With Him About This. Do You Think You Could Tell Me Everything, Though? I Can’t Be Of Any Help To You If I Don’t Know All The Details.” With a heavy heart, she slowly nodded and looked up, meeting his gaze, “I… I went outside today... by myself. I went into town, and I went to Grillby’s. It smelled like food in there, and I was so hungry… I thought I’d find something to eat. I kept myself as covered as possible, but I was caught and got grabbed by Grillby,” she paused, visibly ashamed as she gestured to her neck, “…I got burned.”

The skeleton made a soft sound in understanding and nodded, silently asking her to continue, which she did, “Someone else grabbed my hair and I had to cut it to get away from them. Then when I opened the door and went to run outside, I ran face first into Sans. He told everyone there not to mess with me, that I wasn’t free game because I belonged to him. Then he marked me. Right there, with everyone watching. He was a little flirty afterward and he seemed happy enough, so I thought everything was ok, but when we got here, he… he had an episode.”

Papyrus didn’t know what to make of everything he’d just been told; on one hand, she suffered numerous injuries and nearly died, and on the other hand, she was marked by Sans.

Normally whenever a monster marked someone, it meant that they saw that person as their mate and that they wanted to claim them as their own. That they loved that person with every fiber of their body and soul. Being marked also served as a way to protect someone from other monsters, but there had been cases of a mark not being enough to guarantee the safety of a monster's mate.

Being marked was not only a big deal, but it was also something that every self respecting monster knew should be done in private. The fact that Sans marked her in the first place was absolutely astounding, but the fact that he had the absolute nerve to take something that was meant to be special, shared between mates and no one else, and turned it into some obscene gesture that he performed in front of a crowd, undoubtedly humiliating Adrienne in the process… It was unacceptable.

He needed to speak to Sans, and he needed to do it now.

Releasing a deep sigh, Papyrus lifted a hand to idly rub the back of his neck, “I See… I Cannot Apologize Enough On My Brother’s Behalf. I’ll See If I Can Get Anything Out Of Him That Would Explain Why He’d Behave This Way. Hopefully… Hopefully He Doesn’t Clam Up, Like He Seems To Always End Up Doing. Will You Be Alright Here While I’m Away? I Don’t Want To Leave You Alone If You’re Still Feeling A Little Too Overwhelmed And Freaked Out By Everything.” The teen sniffled, absentmindedly wiping her face with her sleeve again as she nodded, “Uh huh… I think so.” Catching the slight uncertainty in her voice, he offered her a reassuring smile, “I’ll Try To Be Back As Soon As Possible, Alright? How About You Pick Out Some Puzzles For Us To Work On When I Return? A Few Good Puzzles Always Help Me Feel Better Whenever I’m A Bit Rattled, So I’m Confident They’ll Do The Same For You, Too!” Adrienne couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips upward at how eager he was to help her, and she nodded again, “Ok, Pap… that sounds good to me. When you get back, do you think maybe you could help me fix my bandages a little? Some of them are still too loose and I dunno if I missed any little spots anywhere.” Perking up at the request, Papyrus beamed, gently unwrapping his arms from around her and ruffling her hair, “Yes, Of Course! The Great Papyrus Would Be Happy To Assist You, Adrienne!” Letting go of the skeleton, Adrienne smiled up at him; he was such a sweet guy, and despite their circumstances, he was always so optimistic. He still maintained a sense of morality as well, unlike the other monsters. She honestly wasn’t sure what she’d do without him at times.

Reluctantly parting from his small human friend, Papyrus slipped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind himself. Once he was gone, Adrienne sighed, climbing out of his bed and making her way over to a shelf. As she looked over the various boxes and puzzle books, she came to the conclusion that it probably didn’t matter which one she chose; as long as it’d keep her and that goofball busy for a while, it was good enough for her. As she reached out to grab a thick puzzle book, she winced. Her free hand moved to gingerly touch the bandage on her shoulder; at the twinge of pain, her mind drifted to Sans. After earlier, she should’ve learned her lesson and given up on disobeying the very specific rules that her friends had established. She was a curious being by nature though, and she’d be damned if she had to go on without receiving any answers.

Her curiosity and desire to know why Sans would mark her grew even stronger. She grabbed the puzzle book and dropped it on Papyrus’ bed, before peeking out of the room and glancing around the hall. Against her better judgement, she began to search for the pair of brothers. The most logical place Sans would be at this time of night would be in his room, or downstairs on the living room sofa. If those two places weren’t it, then she’d have to check the basement. No biggie. As she tiptoed down the empty hallway, she briefly paused to look over the railing and down into the living room, and found that Sans was nowhere in sight. On her way toward the stairs, she caught the sound of a mumbled conversation through Sans’ closed bedroom door and froze; she knew better than to go into his room without knocking, so she opted to stay in the hall and eavesdrop, rather than barge in on whatever he and Papyrus were talking about at the moment.

Inside the closed off room, Sans rolled his eye light, trying his best to brush off the lecture he was receiving from his younger brother. It’s not like he did anything to Papyrus personally, so he didn’t understand why Pap thought he needed to get involved. Not in the slightest. Completely exasperated with Sans’ stubbornness, Papyrus pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh, “Sans, Honestly. You Didn’t Have To Take It That Far. The Poor Girl’s Probably Traumatized And Too Ashamed To Ever Want To Leave The House Again.” Sans grunted, flopping down onto his back on his old, worn mattress, “Remind me how that’s a bad thing again, Pap. So far, I’m not seein’ any problems with it.” The taller of the two inhaled deeply, briefly closing his sockets as he tried to gather his thoughts, “Sans… Brother. I Love You, But What You Did Today Wasn’t Ok. I Don’t Understand Why You’re So Calm And Casual About It.” Gaining a very clearly agitated edge, Sans practically growled, “It’s really fuckin’ simple. If she’s too ashamed ta leave the house, then good! At least she’ll stay put then and save me a lot a’ trouble in the future.”

Not even remotely threatened by his older brother’s tone of voice, Papyrus snapped, suddenly shouting, “LANGUAGE, SANS. MAYBE SHE DIDN’T LISTEN TO YOU, BUT THAT’S NO REASON TO TREAT HER THIS WAY. IT IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT A VALID REASON TO GO AND PUBLICLY HUMILIATE HER, THEN COME HOME AND SCARE HER HALF TO DEATH, EITHER. YOU ALSO BROKE THE COFFEE TABLE, SANS. SOME OF US HAVE TO PAY FOR THINGS LIKE THAT, YOU KNOW!”

From her spot in the hallway, Adrienne flinched, her eyes widening. Not once had she ever seen Papyrus so upset that he shouted like this. This was a whole new experience, and she could already say that it was both surprising and terrifying all at once.

The shorter of the two let out an exaggerated groan, beginning to absentmindedly tap the tips of his phalanges on the bed as he stared up at the ceiling, “As far as the table goes, I’ll replace the damn thing if it really means that much ta you. What am I supposed ta do about the kid though? If I really scared her as much as you’re sayin’ I did, then she won’t want anythin’ ta do with me. It’s not like I can just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, you know that day when I got mad at you? I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.’” Papyrus hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Well… A Sincere Apology Is Only Half Of What I Think You Owe Her.” “Yeah? And what’s the other half?” “To Be Completely Blunt About It, She Knows What It Means To Be Marked.”

The older skeleton brother nearly choked on air, his cheekbones dusting a soft shade of blue, “What the hell?… Ok, then… What about it? Everyone probably knows what it means.” “What I’m Saying Is That She Knows Monsters Wouldn’t Mark Anyone Unless That Person Was Tremendously Important To Them, And Unless They Saw Them As Their Mate. Not Only Is There That, But She Told Me That You Were Somewhat Flirtatious Toward Her After The Incident Today At Grillby’s. You’re Sending Some Incredibly Mixed Signals, Sans. She More Than Likely Was Under The Impression That You Have Some Very Strong Feelings For Her, But Then You Came Home And Basically Told Her To Get Lost Before Throwing Her At The Coffee Table. She Has No Idea Where She Stands Right Now. The Other Half Of What You Need To Do Is Be Honest With Her. Tell Her If You Feel Something For Her, Or Tell Her If You Don’t. Just Make It Clear To Her So She Knows What She Is To You.”

Bolting upright into a sitting position, Sans stared up at his younger brother in disbelief, “So you’re suggestin’ that I go confess my love ta her or somethin’? Is that what you’re tryna tell me right now, Papyrus?” “If You Love Her, Then Yes, That Is Exactly What I’m Trying To Tell You.” Pressing his index and middle finger to one of his temples, the older of the two narrowed his sockets, grumbling under his breath, “Ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me… this is so stupid…” Taking a seat on the edge of the bed beside Sans, Papyrus arched a brow bone and tilted his head, “Language, Brother… All Of This Might Seem Stupid To You, Maybe, But It’s A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Addressed. If You Really See Her As Your Mate, She Needs To Know. And Hey, It’s Alright To Feel Embarrassed About This Sort Of Thing. It’s Completely Natural. For Starters, Maybe You Could Try To Help Me Better Understand Your Reasons For Marking Her? I’m All Ears! In A... Manner Of Speaking.”

Sans snuck an uncertain glance up at him and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to cover both eyes with his hands, “...Don’t make me talk about this right now, Pap. Please. I can’t do it. I just can’t, what if I-” Papyrus was quick to wrap his arms around his older brother, lightly squeezing his shoulder, “Sans, No. Stop. You’re Overthinking Again. Take A Deep Breath And Try To Relax. It’s Just Me Here, And If You Preferred That I Don’t Tell Her What You Say, Then I Won’t. You Have My Word. Just Trust Me… That’s All I’m Asking Of You Right Now. Please, Just Trust Me.”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

KILL4ME

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader (and kind of x female!OC but that’s not the main focus of anything) 

Summary: You're a new actress trying to get your start. You end up getting your first role cast in a music video for Marilyn Manson’s “KILL4ME” music video but it turns out to be much more than you expected. 

Warnings: SMUT (male x female, female x female) 

A/N: 1) I made the reader straight with no prior female x female experiences. I don’t know why if I’m being honest but that’s how it is so please don’t come at me for it. 2) This is NOT how the film industry should work. If you’re trying to get into the industry, please stay safe, be responsible, and recognize red flags. Typically, randomly popping up pornographic requests is NOT professional or safe. This is just a fantasy I had while watching the music video and was written this way strictly for entertainment purposes. 

Word Count: 5696

__________________________

This project requires nudity and sexual scenes. If you are not comfortable, do not apply. 

The warning had been clear as day and yet, here you were, sitting in your car at the old mansion that was the filming site, nerves going off the charts and feeling less than comfortable with the imminent nudity and sexual scenes. You were an actor, you reminded yourself. This was the only job you’d landed since arriving in Los Angeles and, despite your promises to yourself and your family that you wouldn’t resort to full nudity for a project, there were bills that needed paying and your waitressing job wasn’t cutting it. 

Besides, shouldn’t you be thrilled? This wasn’t just any music video you’d landed a role in but a music video for Marilyn Manson! He was a goth rock legend and you couldn’t hide your excitement when you’d found out who you’d been booked to work for.

But still, the nudity and sexuality made you uneasy. There hadn’t been a script or anything. Your only instructions were to come looking your best and with an open, ready to work mindset. So here you were, physically feeling like a million bucks but butterflies going crazy within. 

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, you opened the door to your barely working 2008 Honda Civic, feeling even more self-conscious when you saw the other cars that were parked outside of the massive mansion were all beautiful and sleek, most of them black and very expensive looking. 

Crew members stirred around outside, entering and exiting the house with lights and props and sound equipment, everything needed for the production. You walked through the large black door that led into the beautiful white mansion, opening into an equally fantastic interior. You audibly gasped, “This is beautiful…” 

“Y/N?” A woman’s voice questioned from beside you and you spun quickly to face her, snapping out of your amazed daze. 

“Yes.” You answered hastily. 

She checked the clipboard in her hand, “Great, you’re right on time. Come right this way, we’re gonna get you into hair and makeup.” You were about to reply when she’d taken off down the hall without giving you a moment to speak so you followed, avoiding the moving equipment around you. 

Before you knew it, you’d been whisked away into a small room that was full of makeup, hair styling tools, and costumes. Nobody told you what they were doing as they pulled your hair straight and did up your makeup, surprisingly simpler than you’d expected with just light eyeshadow and moderate eyeliner. 

“Alrighty, now I’m gonna have you undress and put on that robe over there.” The man in charge of costumes directed. 

Your brows furrowed, “How undressed?” 

“All the way, sweetie. No panties, no bra. It’s all gotta go.” He must have seen the uneasy look on your face because he gave you an unsympathetic shrug, “You signed up for a nude project, hun. Welcome to Hollywood.” 

**

“Y/N is here. I believe that’s it, Mr. Manson.” The same woman as earlier announced as you entered the room you were supposed to be briefed in. It took everything in your power to remain professional when you saw Marilyn Manson standing there, talking casually with another girl who you assumed to be a co-star.

Like you, his makeup was already done up and he was in full costume. His face was painted pale white with a black loop drawn across one half and his other half blank except for the unnaturally blue contact and dark panda-like eyeliner.  His lips were stained bright red and you almost felt like you were looking at a picture of him online. 

“Thank you, Yolanda.” None other than The Marilyn Manson (and yes, “The” was now an official part of his name in your mind) thanked the woman who you assumed to be an assistant. “Come on in, Y/N.” He beckoned you into the room and you tried to front your most professional, most confident face but the way you held your robe tight to your body gave you away. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Manson.” You came up, reaching to shake his hand, “It’s a real honor to get to work with you.” Kiss ass, you muttered to yourself. 

Instead of shaking your hand, he simply waved his hand in the air, “Ah, the pleasantries. I hope it will be a pleasure to work with you as well.” 

You retracted your extended hand awkwardly, unsure of whether or not that was a blow off or him just being mysterious and cool, and scuttled to stand with the other girl. She was beautiful and blonde, tall and thin. Model-esque. You felt insecure next to her, especially in front of someone as influential as Manson. You were just you, an inexperienced actress-to-be, on her first professional job with a bunch of people who definitely knew their way around a camera. 

“Alright, so I know you came here with minimal details,” Marilyn began, a weirdly neutral look on his very painted face, his tone flat and low. It was hard to read him with his contacts in. “Hopefully, that’s a good sign this will work well. You’re both willing to take risks. You’re flexible. Well, I’m here to give you the details. As you know, there is nudity and sex required for this video. It will be between you two,” You stiffened up awkwardly as he gestured all too casually between the two of you, “And my old friend here.” 

On cue, none other than Johnny Depp walked into the room. Your jaw visibly hit the floor. There is no fucking way. “Hello.” He greeted with a smile, the same smile that you’d seen millions of times in his movies that you’d binged every so often. 

Were you the only one feeling so shocked? Why the hell was the actress next to you so calm? Why was Johnny so calm? You were about pretend to fuck Johnny fucking Depp! 

Johnny stepped forward to shake your hand, “I’m Johnny, nice to meet you,” He introduced politely. 

Starstruck, you took his hand, “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you as well.” Then he leaned down and kissed your hand, actually kissed your hand like a fucking gentleman, eyes never leaving yours. God, the way he looked up at you through his strands of middle parted 90’s hair… it was enough to make your breath catch. 

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he moved from you to the girl next to you, “I’m Marie.” She responded to his introduction politely. He brought her hand to his lips as well but, maybe you were crazy - just imagining some fantasy, but it felt detached and fast when he did it to her. 

“Great, well now that we all know each other,” Marilyn interjected as Johnny moved back to stand by his friend, “I’ll continue. I’ve already shot my parts so I’ll be here to direct you if needed but I want this as natural as possible. Aside from a few artistic shots, I need this to be raw, primal, and absolutely fucking filthy.” 

You and Marie listened on in intent silence, soaking in his every word. But you found it hard to focus when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny eyeing you. No, no, it couldn’t be. He was probably just zoned out behind you. 

*** 

A few hours later, all of the artistic shots had been done. There were shots of you pulling up thigh high stockings that clipped onto the garter belts hanging from your nearly sheer black underwear and having a leather corset tightened tightly on your back, cinching your waist smaller than you’d ever seen it. You had put on massively high heels and large, luxurious costume jewelry. 

Even though the outfit could be seen as objectifying, you’d never felt more confident or powerful in your life. After your last shot of just your nearly bare thighs, you were dismissed momentarily so Marie could film her sections. 

You walked over to your bag and took out a water bottle, not realizing how much this took out of you, running the same seemingly simple shots over and over again under blaring lights. “How long have you been acting?” 

Oh God. It was him. 

You turned to see Johnny standing next to you, very close, much closer than was considered polite distance but not so close that you felt suffocated. He looked gorgeous, hair hanging perfect from his beautiful tan skin. Earrings hung from his lobes, dangling just slightly. His white button up shirt was only buttoned half way, showing off his smooth, toned chest that barely showed any signs of his older age (not that he was ancient but he was definitely on your list of celebrities over 45 that you would let rail you). But the cherry on top was the eyeliner. The fucking eyeliner. It took you back to so many of his characters that you’d fallen in love with but with the white shirt and earrings, you were getting almost a refined Jack Sparrow crossed with Sweeney Todd feeling and God you’d never been so turned on by a pirate/ serial killer. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you blinked rapidly, totally horrified that you’d been staring. 

“Oh! Sorry! Um, this is my first real shoot, actually. You know how Hollywood is…” You chuckled awkwardly, reaching your hand around to rub your neck. Of course, he knew how Hollywood was, stupid! You cursed yourself, hoping you didn’t sound as dumb as you felt. 

He leaned a hand up against the wall, “Yeah, I know how that is. But don’t worry, this is a great place to start.” He reassured, looking away at the set oh so casually. Your eyes trailed up his arm that had planted itself just beside you on the wall. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing? 

No! He was Johnny Depp. He could have whichever woman he wanted at the bat of an eyelash. Why would he want you? 

“Y/N! We’re ready for your scene with Marie!” The director called to you from behind the camera and you perked up. 

“I better go.” You nodded over to the set, walking away awkwardly, almost scared that you be perceived as rude for having to do your job. 

He chuckled and waved you on. This made you blush bright red and turn to run off to set. 

You found yourself directed to a bed, “All right,” The director began, Marilyn standing directly next to him, hand on his chin as he watched his vision be brought to life, “Now, first, we’re going to get shots of you making out. I need it hot, I need it passionate. I don’t care if you’ve never kissed a girl before, make it look like you have. Next, we’re going to do totally nude shots of you grinding.” 

Your eyelids fluttered slightly in shock at what he said. Okay, you could do that, you hyped yourself up. 

Before you knew it, you were lying on the bed, Marie on top of you. Her soft lips were against yours and her nails raked gently down your throat, sending shocks down your body. Even though you were acting, it was hard to separate the feelings that arose, regardless of your sexuality. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you like this. Your hands tangled in her hair and your eyes were screwed shut.

“Cut!” The director yelled and Marie immediately pulled back, snapping out of character and back into her over-professional attitude. You, on the other hand, needed a brief moment to pull out of character. After just a second, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, Marie still straddling you. Your breasts filled the tight push up bra you wore but you felt surprisingly comfortable in it, even around all these people. That was, until you glanced over to see Johnny standing beside Marilyn, at first looking at a monitor and reviewing footage, but then over at you, his gaze stuck on your accentuated chest. 

Your face flushed red as you quickly looked away, not seeing the amused smirk that graced his face. Little did you know, he was very aware of what he was doing and very pleased with your reaction.  

“That was perfect. Now we’re gonna move onto the sex scenes.” He waved you and Marie over and you obeyed once she climbed off your torso.

Marilyn and Johnny too came over, completing the small group. Marilyn spoke, “Now you knew there was sex and nudity and I’m very pleased with how this is turning out,” He paused, giving you both a very serious look, “But now, I’m going to ask something of you that you probably aren’t comfortable with. Usually with sex scenes, there’s fabric in place to hide cocks and shit but I don’t want any of that. It distracts actors from the scene and there’s always the issue of whether or not you see it. I want raw, I want primal, I want absolutely fucking filthy.” 

He was quiet for a moment, waiting for you and Marie to piece together his request, but filling in the rest when he saw both of your professional exteriors crack in confusion, “I want you to all actually fuck. Only if you’re comfortable with it but if you’re not you’ll be paid for the work you’ve done and we’ll find someone to replace you.” 

You nearly choked, “Like… porn? You want this to be porn?” Johnny chuckled to himself, seeing your embarrassed, nervous reaction. You were so cute. 

He looked pensive for just a moment  before nodding, “Yeah, I suppose so.” He answered bluntly, “Like I said, only if you’re comfortable with it but, if not, you’ll be fired for the rest of the video.” 

Oh God, were you really about to agree to porn? Like actual fucking porn? Three way porn at that! But three porn with Johnny Depp…. It was the one thing you told yourself you wouldn’t do. But then again, your rent was due in two weeks and you were $300 short. “I’m in.” You answered, almost regretting it immediately. 

“Me too.” Marie agreed, long arms crossed across her chest. 

“Good. Now let’s get to it.” 

** 

The lesbian sex scene had gone by relatively hitch free, save for a few awkward placement issues. Marie, being straight as an arrow, had no clue what she was doing, and you too were inexperienced in the department but with a little direction, the scene was finished. 

She knelt on her knees, holding your naked hips up and grinding your bare core against her own. Your eyes were closed, trying to remember every previous sexual encounter and porno you’d seen to try and make the sexiest faces and the sexiest form.

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off you as you writhed on the bed, completely naked and grinding up against another beautiful woman. Everything about you looked so authentic but innocent but dirty. He found himself craving you in the most unprofessional ways as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your hips. 

When the scene was over, you nearly jumped off the bed and rushed for your robe. You were embarrassingly wet right now, the eye contact you’d made with Johnny while having your clit rubbed was just absolutely intoxicating and you were just thankful that you were able to control yourself enough to not get your juices all over Marie. 

As they changed the scene around, you stood beside Johnny and Marilyn. “Method actor?” He asked. 

You cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” 

“You looked pretty into the scene up there. Wonder what you were thinking about…” He continued. Your heart was in your throat. His tone was dark and sultry and implied exactly what he thought you were thinking about and boy was he correct. “As a method actor myself, I completely understand your… position.” 

Johnny looked down at you, his dark eyes unyielding as he dove into your very soul and could see you every fantasy. 

“Okay! Everyone on set!” 

** 

Ignore the cameras, you screamed at yourself. You’re not doing porn, you’re just having a threesome with Johnny Depp and some girl named Marie. Yeah, that was a convincing story to tell yourself. Just relax in this totally normal situation. Pfft, as if. 

But you were an actress. Then something occurred to you, the ghost of a voice spoke to you. It was actually words spoken by Johnny in an old interview you’d seen him do, words that had stuck with you as a foundation in your training: “The most important thing that an actor needs to do is not to act, but to react. That's what it is all about, and you do one of the most difficult things in the world, which is to just be--to be in the state of being.”

Just relax. React to the scene. Be in the scene. Hell, this wasn’t even a scene anymore. This was a secret fantasy you’d never known you’d had coming to life. There wasn’t even any acting involved. So just be. 

“Action!” 

Immediately in character, you caressed Marie sexually, hands running along her sides as you nipped along her neck. Now that you were the dominant character, her scantily clad body was putty in your hands. Your teeth raked along her skin and you felt her shudder beneath your touch, brushing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. 

Then a quiet metallic sound drew your attention. You and Marie both looked over towards the ornate door to see Johnny standing there, looking in through the gold grated peephole. 

Marie looked at you, her eyes full of question. Should you let him in? Honestly, you weren’t sure if your characters knew who he was. No! Stop, you’re not playing a character now. You’re you. You are the character. 

You chewed your lip seductively and walked over, legs crossing and hips rocking as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor. You reached down, perfectly manicured fingers gripping the handle delicately and unlocked the door. Before he could even get ahold of his surroundings, you had him by the collar and pulled him in. He could play all the sexy flirty games he wanted, but right now, you were in control and you were going to make him want you more than anything, even if it all was just for the camera. 

His hands found your hips immediately as he attempted to steady himself but, gosh, all he wanted to do was take you here and now, preferably without Marie or the cameras, but he figured that if that’s what it took to fuck you, he was more than willing to compromise. 

You pulled him in, your lips finally crashing against his. At first, he was hesitant but only for half a second, before he returned the kiss with even more fervor than you’d gone in with. Marie came up on his side and nibbled his ear, hands roaming up and down his chest between your very close bodies. 

Johnny pulled back from this kiss and twisted just enough to snake an arm around Marie’s thin body and led her to face you. Then his hands came to firmly hold the back of each of your necks and forced your faces together, pressing you and the other woman to kiss. You both complied obediently, a strange mix of submissively and dominantly, like you were submitting to him but then fighting between the two of you. 

Her lips moved graciously against yours, smooth and soft. It was so much more different than kissing a man. This felt delicate still despite the absolute filth that was ensuing. Her hand shot out to hold you by the jaw and pulled you in roughly, Johnny’s hand almost not needing to do anything. 

He watched in amazement as the two of you obeyed his every physical command, the way you both looked so lost in each other. He knew you were straight just by interacting with you earlier but you could have had him fooled now. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in threeway with two other girls but this was definitely the hottest one. Before, it was all just to see if he could pull it off and then just to have the novelty of having girls bend to his will but this was different. You were different. He couldn't really explain it but he was completely enamored by you. An air of innocence surrounded you from the moment he set eyes on your otherworldly beauty but the saw in your eyes a fire that burned with the ability to be more than that. He was determined to see just how hot that fire burned. 

He pulled you and Marie apart before bringing her to kiss him. While he did, his free hand absentmindedly groped your chest, your breasts spilling from the top of your push up bra. A twinge of jealousy went through you as you watched them kiss, although you knew how irrational it was. They were actors. You were too. There was nothing personal about this. But, for some unexplainable, unprofessional reason, there was for you. 

You slinked behind the older man like a cat and ran your fingertips ever so gently across his closed shoulders and down his biceps. They trailed down his sides as his body moved from the intense makeout session with Marie before coming around to tease over his growing bulge. In his black well fitting pants. 

His body tensed ever so slightly, barely noticeable except to you two, when your hand made contact with his erection. You smirked to yourself, a dark, sexy smile, the kind of smile you’d expect to see in a twisted Tim Burton film. You were finally the mysterious gothic beauty you’d always imagined yourself as in all of his stories. 

With swift fingerwork and a quick, almost too skilled, flick of your wrist, you had Johnny’s belt whipped off him and held firmly in your hands. He pulled Marie off of him and shoved her roughly onto the bed, undoing the buttons of his shirt as you walked in circles around him, trailing your gaze up and down his perfect body and dragging the leather of his belt on his torso and thighs as you did so. 

The way you looked at him, like a lioness about to devour her prey, made Johnny feel like he was on fire. You seemed so in control and confident and you had a way of touching him, as if you knew exactly what made him tick. It was intoxicating. 

His shirt was unbuttoned in a matter of seconds and without warning, he had you pressed back against the mattress as well. He crawled over your body, rolling his hips just right against your clothed core. A small, quiet whisper of a moan escaped your lips at the sudden, well placed contact. 

Your hands tangled into his hair as you pulled him down to you, forcing his head into your neck. He kissed and sucked and nipped and licked just right, like he had a map to your body. You were embarrassingly wet from just kissing and you secretly prayed that nobody noticed but you were too lost in the moment to do anything about it. 

Your leg wrapped around his waist and pulled him into you again. “Fuck…” His voice was a raspy, low whisper, said just loud enough for you three to hear. 

Johnny kissed down your neck and across your breasts, moving over to Marie’s chest, which he dove into with full force. She squirmed and moaned beside you as he assaulted her perfect breasts. You rolled over as far as you could and caught her lips in yours, swallowing her moans. 

That was, until Johnny’s hand trailed down to rub your core. You gasped into Marie’s full lips and rolled your hips into his hand, begging for more. Suddenly, he sat back onto his heels and grabbed your hips roughly, flipping you over onto all fours like he’d done it a million times before. “Ah!” You squealed slightly at the sudden action. 

He climbed off the bed and knelt just behind you, palms rubbing over your ass and admiring every inch of you. Marie adjusted to sit just in front of you, legs spread to reveal her bare vagina before you. You weren’t sure when she’d lost her underwear but low and behold here you were face to face with all she had to bear. You’d never eaten a girl out before but you’d seen enough porn and fooled around with yourself enough to know what might work as a good start. 

Cautiously, you started a few kitten licks to her clit, noticing every flinch or shudder that left her lips. Just as you began to get the hang of it, there was a loud rip as you felt the fabric of your panties be literally torn from your body. You gasped loudly, looking back behind you to see Johnny with his tongue between his teeth, admiring your body. 

Johnny ran his surprisingly soft hands up and down your ass before dragging his fingertips through your already dripping folds. You moaned against Marie’s clit, her hands pulling on your hair, as his fingers circled your clit. You pressed your hips back against him, begging for more, and he was more than happy to oblige. 

Before you knew it, the three of you were a tangle of limbs. At all times, you were being touched by someone, whether it was groping your chest, your ass, or your pussy, but it was always a game trying to figure out who it was. The heat was becoming unbearable and you were grateful for the lack of clothing. Your body was slicked in sweat, both yours and Johnny’s mostly. 

He’d taken a clear preference to you and you almost felt bad for Marie but you didn’t feel too bad, seeing as how your lifelong fantasies were coming true. When someone was touching you, it was almost always Johnny, although he didn’t let his bias completely ruin the shot. He was a professional after all. 

Soon, after at least ten minutes of blind fingering and hand jobs, you found yourself straddling Johnny as he lied naked on the bed. This was it, the moment you actually had sex with Johnny Depp. He held his large erection in one hand, guiding it to your entrance and then moved his hands to grip your hips tightly, lowering you down onto this length. 

“Oh my… fuck-” You hissed out, throwing your head back as you adjusted to him. You’d never felt so full before, so complete. Without even moving, he made you feel absolutely incredible. 

He chuckled sexily below you, loving your reaction. This whole scene had been a game with you, fighting for who was seducing who, who was in charge, but here he was finally proving it was him. 

You steadied yourself on his chest, soft hands splayed out against his surprisingly taught, tattooed skin. To look at him like this, you never would have guessed how much older he was than you. He could pass for a very handsome man in his thirties easily. 

You swiveled your hips experimentally and clenched your walls around his cock. Johnny sucked in a sharp breath as his fingertips dug harshly into your skin, sure to leave little bruises in their place. You looked down and locked eye contact with him through your long eyelashes, your hair disheveled and hanging in your face sexily, as you squeezed your muscles around him yet again and moved your hips. 

“Fucking hell.” He groaned out beautifully, short nails digging crescents into your skin. His grip moved to cup your ass cheeks from below, grabbing them firmly and moving you up and down until you found a pace that worked for both of you. 

Marie lied on the bed beside Johnny, one leg strewn across his chest and the other behind your bouncing body, as she toyed with her clit with one hand and fingered herself with the other. 

You reached down to play with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples between your soft fingertips but the action was half hearted at best. All you could focus on was how Johnny felt inside you, hitting all the right spots. How you had him at your will just as much as you were at his. His hair was strewn around his face on the pillows like a damn god, his eyeliner smeared every so slightly from the sweat. His eyes screwed shut every now and then but otherwise, he looked at you like no other man had ever looked at you before. 

He reached between your bodies and found your clit, rubbing it in small, tight circles. Your walls began to clench uncontrollably as you felt your orgasm nearing. Your back arched as you leaned back, moving your hands to rest on his thighs as you rose and fell on his length. Marie leaned down, attaching her lips to your perked nipples and biting one gently, licking over the skin to soothe it before doing it again. 

Johnny reached down to finger her roughly as she ravaged your breasts. You continued to bounce, the new angle hitting that perfect spot inside you. “I’m gonna-” Marie whined out, her voice high and seductive. 

You nodded quickly, eyes screwed shut, “Me too!” You exclaimed, trying with all your might to stave off your orgasm for as long as possible but the pleasure was just building up too much. 

“Cum for me.” Johnny demanded from both of you and that was all it took for you to crash over the edge. Hot flashes stroke across your body in electric waves as your body failed to keep moving. He continued to lift your body for you, helping you ride out your high but his fingers dug tightly into your skin when your walls spasmed uncontrollably around him. 

“Fuck!” Marie whined out, her legs shaking against Johnny’s body as she came. 

You reluctantly rolled off Johnny’s body when you felt him lift you off and rested off to the side, breathing heavily while you recovered. He got up onto his knees next to you and stroked himself quickly, aggressively, using your slick to glide his hand across his erection, before painting Marie’s body in white ribbons. 

“And cut!” The director’s voice yelled out, harshly returning you from your daydream. Your eyes suddenly snapped as wide as a deer caught in headlights as the studio lights flicked on around you and the crew was visible again. The reality of everything came crashing down on you. Shit, that wasn’t some secret fantasy in your head. That was a pornographic threesome with Johnny Depp and some woman named Marie! 

You glanced over to the more experienced actress and breathed out a sigh of relief to see her looking the same way you did, completely shocked and a little disappointed at what you’d agreed to, but too pleased and amazed at what you’d just done to care too much before. 

Johnny, on the other hand, looked like he was already recovering with a cool exterior. He’d already begun climbing off the bed to get his clothes back on, leaving you and Marie alone on the bed to register what had happened. 

“Fuck me, that was hot.” Marilyn stepped onto the set, completely comfortable and practically ignoring the fact that he’d just watched his best friend fuck two women. You blushed a bright red. Great, you forgot that Marilyn Manson now would have the image of you fucking in his memories for forever. Not exactly the impression you typically went for in Hollywood… Or was it? 

The director watched over the footage, “They looked like they were enjoying themselves a little too much.” He snorted, pointing out something on the screen to Marilyn and you just prayed that it wasn’t a funny face you made in the heat of the moment. 

Marilyn waved him off, “No such thing as too much fun with sex, Paul.”  

Even though the crew were all doing their various jobs, you were convinced that every eye was on you. WIth a beet red face, you slinked out of the bed, hands covering your breasts and keeping your thighs as close together as you could, trying to shield your nudity from the room. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your body, it was just the feeling of being so exposed to a room full of strangers that made the blood rush to your face. 

You rushed around, trying to pick up whatever small scrap of clothing you could identify as yours. On the ground, beside the bed, was a crumpled heap of thin stringy black fabric. Your underwear! “Thank God!” You murmured to yourself, bending down to pick it up, only to have it fall in two, rendered unwearable. 

Your face dropped when you saw it and sighed, starting to become more comfortable in your naked skin but more so because you had no other choice at the moment. Could you even request clothing from the crew? Where did your actual clothes end up? Why did you even think that was a ridiculous request to want your clothes back? 

Just as you dropped the shredded underwear, ready to find a crew member and get your clothes back, you heard Johnny chuckle, low and sexy behind you, “You’re a great method actor,” He complimented with a wink and slight smirk, knowing damn well what he meant, the nonchalance of his entire being making you dumbfounded, “Perhaps, we could do this again under less professional circumstances.” 

And with the invitation, said in the most casual way - as if inviting you for coffee, he pushed the last button through the loop of his pristine white button up, and walked to find his best friend, leaving you standing on set, naked, clutching the underwear he’d literally ripped from your body just minutes earlier, eyes on his majestic figure and trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. 

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x reader) Pt. 5 An Old Love

Story summary: Reader and Darth Maul reunite for the first time in twelve years...and the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: Some angsty moments, Maul and reader fight, kind of a filler chapter

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

{masterlist}

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , current read, Part 6

You could feel some of the tension leave your shoulders after you spotted the outline of the ship. The storm was still raging on which greatly hindered any progress you, Savage, and Maul could make as you were being pelted by acid rain. Why none of you bothered to take shelter was beyond you. Regardless, you voiced no complaint but, instead, wordlessly grabbed some wood to hold over your head. Savage had followed your lead and grabbed a piece of metal to protect himself and Maul who was carefully plodding along beside you. You had elected to take the lead and Savage was bringing up the rear both to protect your flank from any junkers looking for a fight and to make sure Maul stayed close. Given his current state, it was unclear if he’d stay put if something spooked him. Most likely he would if you were going by the way he would occasionally reach out and grab at your tunic or your arm or even your belt. The action assured you that if he did get spooked, most likely Maul would resort to wrapping around you like some spider-snake hybrid before attacking whatever it was that had startled him in the first place. Strangely, it was almost like he was back to normal. Whenever he was near you, his priority became to protect-whether it was from an outside threat or even himself. 

..............................................

“Maul?” Your voice rang unnaturally through the trees of the forest Maul had led you into. “Maul, where are you taking me?” You weren’t nervous, per se, but Maul had a pension for attracting trouble wherever he went; you were certain he was cursed. So, even if all he sought was a little jaunt around the homing districts of some unimportant core world, it was almost guaranteed something would go wrong. You had learned to always memorize the path you walked when you were with him as a result. 

“Patience, (Y/n).” The rogue scolded softly as his grip on your hand tightened. Despite the fact you could not see his face, you were certain he was smiling.

You scoffed at his words. “Ironic to hear you speak of patience, Master I-can’t-be-bothered-to-wait-for-you-to-be-done-with-training-so-let-me-sneak-into-the-Jedi-temple-while-you’re-away-and-risk-getting-us-both-found.” A small chuckle fell from Maul at your longwinded ‘insult’. 

“And it’s ironic to hear you scold me for that, Padawan I-snuck-away-from-my-master-during-a-mission-just-to-comm-you-about-two-tookas-I-saw-that-had-the-cutest-little-ones.” Maul’s deep voice teased back, eliciting an eye roll from you aimed at the back of his head. 

“That was valid, Maul.” You contested and placed a light kick to his leg. 

Maul simply chuckled as he came to a stop. “Whatever you say, (Y/n).” He kicked back, a little harder than you had which pulled a surprised yelp from you. You opened your mouth to rebuke him but Maul cut in. “Close your eyes.” 

“What?” You asked, startled, as your friend turned around to face you, warm saffron to scarlet eyes locking with your almost plain in comparison (e/c). 

“You heard me. Close your eyes.” Maul ordered again, releasing your hand in favor of crossing his arms. “What, do you not trust me?” 

You tutted. “I was taught never to trust a rogue.” 

“Yet you followed me into the forest.” 

“...Fair point.” You hummed and let your eyes slide shut, hands coming up to cover your face for good measure. “Alright, now what?” 

“Now...now I need you to keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them.” His voice was unsteady. 

“Alright.” 

“And I need you to keep silent unless I ask you something, are you comfortable with that?” 

His words struck you as a bit odd but you decided to agree to his terms. “Yes, I am.” 

A whispered ‘thank you’ graced your ears before you heard Maul take a deep breath in. He released it in a heavy sigh and you could feel his hands gently wrap around your wrists so he could pull your hands from your face. Next, you felt him move till he was holding your hands in his, grip light indicating that if you felt the need to pull away, you could. “Padawan learner (Y/n) (L/n), apprentice to Jedi Master Ki-Adi Mundi and the first person brave enough to...to befriend me, I cannot tell you how many ways I imagined this moment. You have done some...confusing things to me, (Y/n). When I am with you, I do not feel the need to prove my worth. I do not feel as though I must be on guard. I do not feel like a monster.” You couldn’t help but swallow as your mind brought up the few ways this monologue could go. You weren’t certain you could handle any of the foreseeable outcomes with the grace and dignity and, more importantly, gentility your training demanded of you as a peacekeeper. What was peace if out of two in a conversation, one was fraught with turmoil? “And I regret the notion that I am unable to say this while looking in your eyes but I fear that if I did, I would not be able to say what needs to be said. However, if we are to continue seeing each other like this, I feel that I must be honest with you as you have been nothing but honest with me.” Maul took another deep breath and stepped closer to you. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin and you would be a liar if you denied that his proximity prompted certain thoughts to threaten a reemergence. “I fear that I am falling for you, (Y/n). Despite what your code ordains and despite what I am, I feel a great longing in my being that is only satiated by you.” Maul’s hands moved again, you could feel him lift your arms just slightly and a moment after, his lips dusted over your knuckles. Your breathing hitched at the sensation that shot up your arms. Like lightning, it surged straight to the center of your chest to lay a heavy stone in the middle of it.  The weight of his words settled swiftly, leaving you with an ache you had tried time and time again to quell. Tears began to form and you prayed that they wouldn’t slip from your eyes. Maker, you wanted him but you knew you would have to reject him-the code demanded it and you had already broken your master’s trust by sneaking behind his back like this; you couldn’t break it further by also disregarding the code that had guided you for so long. 

“And, although I know you’ve already made your choice, I have to tell you that I have never felt for anyone, ever. Not in any way-people are nothing but pawns but you...you, (Y/n), you make me feel alive and free and I feel for you so deeply it frightens me.” His breath hiccuped and you startled. Was he crying? Quickly you tried to sense for what he was feeling and you were immediately hit with a wave of emotion. Anger, desperation, hate, heartache, and longing invaded your senses and cracked your resolve in an instant ensuring the tears you had kept at bay fell freely. Maul gasped and released one of your hands in favor of wiping your tears with his thumb. “(Y/n), please, please don’t cry for me. I am not worth your tears.” His words only served to worsen the guilt that now plagued your heart. Seamlessly, Maul moved to pull you into an embrace. Although you had never so much as hugged, being embraced by Maul felt like the most natural thing in the galaxy. The action felt so familiar that you would not be surprised if someone alerted you that you and Maul had done this countless times in previous lives. You were still for what felt like an eternity as the galaxy seemed to begin collapsing inward around the two of you, the knowledge that this could be the last time you saw Maul only working to strengthen the brokenness growing in you. How cruel was it that the first time Maul was this open with you would be the last time you spoke? You couldn’t see him after this because you knew you couldn’t accept his feelings for you, no matter what you felt for him in return. The risk of falling to the dark side was too great. 

Eventually, you managed to dull the sting of raw emotion enough to become aware of the rhythmic caress of your back. Maul’s touch was soothing as his hand smoothed up and down. “M-Maul…” Your voice broke and Maul quickly shushed you. 

“Don’t speak, (Y/n).” A soft kiss landed on your crown and the tears began anew. “I know the guilt of denying me for my feelings alone would crush you so…” Maul softly pushed you away and you instinctively flicked your eyes open to meet his gaze. If he had indeed been crying, it was impossible to tell. His eyes which smoldered like dying embers hid a heavy resignation that you feared the worst of. Maul’s hands moved to your face, one remaining under your chin as he used the other to trace over the layout, it seemed like he was trying to memorize it. You found yourself reaching up to do the same. Maul’s eyelids fluttered at the touch as a strange buzz left his chest. You couldn’t help but smile when you realized he was purring. Sadly though, the moment ended and Maul pulled away. “I need to show you what I am, (Y/n). Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” Swiftly wiping away any of your tears, you nodded and did as he instructed all whilst trying to ignore the fear his words ignited. 

A heavy, round, metal object was laid across your open palms and your mind immediately pieced together that Maul had handed you a lightsaber. Presumably, it was the one that he always kept clipped to his belt: the one he never used. “Open your eyes, (Y/n).” Maul’s voice was fragile and you feel his gaze boring into the weapon he had set in your grasp. You were correct in your assessment of which lightsaber it was and you couldn’t help but admire the sleek design (which you thought complimented the appearance of its owner). Although, you were perplexed by why it was so long-it seemed rather cumbersome in comparison to your own dual lightsabers. Questioningly, you lifted your gaze to Maul. There was a strange sadness that seemed to haunt his eyes, making him look far older than the twenty-year-old man you knew him as. “Activate it.” 

How two simple words could shake you so violently you would never understand but you obliged despite the twist in your gut. It was then as you sought out the button which would ignite the blade that you noticed that the hilt had two ends. Which meant that it was a double-bladed lightsaber. You had heard of double-blades before, in fact, you recalled hearing about a Besalisk padawan who was fond of using them but something felt off about this one as your thumb hovered over one of the buttons. You pressed down. 

Immediately, the blade ignited and you felt your heart stop as the warm glow of the red saber burned into your eyes. “Maul...Maul, what is this?” It felt like someone was steadily crushing your chest. “What is this?” Your voice started to raise as the panic grew in you, your mind was already jumping through hoops on its way to a conclusion you refused to entertain. 

“You know what it is, (Y/n).” Maul explained quietly, his gaze trained on your face. “You know what I am.” Suddenly, his strange but entrancing eyes began to make sense to you; there was a reason no one else had eyes like him with the exception of only one other being. 

You shook your head frantically as you sheathed the blade. “No...no, they’re extinct. You can’t…” your hand tightened around the weapon as your voice faded away. “You can’t be a-a…” you knew what you had to do. Without warning, you threw the saber back at Maul who still caught it with ease despite the shock evident on his face. With a strangled yell, you grabbed your own lightsaber and attacked the traitor in front of you. Maul met your blow with infuriating ease and flicked you off of him. It didn’t deter you as you came at him full force once again. Your strikes were sloppy and far too loose for someone of your training but your mind was too drowned in foreign emotion to calculate your moves. Maul, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble at all.

“You can’t beat me, (Y/n).” The...Maul explained in a soft voice as he blocked every one of your blows-never even moving to attack you. 

“I don’t care.” You seethed as you pushed against him From behind his blade, Maul sighed and swiftly snagged his calf around yours before pulling you off balance. You landed with an undignified thump and scrambled to grab your saber which had fallen next to you. Before you could, Maul pulled it to himself and clasped in his left hand. 

“You should care, (Y/n).” Maul silenced you as he picked you up using the force and suspended you before him with an invisible grip around your waist. “Your rage has unbalanced you. Were I actually here to harm you, I would have had no trouble. You need to focus your anger if you ever want to defeat me.” 

“Why-” You wriggled in the air despite knowing you were held up through the force. “Why are you trying to teach me? Just kill me and be done with it.” 

Maul’s face fell at your bitter words. “I’m trying to teach you because I do not want to see you hurt. I’ve hurt you enough.” 

..........................................

The rapping of Savage’s knuckles on the closed ramp of the ship was what brought you out of your thoughts. With a shake of your head, you looked up to see Savage moving over to the viewport to wave at Wild, signaling him that you were back. Maul was still at your side, having found some form of solace in latching his hand around yours. His nails dug into your skin from the incredibly tight grip he kept but you dared not to voice a complaint. He was calm right now and you needed him to stay calm while you got on the ship. The number of tricks you had to use on Maul to keep him at peace was alarmingly similar to the amount you used to use on Wild when he was a tot. 

Presumably having gotten Wild’s attention, Savage came stalking back towards you and Maul. “We don’t tell Wild what Maul is-in regards to the relation.” You commanded the second he was within earshot. “At least not until we’ve...fixed him.” Savage was given no chance to argue as the ramp was already descending. Wild emerged from the cockpit just as Savage unceremoniously shoved Maul onto the ship as he had tried to run. 

“What the kriff is that?” The boy exclaimed in shock. 

You whipped your head around in an instant. “Language.” 

“Sorry, mother, may I be granted knowledge regarding what the kriff is the creature you have brought aboard?” Wild shot back. You pulled a face at him but were unable to fault him for the sass he’d undoubtedly picked up from you. Your son knew this and thus stuck out his tongue to further taunt you. 

“To answer your question, Wild, this is Darth Maul.” You explained as Savage ushered Maul into a little alcove of boxes that would most likely act as his impromptu home till the three of you could figure out what you were going to do. 

“That’s Savage’s brother?” Wild asked in disbelief, hesitantly approaching the other two zabraks. Maul was occupying himself by watching you as you sorted through the crates for some blankets. “What happened to him?” 

A nervous laugh fell from you as you briefly glanced at the two adult males“It’s...a long story.” You sighed and met Wild’s gold eyes-very aware of the matching pair still fixated on you. 

........................................................

“Why are you trying to teach me? Just kill me and be done with it.” You spat at the Sith before you. 

“I’m trying to teach you because I do not want to see you hurt. Not after I’ve hurt you enough.” Maul answered evenly though you could hear the barely concealed remorse etched into his voice. Slowly, Maul lowered you to the ground and released his hold on you which left you both in a standoff. The zabrak male was staring at the ground in front of your feet, looking as though he wishes the ground would open up to swallow him. 

You stepped forward but stopped short. Maul was a sith you had to take him down and alert the council. Your feelings on the issue did not matter. His compassion was a farce as were his feelings. Were you really going to let him use you? Your body answered when your heart remained silent. You snagged your second lightsaber from your belt and ignited it, blue light filtering into the area around you. “Your words are a lie, Sith. I am a Jedi who fears neither pain nor death.” You took a deep breath in, eyes trained on the light of the blade you held in front of you. “If I am to be cut down by you, then I must abide by the will of the force but I will not go down without a fight.” 

“(Y/n)...” Maul tried once more but you weren’t having it. You ran for him again, more focused now that you had a clear goal. Maul activated one side of his double-bladed lightsaber and immediately went on the defensive which infuriated you to no end. You had sparred with Maul before and he was merciless in his attacks then: always on the offensive. He was always trying to push you harder than your current training did. He had worked on teaching you how to embrace and utilize your emotions. You realized now that he was only trying to corrupt you. “You are leading with your right, try to hide that.” Maul instructed calmly as he flicked the tip of your blade away. You gritted your teeth at his remark but you did take care to disguise your dominant side a bit more thoroughly. “Your grip is a bit too tight-if you loosen it a little you will be able to maneuver the blade more fluidly.” 

“Stop it.” You spat at him, drawing back. With a spin, you brought your blade over your head and down on Maul who greatly underestimated the strength in that strike. He stumbled back and dropped on his knee. 

“Good, (Y/n), like that-channel your anger.” Maul commended warmly, your eye twitched in response. You pressed down against the red sith blade as hard as you could, willing yourself to overpower the man you had thought so highly of mere minutes ago. 

“Would you shut up?! I’m trying to fight you!” You yelled at him, not realizing what you had fallen for. Maul fell back and swiftly planted his feet on your torso. Your face paled as you realized what was about to happen but by then, it was too late, he had launched you into the air. You twisted around to prepare yourself to land on the ground but your feet never met it. 

“And that is why I am talking, (Y/n).” Maul explained quietly, one hand outstretched towards you. “I do not want to fight you.” 

“Then what do you want, Maul? What else could you possibly want? You lied to me, you made me fall for you, and you lied to me what else is there for you to want? Me to beg for my life, groveling in submission at your feet?” You were screaming, wildly clawing at the air as if that would help you. You were upset and you wanted to leave. 

“I want you.” Maul’s words made you freeze. “I want you to come with me, to leave the Jedi order behind and to be mine. I want you to be free, (Y/n).” The zabrak was speaking softly and padding towards you as he set your feet on the ground, lightsaber returned to the clip on his belt. 

You couldn’t even meet his gaze. “I can’t, Maul...the code-” “Damn the code, (Y/n), you’ve already broken it.” Maul exclaimed, cutting you off entirely. “I know you feel the same as I do-you ache for me as I long for you. Please, forsake the Jedi.” He drew closer with every step, his desperation evident until he could reach forward to take your face in his hands. “Come with me.” 

You stared at his chest, contemplating the mess that this evening had become. “Maul...I…” You looked up at him. “Is everything you said true?”

“Every word of it.” He moved closer so you were nose to nose. “I’ve fallen for you, (Y/n), and all I want is to fall farther.” 

<- Previous | Next ->

[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 5

Warnings: None   Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC   Summary:  “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…”  His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

"Admiral Zhao is not allowing ships in or out of this area." A soldier from Commander Zhao's fleet had stepped into Team Zuko's. He had basically barged in an demanded that the prince hand over all information in regards of the Avatar. And here Iroh the ever optimistic thought they were here for a game of Pai Sho.

"I've got nothing to report to Zhao," Zuko stated coldly as he looked at the floor and then glared at the soldiers that stood before him. "Now off my ship!" He roared casting Tsai to jump slightly as he pointed them out.

'Who is this Zhao?'

Tsai knew that it wasn't hard to get under Zuko's skin, but there was something about this man that seemed to really irritate him. Or maybe it was the fact they had been sailing northeast without a single sighting in the past couple of days. Not knowing much about the war or its generals or commanders she remained clueless to his man's identity, but would he would he have to crawl over her dead body if she was just going to let somebody take her destiny of bringing peace to the Fire Nation world. Approaching the table she read over a wanted poster that some of the soldiers were looking at.

"It says here that the Avatar can create tornadoes and run faster than the wind," one of the soldiers read aloud in awe. "Pretty amazing!" Another said.

Tsai blinked twice taken aback when an image of a boy no older than twelve which was painted on the poster. He was just a child, a bald child with eager eyes and a tattooed arrow pointing down the middle of his forehead. "But he's just a child," she gaped in surprise. All this time she had been imagining a very old man. But if he was a child- why on Earth hadn't Zuko been able to capture him?

She didn't know much about air benders. No one did, after all they had been extinct for the past one hundred years. Part of her wished the ship had a library where she could research information about the Avatar, but wait maybe there was something she could do...

"Tsai, care to join us for a game of Pai Sho? I think they are getting better," Iroh called. "I'll pass for now. I have to write to my family," it wasn't a complete lie. "Good luck gentleman," she smiled sweetly at the men making some of them swoon.

Xxx

'Brother,

I hope you are well. I know I have been gone less than a week. I hope you don't miss me too much. I also wish I could tell you where I am, but it is hard to pin point. We are presently sailing northwest hot on the Avatar's trail. Can you believe it?

Iroh has been a most gracious host. I enjoy spending time with him, he really reminds me of grandpa, and the prince well- tell mother not to get too excited, but he does have some redeeming qualities (and a terrible temper as well).

Mecha, I need to ask you yet another favor. Please send me all information you might have on air benders or air bending. Turns out the Avatar is only a child! A slippery one that is if he's had Prince Zuko chasing him all over the world with no success.

Lots of love to the family,

- Your Sister Tsai'

Tsai came down from the commander tower after having sent out a fire hawk home to her brother. Coming down she encountered a fire show of the prince angrily kicking and punching bold strokes of dangerous fire in all directions. He even appeared to be radiating anger.

"Hey, you O.K.?" She found herself asking once again. She put her hands on her waist as she eyed him carefully barely dodging a fire blast which headed in her direction. Part of her suspected that had not been an accident. He wore a maroon training tunic that showed off his toned arms.

"Perfectly fine," he grumbled. Obviously not pleased. "Is it because of that man Zhao?" She pressed on. "We can't give up yet! We can still find the Avatar before him," she said in a determined tone. "We?"He scoffed incredulously.

As far as he knew Tsai brought nothing to table except for maybe tea and Pai Sho. She nodded holding a fist to her chest a determined glint in her honey brown eyes. "I know we can do it!"

"She's right Prince Zuko," Iroh suddenly appeared. "I was becoming worried when you hadn't ordered your men in the past hour."

"How? With Zhao's resources, it's just a matter of time before he captures the Avatar," he stated upset. He turned and lowered his voice into almost a whisper, "My honor, my throne, my country... I'm about to lose them all." A somber gust of wind passed by.

Seeing him like this. Seeing anybody like this broke the girl's mushy heart. She looked at him sadly.

"But you have something Zhao doesn't have!" She said animatedly.

Both Iroh and Zuko turned to look at her with expecting eyes. "Something worth fighting for!"

His fists clenched at his sides in fury. "That's absolutely useless!" He roared in frustration. She flinched a little at his tone. I mean she was only trying to help...

"Prince Zuko, a word from Zhao's men. Apparently the Admiral has the Avatar on his compound grounds."

Tsai closed her eyes not wanting to witness the volcano that was about to explode in front of her. 'Talk about bad timing.' Her hair was whipped wildly by several heat waves.

Shutting her eyes even tighter she set her mind to it, she was determined to do something about this. If Zhao had the Avatar that meant that the odds of her having a chance at achieving her grandfather's dream would be destroyed.

Xxx

It was already the evening. Zuko braced himself for the battle that he would encounter tonight. He put his twin blades on his back and shed his princely identity becoming a Blue Spirit of the night. He was ready to sneak out when a gentle knock made him freeze on the spot.

"H-Hey," a voice said softly.

It was Tsai.

"I'm really sorry about today. Just know I'm going to try my best to help out more from now on. I understand if you're still upset. Well, have a good night then." He hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath all of this time. He slowly released it when he heard her foot steps trail off.

Meanwhile Tsai tip toed around the ship until she reached the deck where some of the soldier's were currently lounging keeping their night guard.

"Gentleman," she coed in a soft voice.

Their jaws dropped at the sight. One wolf whistled inappropriately. They were basically salivating at the sight of the lady before them. Her eyes were coated with cleverly applied dark make up, more than she usually wore. Perfect for an evening look. Her lips were rogue and her features had been professionally contoured. Crimson hair cascaded down her back in full waves. "Anybody feel like taking me ashore?" She popped her hip to the side dramatically batting her eyelashes.

A few moments later Tsai was ashore standing outside the gates of the Pohuai Stronghold  She noted the way it was heavily armed and had no trouble batting her eyelashes getting inside. One of the few advantages of war was that these men hadn't seen a woman in ages.

xxx

"Tell me, how does it feel to be the only airbender left?" Zhao taunted the Avatar as he rounded him in a chamber. "Do you miss your people?" He pressed on leaning maliciously close towards the boy.

Taking in a massive breath the Avatar blew the man hard against the metal door making him lose his balance and ungracefully fall on his face. "Blow all the wind you want. Your situation is futile. There is no escaping this fortress and nobodyis coming to rescue you." He scowled.

"Admiral Zhao," a soldier suddenly entered the chamber. "You better come quick Sir." he urged, "Y-You've got an important guest," he adjusted his helmet his face slightly turning scarlet.

Zhao raised an eyebrow with intrigue. He had not been expecting anybody. Could it have been that Fire Lord Ozai had sent a personal gift to him? He ran a hand through his hair combing it down in a narcissistic matter.

Xxx

Tsai had been brought to a waiting room which wasn't nearly as elegant as the one in her home. She sat comfortably with a relaxed expression on her features, her poise and feet had been placed in a strategic way which she knew highlighted her best features. (She had also stuffed her bra with two apples although she would never confess that to anyone). She wore a flattering emerald green kimono dress that fit her in all the right places a jade butterfly clip held half of her hair up elegantly.

"I wasn't expecting any company tonight." A man whom Tsai assumed to be Admiral Zhao walked in. He air of arrogance seemed to follow him. He was a middle-aged military man with dark gray hair and sharp sideburns that made his features appear more angular. A smug smirk twisted on his lips. "Ms. Haru of Hu Xin," his eyes scanned her body tracing every curve and inch of her visible skin.

"I had heard tales of the man, the myth, the legend-"

Tsai almost threw up in her mouth. She could not believe she had just said that. It was official she had been reading way too many cheesy plays. As disgusting as this was, she had a plan, and a part to play if she wanted to succeed. She rose to her feet slightly draping one of the sleeves down to display a bare shoulder. "Had to come see it myself. Meet the infamous Admiral Zhao." She spoke as she rounded him. His eyes followed her, enjoying every minute of having his ego stroked. "Congrats on the promotion," she spoke lowly in an attempt to sound both older and more mature. How old was he anyways?

"How old are you Haru?" He said with an edge of suspicion raising up an eyebrow. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to ask a lady for her age?" She let out a throaty chuckle as she flirted. "I'm almost twenty," she lied with skill tossing him back a look.

Tsai lied through her teeth the entire night. She had managed to convince a high ranking military officer, an admiral, that she was around town visiting her cousin and upon hearing the news that the now 'famed' admiral was in town, well she just had to visit. It was such an absurd lie and Zhao appeared to be such an ego maniac that he totally ate it up. The two were currently sitting on one of the sofa seats. Both were drinking some wine that the admiral had been reserving for a special occasion. With every minute that passed he inched closer and closer to her wanting more than just hand holding or gentle strokes. Tsai's ruse was beginning to collapse. She had to get out of here and fast. She chuckled nervously as the man stroked her waist and slowly inched his hand lower and lower. He was also leaning in closer-

"Ah-I'm-Um.. I need to use the restroom!" She declared jumping to her feet. The Admiral collapsed on the sofa and turned to look at her with an elbow propped holding his head up. "Don't be long," he purred.

Knowing him he probably found his intimidation to be 'endearing' or something twisted amongst those lines.

The girl tiptoed out in to the hallway and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding once she was out of his sight. Great- now she had to find the Avatar. If she was Zhao were would he keep the Avatar? Probably close by, tall in this tower. She rushed up the stairs running as fast as she could. She really had no time to waste.

Xxx

The Blue Spirit had successfully infiltrated Zhao's compound base. He snuck in floor by floor until he reached the top of the tower. However, he was surprised when he did not encounter any soldiers. Only evidence of a conflict. Abandoned helmets rolled down the empty hallways. Marks of conflicts, stains of blood and slashes had scarred the walls of the military compound.

There was also water in the floor and a wooden bucket which had been smashed to bits and pieces.

'Just- what happened here?' Zuko thought to himself. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Somebody had beat him to it. There was somebody else here.

xxx

Aang heard what sounded like punched being thrown followed by painful screams. He brazed himself and kept his eyes focused on the steel door that was across from him. It was then that the door opened and a beautiful woman walked in. She exhaled sharply quickly running her hands through her wavy red colored hair combing it back into place. His jaw dropped as she ran towards him. Her emerald dressing robes fluttering behind as she did.

"There's no time," she stood before him and upon closeness Aang realized she was only a teenager. One in a very poor disguise. "Who are y-" He began to ask. "No time," she hissed glaring and pulled an apple from the inside of her robe slamming it against his open mouth silencing him. She appeared to be picking at the locks with the back of her hair pin. It was then that the door behind the two was once again shut.

xxx

Both Aang and Tsai couldn't believe what they were seeing an individual wearing black with a Blue Spirit theater mask entered the room. Aang bit the apple hard the fruit collapsing on the floor as he swallowed almost choking on the piece of apple.

Xxx

Zuko blinked twice, shook to his core. He was thankful for the mask for it hid his expression of shock and disbelief. Was he hallucinating?

'How had- there was no way- but- it had to be.'

Pulling out his twin blades be began an elaborate display of mastery over the blades. The Avatar let out a loud scream. The lady wearing the emerald dress kimono stood before him pushing him behind, shielding him with her body.

"Shh!!" She hissed as the Avatar screeched for his life. The masked individual came closer and evenly sliced the Avatar's hand restrains. Aang felt his arms drop as the blood rush back to them. The Avatar and his lovely savior looked at the masked individual in shock.

Xxx

Zuko stood mere inches away from her. Now he was more certain than ever. It was most definitely her. It was Tsai and she appeared to be wearing some type of disguise. Regardless, she looked-

He shook his head. He snapped back to reality realizing that both his uncle's royal guest and the Avatar were starring at him with their eyes the size of golf balls. He lowered his weapons also freeing the Avatar's feet. Tsai and Aang exchanged a look as Zuko walked towards the door. "What's going on?"

The red-headed beauty slowly walked over to the Blue Spirit. Her light brown eyes were focused on him. Friend or foe? She measured her opponent. There was something familiar about his stance, about his posture, something that she couldn't put her finger on.

It was impossible. Zuko remained in shock. Not a single hair out of place, her clothes remained impeccable with no signs of struggle. He looked at her hands both resting at her sides without a weapon.

Also- how on Earth had she even gotten of the ship?

"I think he's here to save you," she spoke after making a decision. Sticking a hand into her dress she pulled out an apple from her chest, her expression serious. "Listen here," She reached for the spirit's dark shirt and fisted it pulling the mask close to her face. She paused for a moment attempting to catch a glimpse of any notable feature underneath the mask. "I have important things to do, places to be-" she hissed out. Her grip becoming tighter.

Zuko had never seen her like this, had never seen her eyes hold such darkness in them.

"I'm entrusting you with the Avatar Blue Spirit and I've got news for you. If anything happens to him. If there is a scratch on his bald head, a broken limb, if any harm comes to him-" Her hand trembled slightly before the apple she had been holding in her hand was crushed into a juice mash just with her grip strength. The message was loud and clear. "Got that?" She finished menacingly before letting go pushing the masked individual slightly.

"Wait!" Aang called out. "Who are you?!"

It was too late. She was gone.

xxxxx

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CHAPTER MASTERLIST

[bobapixels]

Odds for Juliette please!

yay thank u very much for the ask! we love Juliette in this house! ♡

1 and 5 have been answered here.

3. What does their voice sound like? I've always imagined Juliette having a low and quiet voice.

7. Do they sleep with their socks on? Gross, no. Sorry sock sleepers.

9. What do they do to relax? Either taking a nap, putting on her favourite album (NCT Empathy letsgooo!) , or going for a drive.

11. Are they easy going? Juliette's on the more introverted side, but she is easy going when it comes to people she can call her friends. She's always had a bad habit of going along with whatever they say.

13. How often do they shower? Usually once a day, but sometimes she's so tired she falls asleep before she gets the chance to shower. She'll never skip more than 3 days.

15. Do they keep track of their calendar? She has to, because she needs to know what day her aunt and uncle need her help at the boba shop!

17. Are they on any medication? I want to research into it more before answering, but I feel like she takes some medication to help her sleep/suppress nightmares related to her backstory..? ;w;

19. Do they get sick easily? She naturally has a warmer body temperature so it's not easy for her to catch a cold. However, her alcohol tolerance is pretty low and she's been sick after drinking too much too many times.

21. Do they have a high pain tolerance? I'd say average..?

23. What is the thing that makes them most uncomfortable? Being forced into a conversation she doesn't want to have. Whether it be with a random person approaching her, or the boyfriend of her ex-best friend... :(

25. How does your character cry? Juliette has a very muffled cry that often leads into hyperventilation as she tries to suppress it. She's always been one to put her head down when crying, so as to not attract any pity.

27. Will they have a happy ending? Who knows? ;w;

29. Do they have a comfort food? Boba!

31. What are they like when they're drunk? She's a lot more outgoing than usual! The Juliette that usually stands to the corner will be the one leading the party games when she's drunk.

32. What are their eating habits like? She snacks A LOT throughout the day, to the point where when it's mealtime, she's not hungry and barely touches her food.

33. If left to their own devices would they forget to eat/shower, etc? It's impossible for Juliette to forget to eat because she's the type to either eat or hit her juul just to keep her mouth busy. As for showering... same as 13.

35. How do they generally have their hair? She's very well acquainted with box bleach. She's bleached her whole hair blonde and tries to redo her roots every couple of months.

37. Do they have a signature look? Heart clips in her hair!

39. What's the weirdest habit they have? I don't think it's a weird habit, but all of my OCs share parts of me, so of course I wouldnt find this weird..! But sometimes when she's bored she empties out her entire closet and tries every possible outfit combination on.

41. Have they ever committed a crime? What teenager hasn't stolen something from the mall? uwu;;

43. What could generally be associated with them? Personally, I associate Juliette with summer, the sky and teal (of course!) as seen on her pinterest board.

45. Do they like public displays of affection? She doesn't like it at all, however I have a feeling her future partner (hi @icedplumbs) is going to. They're like the sun and the moon! ♡

47. What is their 'type'? She's usually attracted to the quiet, brooding, mature looking boys. The type of boys that stay in their corner minding their business and look hot doing so.

49. How easily do they get attached to things? She used to get attached to things very easily. Her hometown, her friends. But she eventually learned that attachment only leads to hurt.

[captainofthebrokentides]

Briefcases and Blood Splatter Benny Colon x OC - Chapter 1: In the beginning

Hello! This is my first Benny Colon fic, I don’t think there’s enough out there for him, so I thought I’d give it a crack. This first chapter is essentially introductions to get us off the ground running, so please dont judge too harshly!! :) Thanks for reading.    1622 words

Olivia Byrne looked up at the towering mirror like building and straightened the creases out of her jeans. Her work bag felt heavier today than it had in a long time, she hadn’t worked for an independent company in a long time – she’d been getting comfy in her position with the police, let alone provided evidence to a trial analysis team. She’d heard great things about Dr Jason Bull and his team, but that didn’t make the uncomfortable swirl of nerves go away.

“Come on Liv.” She told herself encouragingly. Olivia had always been a bit shy, and the personal letter and request from Dr Bull that she attend and help them with this trial had not helped to cure her of that.

With a deep breath she put on a bright smile and entered through the main doors. A bored looking receptionist at the main desk pointed her towards an elevator and informed her she needed floor 22.

Olivia clipped her visitor’s badge to her blouse and gave herself an affirming nod. She knew she could do this.

 TAC was huge. Olivia hadn’t been quite prepared for the size, or modernity of it. Every wall was glass, and people milled around, talking loudly and pointing at large monitors made up of multiple screens. She was in awe as she looked around, her palms feeling a little over warm with nerves.

“Olivia Byrne?” A sophisticated blond woman made her way over, a kind smile on her face.

“That’s me.”

The blond lady’s smile brightened, and she offered a perfectly manicured hand, “I’m Marissa, I work closely with Dr Bull. We’re really glad you were willing to help us with this case, we’ve never had to bring a forensic pathology specialist in before, it’s quite exciting really.” Her eyes sparkled kindly.

Olivia wiped her palm on her jeans quickly before shaking Marissa’s outstretched hand. “Hello, please call me Liv, I’ve never been one for formal, which is why I usually spend all my time in a lab. I’m a little nervous, but I hope I can help.” Marissa looked faintly surprised at her outburst. “And I’m babbling a lot aren’t I? I do that when I’m nervous, I’m sorry.”

Marissa chuckled lightly and shook her head. “Don’t you worry, there’s no one to be nervous of here. We’re all like a big family. I’m sure you’ll fit in while you’re with us. How was your flight?” Marissa started walking down the corridor, motioning for Olivia to follow along with her.

“Uh long, but good, thank you. It’s nice being away from London for a while.”

“I can imagine, but I’m afraid New York is no less chaos. I did like London when I visited there though, there’s something about it.” She stopped at a frosted glass door and swiped her ID card, there was a beep and the door opened an inch. “A few of our techs are setting up your lab for the case, just down the hall.”

Olivia’s eyes widened as she stared in disbelief at the petite blonde lady, “You’ve built me a lab?”

Marissa opened her mouth to answer, but she was cut off by a deep masculine tone coming from inside the room. “Of course you have a lab. We need you to do your best work while you’re here.”

Marissa bobbed her eyebrows and grinned good naturedly, as she pushed the door open and stepped aside for Olivia to enter.

Two men inhabited the room, one at a desk – he was blonde with glasses and a typical psychologist’s cardigan. Internally she smirked, this must be Dr Bull.

“I’m Dr Bull, and welcome to TAC, Miss Olivia Byrne. I’m glad you could make it. I’ve heard a lot about your work for Scotland yard. I took a look at the Parson triple murder case you worked on a couple of months ago. You’re very good at what you do.”

“Thank you, Dr Bull.”

“Bull or Jason” Bull cut her off waving his hand. Liv nodded and started again.

“Thank you, Jason.”

“You’re honoured to be given the choice, you must be good.” A deep, almost lyrical voice said from the other side of the room. Olivia turned to look at it’s owner and her heart skipped a little beat. He had perfect dark hair, olive skin that looked incredibly smooth and the darkest, most intense eyes she had ever seen. He sat in a large leather arm chair, his hands resting casually on his thighs. The expensive looking three piece suit just added to his suave charm.

Bull sighed and gestured toward the other man “Benny Colon, our in house council.”

Liv swallowed down her nerves and offered him her hand, acutely aware that she wished she’d repainted her nails. “Hello, lovely to meet you.”

He took her hand in both of his and gave her a firm handshake, his fingers giving her a reassuring squeeze. “The pleasure is mine.”

Liv couldn’t fight the dusky pink flush that threatened to burn her cheeks, and turned her face away quickly.

“So,” Bull started, regaining her attention. His eyes flicked momentarily between her and Benny, Olivia could almost see the cogs turning in his head as the corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. “How much do you know about our current case? I gather it’s not reached the news in good ol’ England?”

“It hasn’t, but I sent Liv a file on the case to look over on her flight. It laid out all the details we have for her.” Marissa said, offering her one of the spare chairs in the room.

Olivia shook her head, deciding to remain standing after such a long flight. Between plane seats and the three cabs she’d had to take since she left home yesterday, she had begun to lose the feeling in her backside. “Thank you, but I feel like I’ve been sitting for a lifetime, I need to get my blood flowing again.” She did however, place her work back on the ground and crouched next to it, retrieving out the folder she had been sent. “Let’s see … rich boy turns 18, uses daddy’s money to host a big bash on board his, or daddy’s yacht. Does what teenage boys do, and has sex with a pretty girl, only problem is, the pretty girl is found strangled and washed up on the beach …”

Benny nodded his head appreciatively, and smiled at her “Well, that was concise.” Olivia couldn’t help but smile back, his dimples were one of the most attractive things she thought she’d ever seen.

“Thank you, Mr Colon”

He held his hands up and continued to smile at her reassuringly, his chocolate eyes sparkling with mirth. “Benny, please.”

“Benny” she repeated, nodding and smiling back. She held his gaze for a couple of seconds before directing her attention back to her temporary boss. “So what would you like me to do? If you have a lab I can probably run all manner of tests, I could even pull a tox screen if you feel it’s needed, my inhouse results might not be as clear cut as a designated tox lab, but I can do my best. I can test for outside or internal factors as well, judge whether anything triggered her body to shut down prior to the strangulation …” Bull just sat back, watching her with an amused look on his face, twirling his glasses around in one hand. Olivia looked back to Marissa, “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” Marissa laughed gently and nodded, reaching out to pat her hand.

“You tend to over think when in unfamiliar situations. You speak whatever is going through your head in those moments, like you can’t control it. It’s a nervous tick. And here you are, in a new building, in a different country, surrounded by people you don’t know. Your brain is going into overdrive.” Bull analysed, looking smug.

“In other words.” Benny soothed, standing up from his chair, “You’re nervous and that’s ok. We’ll have you settled in before you know it.” He came to stand beside her and placed a large, warm hand on her shoulder blade. “I need to get down to mock court to go over the opening statement, let me show you to your lab, you can get some peace in there.” He smelled amazing, and with every subtle movement a waft of expensive came her way. Sandalwood, leather and citrus assaulted her nose.

“A good plan.” Bull also got his feet, nodding at her. “We’ve manged to secure some blood and hair samples if you could look them over for any abnormalities or anomalies.”

“Sure” Olivia smiled reassuringly, and nodded, blood and hair follicle analysis were easy, her bread and butter back home. She went to pick up her work bag, but as her fingers closed around the handle warm, soft fingers collided with hers. Benny, being the gentleman Liv could already tell he was, picked up her bag for her and gestured for her to leave the room, him following closely behind her.

Marissa watched the pair go, a contented look on her face. With a little sigh she turned to her boss who was also watching his old friend and new employee leave.

“She seems sweet. If a little nervous.”

Bull nodded and put his glasses on to look through some paperwork on his desk.

“She’ll warm up. Benny will look after her.”

“But Benny can be a bit … aloof … sometimes …”

“When have I ever given you cause not to trust me, Marissa? Believe me, she’ll have him eating from her palms in no time.” Marissa scrunched her nose up and looked at Bull. “Figuratively speaking.”

@lets-love-little-me​ @reelovesbennycolon​

[experimentalmadness]

A Bad Bet

Heyo, back with more Harvey/Jacky one-shots. Y’all have been so nice in sharing and liking these little stories. Thank you! :D If you’re looking for more content with this bonkers OC you can check out her tag here. 

---

“What is it that you want to do, Jacky?”

She was busy cleaning off the espresso machine before getting started on wiping down the counter. Most of the lights were off except for the ones in the front. She could hear rain coming down from outside, one of those sudden summer downpours. The AC was on high in the bakery and it was a rare Gotham night that actually made her happy to live in this city.

“Break into this whiskey after I count out the till?” she smiled to herself, casting a glance at the one lone customer left in the shop.

Harvey Dent sat at a corner table, surrounded by papers, books, and a laptop. He’d been held up in that position since he’d come in from his office three hours ago. “That’s not what I meant,” he clarified, wagging a pen in her direction.

“You’re using me to procrastinate, Harv,” Jacky countered, ducking down to get at the cabinets below the register.

“C’mon, humor me.”

She grinned at the sound of his voice, even though she couldn’t see him. “I dunno,” she said as she cleaned. “Keeping this place together is about all I can handle.”

“You told me this was always your sister’s dream, and Miri’s clearly better at it.”

“Excuse me?” Jacky popped her head back up, glaring at the smug man across the way. “Who exactly has been making you coffee for the last few hours?”

Oh, the crimes she was capable of committing to get a smile out of that man. He’d been so stressed recently with the DA elections, the move to get Maroni behind bars, the only time she saw him now was when he was using her shop as a work space after hours. And then only because Gilda was already drowning in his paperwork that he left around their apartment, and he knew full well Jacky would ply him with better coffee than whatever he was getting in his office.

“Okay, alright, I’ve thought about going back to school sometimes. Not sure for what, but...nah it’s stupid.” Jacky shook her head waving off Harvey’s renewed enthusiasm at her answer. “When would I have time to do that, anyway?”

It took most of her extra funds just to keep the place running, not to mention Miri’s medical expenses. Something told her Falcone wouldn’t be too keen on funding his hitwoman’s college funds. Even the idea seemed absurd.

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Harvey’s voice cut through the despairing thoughts rattling around in Jacky’s head. “Take some courses at Gotham U at night if you have to.”

Sure, only doing prime working hours. Jacky rolled her eyes, grateful she had the distance of the counter as Harvey came over. He had that conspiratorial look in his eyes.

“No way,” she said, poking him in the chest “And stop procrastinating so I can close up.”

Harvey pulled out the silver dollar he kept in his pocket. She knew instantly what he was going to do. That little coin flip routine of his was so incredibly cheesy. And charming. He leaned over the counter. “Make a little bet with me, Jacky.”

“Seriously, Harvey, I’m happy with the way things are,” she lied through her teeth as those blue eyes trapped her in place.

“Heads you’ll at least put in an application. Tails, you win and you can stay working in your sister’s place and I’ll never bring this up again. Ready?”

“You’re not getting any more free drinks from me, Harv,” Jacky teased, watching him toss the coin up in the air.

Harvey didn’t even watch the coin, opting instead to give Jacky a wink as he caught it one-handed. He kept his hand closed tightly around the coin as another devious smile stole across his face. “What do you want it to be, Jacky?”

The bell over the door to the shop chimed and Jacky’s good mood vanished as Carmine Falcone flanked by two of his men stepped into the shop. She dropped the rag and immediately straightened up, leaning away from the counter where she had been inches from conspiring with the new would-be DA. “Mr. Falcone, I was just about to close up for the night.”

Taking his cues from Jacky, Harvey also stepped aside. She watched an unnerving illusion steal across Harvey’s face, wiping away any visible markers of her friend. Those bright blue eyes went ice cold. The smile vanished into a thin, hard line. He pocketed the coin, but his hands were still balled into fists.

Falcone did not seem phased in the least. He assessed the other customer in the shop with a cursory glance and a civil nod before reverting his attention back to Jacky. “You’re closed now. Tell your last customer to get out.”

“Of course. Mr. Dent, I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you would—?”  

“Like hell,” Harvey snarled.

Oh no, not here, not now. Tension gave Jacky a spine of iron as she stepped around the counter. “Let me just help you gather your things.” Her voice was impossibly even, calm, and devoid of all emotion.

Harvey looked as if he was about to haul off and clock Falcone across the face. Jacky saw every outcome in between those seconds of her moving towards the table. The two men with Falcone would pull out their concealed revolvers and shoot Harvey, multiple times, even though they were good enough to kill him with one bullet. Then she’d be told to clean up the blood, and at this distance she’d be coated in it herself. Or, Harvey would swing, and they’d only kneecap him and she’d watch as he’d be dragged into the car that was no doubt out front. Then she’d be getting in. They’d go to a warehouse on the docks, somewhere secure where Falcone would tell Jacky to kill him. To make an example of him. Jacky could not make her mind imagine the look on Harvey’s face.

Mechanically she swept up the papers, closed the laptop, took the books and shoved as much as she could into his briefcase, all the while watching as Falcone and Harvey stared one another down. “Mr. Dent, if you would?” her teeth were going to break if she had to keep talking to him like this. “I’d hate to damage something valuable,” she held out the case.

A small line of tension released as Harvey took a step towards her, breaking contact with Falcone. He took the briefcase, grabbing her wrist at the same time. “Please,” Jacky whispered as quietly as she could, keeping her face neutral, impassive. She did not know this man, he was just a customer, and if Falcone so much as saw her twitch in recognition they’d both be dead tonight. “Go.”

Harvey’s grip tightened on her arm, his head gave a small shake. “Jacky…”

“Thank you so much for coming,” she pulled out of his grasp and opened the door for him. Every second he hesitated she saw new ways he’d die tonight. He hadn’t even been elected DA yet and every crime family in Gotham knew Harvey Dent. Falcone had been ranting about him for weeks. Even if they both did everything right tonight Falcone could still decide the timing was too perfect. He was alone. And Jacky was right there, and she had her gun under the counter. All Falcone had to do was give the word.

But Harvey was going to walk out of here tonight and she was going to see him alive tomorrow if it was the only decent thing she ever did in her life.

He walked slowly, mechanically towards the door. Murderous intent radiating with every step away from Falcone. In his eyes, she saw the promise of violence and worry, raw and palpable for her. He didn’t know this was only a surprise business meeting. He’d think the worst. On any other night, if it were any other scenario this city had to offer, Jacky would let that tug on already vulnerable heartstrings. The second he was beyond the threshold she slammed the door shut, bolting it. He lingered at the window while Jacky frantically tried to tell him to leave with only her eyes.

“It’s late, Mr. Falcone,” she said, turning back to her boss with a friendly smile. “I can still get you something if you’d like.”

He never came to the shop after hours.

He or his boys would come by during the day and Miri, smart as whip, knew it was in her best interest to keep them happy. She never questioned why Falcone’s men frequented her little bakery. It was Gotham.

“Take a seat, Miss Ripley,” Falcone gestured to her own table as he pulled up a chair.

This wasn’t a business meeting.

Jacky sat down as the two other men took up space on either side of her. She recognized them both, but they wouldn’t make eye contact. Falcone rifled through a briefcase of his own before he pulled out yesterday’s paper and laid it flat on the table. And Jacky felt real fear lock her limbs into place.

The splashy page six spread had a picture in black and white of her and Harvey Dent dancing at Wayne Manor. Jacky had cut a clip of it and stashed it in a shoebox under her bed in her room. She liked the woman in that photo, happy, carefree. She liked how the photographer managed to get the shot where Harvey was laughing at a stupid joke she had told. She liked how Harvey had been right and that getting her name in the Gazette had been leading to a slight bump in customers. It almost looked like a little window into a world where a girl like her belonged with a man like Harvey Dent.

“You’re moving up in the world, Miss Ripley,” Falcone said, reminding her exactly why a girl like her could never belong to a man like Harvey. “You’ve gotten some friends in rather high places.”

“Mr. Falcone, I had to accept that invite...it was good for the shop—”

“What have you been telling that lawyer?”

“Nothing! Jesus, sir, I wouldn’t do that after all you’ve done for me and my family. Look, he comes into the shop. We’re near the courthouse, what can I do? I gotta make nice when I’m helping Miri out.” Somehow Jacky managed to keep her voice calm while her heart hammered through her ribs.

“You see why this makes me nervous?” Falcone sat back, eyeing her with a look of disappointment.

“I do, Mr. Falcone,” she nodded a little too vigorously.

“And then I come in and see him here,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Jacky, what are we going to do about this little problem?”

“Look, you want him gone, boss, I’ll tell him he can’t come back to the shop.”

“I suspect that’s not going to work the way you think, Miss Ripley. Your knight in shining armor is still watching us.”

Jacky forced herself to turn around slowly. Sure enough, there was Harvey, looming in the rain-soaked night under the street lamp. What was the idiot thinking? “You know what that tells me, Ripley? It tells me you and Mr. Dent have a rather cozy relationship. And that’s what troubles me.”

“Mr. Falcone, have I ever done you wrong?” She was betting on a lot here, punching way above her weight.

“No,” he replied, settling back against the chair, folding his hands on his lap.

“Ever had a job go bad? Ever compromised your family?” Jacky turned back to face him, locking eyes with him, feigning something that tasted like bravery. Falcone shook his head to each of her questions. “Then why would I do something so phenomenally stupid now? He’s a customer, Mr. Falcone, nothing more.”

“While we’re keeping score here, Ripley, do me the courtesy of not lying to me.”

“Sir, I’m—”

“He’s not just a customer.”

Jacky’s impassive eyes went wide ever so slightly. It was enough. “...no…” she whispered.

“You’ve been quite friendly for...two years by my count. Now, Mr. Dent wasn’t much of a problem until his recent forays onto the political stage. I could overlook your dealings with a prosecutor because, as you said, your loyalty and work have always been impeccable. You’re a smart girl, Ripley. You know what happens next.”

Jacky sagged in the chair. “Don’t...don’t take it out on the shop, Mr. Falcone. This is Miri’s place, not mine. She’s been nothing but good to you and she doesn’t know...she doesn’t know, Mr. Falcone. Now look, I’ll sit here and take it. I know it’s business. I’ll fix this after, you know I will.”

Falcone stood up from his chair, rapping his knuckles on the wooden tabletop. “You see that’s why I’ve always liked you, Ripley. You have a sense of honor, however small,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll leave the shop as is. Your sister’s a fine woman, none of us want to upset her, do we boys?”

The two men on either side of Jacky shook their heads. Falcone made his way to the door. “Your knight seems to have left you, Miss Ripley,” he remarked as he stared out onto the empty street. “If he comes back I’m afraid we’ll be revisiting upsetting that sister of yours. Good night, Jacqueline.”

***

It wasn’t as bad as she had thought.

The men had only broken one table.

And Jacky guessed they’d only broken two of her ribs. Fair deal.

She sat, slumped, against the wrecked table legs, blood dripping from a cut above her forehead. Her nose was broken. Again. She poked her tongue around her mouth. No missing teeth, at least. All things considered, she’d gotten off easy. She’d have a nasty black eye and a swollen jaw for a few days and the rest of Falcone’s crew would know exactly what happened to her next time they saw her. Lesson well learned.

She was just contemplating getting to her feet and cleaning the place up before Miri could come home when she heard a bang from the back door. It repeated in quick succession as Jacky hauled herself upright, on hand clutching her ribs as she hobbled to the counter for her revolver. This night just didn’t want to end. The banging turned frantic as the door suddenly crashed over, hanging off its hinges, leaning awkwardly against the baking trays stacked up on the sink.

Jacky already had the gun out. If it was Falcone’s men coming back for the actual jump, she’d fire first, beg forgiveness later. If Falcone wanted her dead he ought to have shot her while she was still sitting in the chair expecting a business deal.

She dropped the gun as Harvey Dent came careening into the shop.

He was soaking wet, panting, and looked about as unhinged as the door. Jacky had enough time to back up against the counter as Harvey lunged for her. “You have to get out,” she choked through gritted teeth.

Not even an hour ago she would have killed someone herself to get him to so much as accidentally brush a finger against her. Now he had a whole arm around her shoulders as he pushed her into a chair. “How in deep are you, Jacky?”

“Harvey, get out, go home, I’ve got this under control,” she waved his hand away as he reached out to assess her injuries.

Someone was probably still watching the shop. The lights were all one, the blinds open. Anyone could see right in.

“Falcone’s got most of the businesses in Gotham paying protection, you don’t think I know that? Why didn’t you tell me he’d gotten a hold of this place? Jacky, I can help—”

“Help me by going home and telling Gilda I have to cancel our plans tomorrow,” Jacky grunted. She wasn’t going to be making any outings anytime soon. And she still had to come up with a story before Miri got back from the movies with her friends.

Harvey fumbled for the cell in his pocket. “What are you doing?” Jacky groaned as he put in a call. “I’m not going to a hospital if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Hey Jim,” Harvey said, ignoring her, “Yeah I know it’s late, but I need a squad down on 9th and—”

Jacky surged out the chair, ribs screaming as she knocked the phone out of Harvey’s hands. “Falcone gets even a fucking whiff of cops around my place and you’ll have killed me sure as the gun he gets to off me.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Jacky,” Harvey retrieved the fallen phone, the call having already been ended, thank God. “I’m going to get them off these streets. Falcone, Maroni, I’m taking them all down.”

“Yeah, but not tonight,” Jacky sat back in the chair. She’d heard the speech before, but never with this much bite. She doubted this much anger would play well with voters.

“This is our city and we’re gonna show them exactly what happens when they go after what’s ours.”

Jacky didn’t think the knock she took to her head was that bad, but that did not sound like Harvey’s voice. It was a guttural growl, a nasty little threat that was league’s away from the man who had been teasing her about going back to college. He shook his head, a hand going up to his brow as if he was shocked by what he had admitted.

“Go home, Harvey.”

Those blue eyes were looking to trap her again, make her say things she barely cared to admit to herself. She’d never seen them look that helpless. Harvey had a plan for everything, had to help everyone, always ready with the magical solution making life seem easy. And in a perfect world if she was just a down on her luck working class gal who had made the wrong deal with the wrong guy she’d leap at the chance to have a man like him solve all her problems. But the solution here was that neat little jail cell she knew was coming. Selfishly, she just wanted a few more days where he looked at her like she was someone worth saving.

“I think you should come with me, we’ll call Miri, and you two can stay at Gilda’s and mine’s until—”

“You know what I think?” Her ribs hurt too much to start crying. “I think...maybe it’s better if you don’t come by the shop for a few days.”

“You can’t let that man dictate your life, Jacky,” Harvey took a step towards her as Jacky flinched back in the chair. If he touched her now she’d crack, fall apart like a house of cards and ruin everything.

“It’s not for my life that I’m asking.”

She let that hang between them as Harvey slowly nodded, turning to leave. “I’ll...I’ll, ah, get the door fixed for you.”

Jacky laughed so hard her chest heaved and tears fell down her cheeks. “Harvey?” His face was blurry in her washed out vision. “Just so you know...I really wanted it to be heads.”

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman In Velvet pt 14

Oof, second to last chapter, boys. We all knew this was coming. A shoutout to @princessgeekface for being my editor through this process. You are wonderful 💕💕💕

PARING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNING: Violence

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist (I love you all so so much 💕💕):

@jaylovesbats @memory-mortis @gloomyladyy @mijachula @princessgeekface @radio-hoo-ha @lolacolaempath

"I'm not sure my wife would like that. Maybe my next wife." Murray's voice boomed on the stage.

Roaring of laughter came from the audience.

"You should see our next guest coming up. I'm pretty sure this guy could use a doctor." Murray commented.

"Oh? Does he have sexual problems?" Dr. Sally asked.

"I think he's got a lot of problems. Let's show that clip one last time." Murray said.

Arthur's clip played.

The audience ate it up, listening to Arthur's laughter in the clip.

Sandy rolled her eyes, looking over at Arthur, who was staring intently at the curtains.

Sandy stood back from the curtains, carefully watching Arthur's movements. The tech guys next to Arthur looked uncomfortable, and tried shuffling away.

"You might've seen that clip of our next guest. Now, before he comes out, I just wanted to say that we're all heartbroken about what's going on in the city tonight, but this is how he wanted to come out. I honestly believe we could all use a good laugh. So, please welcome Joker."

As the jazz band started, the curtains fell back, revealing Arthur. Arthur came onstage, dancing and twirling around.

Sandy watched from backstage. She looked over by the curtain, seeing Arthur's still lit cigarette. Sandy picked it up, taking a small puff, before distinguishing it.

Arthur shook Murray's hand, then headed over to Dr. Sally, who was just expecting a hug. He cupped Dr. Sally cheeks and kissed her passionately.

Sandy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms backstage.

Whistles and ahhs came from the audience.

Dr. Sally had a very shocked look on her face, as she sat back down.

"That was quite the entrance." Murray commented.

Arthur looked around at the scenery of it all.

Murray looked at Arthur, raising a comedic eyebrow. "You ok?"

"Yeah, this is exactly how I imagined it." Arthur replied.

"Well, that makes one of us." Murray joked.

Laughter and applause came from the audience.

Sandy continued watching from a small television backstage.

"So, could you tell us about this look? You said when we spoke earlier that this wasn't a political statement." Murray said, pointing out his makeup.

"That's right, Murray. I'm not political. I'm just trying to make people laugh." Arthur looked over to the audience, not one of them chuckling.

Sandy cracked a smile backstage.

"And how's that going for you?" Murray commented, again.

The audience once again roared with laughter.

Sandy's cracked smile turned into an angry frown.

Arthur mocked the audience's laughter with his own demented cackle.

"Tell us about your lady friend backstage. She's also dressed as apart of your act. Do you two got a thing going on?" Murray asked.

Sandy paused. Her eyebrows furrowed at the TV. She crossed her arms

Arthur smirked. "It's a little more than 'a thing'. She's my sweetheart. My dear, Sandy."

Awws and oohs came from the audience.

Murray laughed. "Ha. I've heard that one before."

The audience howled with laughter.

Sandy glared hard at the television. She wasn't laughing one bit. All of Murray's jokes were stale and just blatantly mean to Arthur.

"So you tell us you're a comedian. Got any new material? Wanna tell us a joke?" Murray asked, not sounding too pleasant.

The audience applauded.

"Yeah? Okay." Arthur took out his joke book.

"He's gotta book full of jokes." Murray commented.

Arthur flipped a few pages into his notebook.

Arthur paused for a second.

"Take your time. You got all night." Murray laughed.

"Okay, okay. Here's one, knock knock." Arthur said.

"And you had to look that up." Murray commented.

The audience laughed.

Sandy couldn't take the stress. She bit her thumb. She wanted to bash Murray's skull in, see if he was still joking about that.

"I wanna get it right." Arthur's voice was somber.

Sandy couldn't look. She turned her head away from the television.

"Knock, knock." Arthur repeated.

"Who's there?" Murray replied.

"It's the police, ma'am. Your son's been hit by a drunk driver. He's dead." Arthur chuckled.

A loud groan came from the audience.

Sandy laughed at Arthur's edgy joke. Two of the tech guys stared strangely at her. She smiled, watching the television.

"No, no, no. We do not joke about that." Dr. Sally scolded.

"Yeah, that's not funny, Arthur." Murray said.

Arthur chuckled, looking down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a rough few weeks. Ever since I..."

Arthur trailed off. His eyes wandered over the audience.

"Ever since I killed those three wallstreet guys." Arthur said, quietly.

Murray looked around at the audience. "Okay, I'm waiting for the the punchline."

"There is no punchline. It's not a joke." Arthur's voice was monotonous. His eyes swelled up with sadness.

A loud gasp washed over the audience.

Sandy closed her eyes, taking a deep sigh. She couldn't help, but feel remorse in this moment. Remorse for Arthur. The tech guys stared at the TV in shock.

Murray gave Arthur a disgusted glare. "You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?"

"Mmhmm." Arthur mumbled.

Murray raised his eyebrow. "And why should we believe you?"

Arthur smirked, shrugging. "Got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Arthur paused for a moment, before chuckling. "My life is nothing but a comedy."

Loud booes came from the audience.

Sandy smirked.

Murray shook his head. "So let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?"

Arthur smacked his lips. "I do, and I'm tired of pretending it's not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much. You decide what's right or wrong. The same way you what's funny or not."

More booes and groans came from the audience.

Murray stuttered. "I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement, to become a symbol."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, MurRay. Do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy."

Murray leaned back in his chair. "So, that's it you're crazy? That's your defense for killing three young men."

Arthur smirked, widely. "No. They couldn't carry a tomb to save their lives."

Sandy laughed loudly from backstage. The two tech guys were glued to the screen, cautious of the lady in front of them.

Arthur smiled, hearing Sandy's laughter from backstage.

More booes and groans followed the audience.

Arthur dramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh, why are people so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you'd walk all over me. I PASS you every day, and you DON'T notice me. Oh, but these guys, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV."

Sandy could hear the pain and tension in his voice. Arthur was at his breaking point. Seeing him like this broke Sandy's heart. A black tear ran down her face. She cracked a smile, holding it all together.

Murray continued pushing his questions. "So, you've got a problem with Thomas Wayne?"

Arthur nodded his head, vigorously. "Yes, I do."

Arthur turned his head towards Murray.

"Have you seen what it's like out there, MurRay? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody's civil ANYMORE! Nobody THINKS what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think about what it's like to be someone like me. To be somebody, but themselves. They DON'T. They think we'll just sit there and take it like GOOD LITTLE BOYS and we won't WEREWOLF and go WILD."

Sandy's eyes widened, as she covered her mouth to silent her laughing sobs. She never seen this much pain coming from just one man. The techs seemed to get invested with Arthur's big speech.

Murray his head. "Are you finished? There's so much self pity, Arthur. It's almost like you're making excuses for killing those three men. What about your sweetheart, huh, Sandy? She's not awful, right? Not everyone, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful."

Arthur glared at Murray. "You're awful, Murray."

"Me? I'm awful? How am I awful?" Murray said, defensively.

Arthur's green ocean eyes glared menacingly at Murray. "Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You're just like the rest of them."

Murray scoffed. "You don't know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. Two officers are in critical condition because of what you did."

Arthur started laughing with a gentle tear rolling down his face.

"And you're laughing. You're laughing. Someone was killed today because of what you did."

Arthur kept nodding and smiling. "I know. How about another joke, MurRay."

Murray shook his head. "No, I think we've had enough of your jokes."

"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a SOCIETY that ABANDONS him and treats him like TRASH? I'll tell you what you get. YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE."

Arthur pulled out the gun, shooting Murray in the head.

The audience ran screaming in terror.

Arthur laughed to himself. Getting up, he shot Murray a second time in the chest

Sandy and the techs witnessed the horror firsthand. Sandy ran out onto the stage.

"Arthur." Sandy screamed.

Arthur walked up to the camera.

"Goodnight, and always remember. That's life."

Arthur was promptly tackled by security.

[centuryofdean]

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 5

Author Disclaimer:: Once again The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue--also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line. 

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+ At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.

Warnings:: Language and Violence

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

The cold air hit the skin of my face, causing me to shiver and burrow deeper into the warm I was encased in. A tickle started in my face forcing me to move my hand and touch whatever was making it happen. The sound of crunching leaves was loud in my ear. Leaves? What the hell… the last thing I remembered was being on a beach, with sand.

It was lightning.

I sat up as quick as I could, throwing a bunch of things on top of me off and onto the ground all around. It was an assortment of branches, leaves, and blankets of wool. It was almost light outside, but still dark enough that I could see the sun rising in the distance under the hill and the moon on the other side setting. In front of me was a burnt out fire pit. Did I crawl home and build a fire and fall asleep after the beach? Why don't I remember actually doing it?

At least I didn't dream of Kili.

The thought brought pain to my heart, but I pushed it aside as I stood and stretched. This is a start of a new Laurel. No more imagining make believe and trying to escape life through fantasies of a handsome dwarf.

I looked out into the sky, gasping by the millions of stars and crescent moon that were present. There were different hues of blues and purples in between the endless amount of bright lights above me. They were not very saturated due to the rising sun. The moon even looked larger than I have ever seen it, almost twice as large.

This was not my sky.

Around me there were some leather satchels and blankets, even a large wooden sled.

Where the hell was I?

A quick check of my person told me I was still in the same clothes I left the house in, and that none of them have been removed. Running my fingers through my hair, they got caught in a knot. Fingers pulling and plucking, I found it was not a knot at all, but a small three strand braid on the bottom layer near my neck. At the end it was tied off with a piece of leather strand.

In the distance I could hear a commotion. It sounded like arguing. Looking off towards the direction it came from there was a large fire. Is it possible I was with someone? Did they move to another fire? With caution I tip-toed into the woods to investigate. The closer I got to the fire, the more my eyes grew.

Before me were three large…monsters. They were sickly gray and bulky as boulders, as tall as a four story building and as wide as a few sheds. One was sitting on the ground poking at the dirt, while another was leaned over the fire. The last was standing and watching something on the other side of the flames.

They were people in…potato sacks? I got as close as I could to the tree line on my stomach, watching intently. When the one in front of the fire moved, I could see even more people tied up and being rotated like rotary chicken on a spit above the licking orange streams. These monsters were going to eat those people!

"William, how many dwarvies do we want ta start cooking," one of the monsters asked almost as if he were excited.

"I don't know," the one who was tending to the fire muttered, "but do we want to skin them, chop them up, or boil 'em alive?"

I had to do something.

There were horses tied off to the side by the trees on my right. Next to the horses were a pile of what looked like swords and axes. Maybe I could grab a sword and try to cut some of the people in sacks out. I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out my pocket knife. It was a nice little knife, but it was no use at cutting rope or cloth quickly. If I was going to succeed at this, I needed to be quiet and blend in.

My jeans were very baggy and my boots large and clunky.

Without much noise I toed off my boots and took my knife to my jeans, cutting the pants off at the thigh. Should have worn my boot cut jeans today instead of the damn hippy ones.

I crawled to the pile of weapons and looked around at what I could find. On the very top was a long recurve bow, very recurved. It looked as if it came straight from the tree on how the wood was cut on the edges, but everything else was clean and smoothed. The handle of it was another wooden notch with geometric designs and other wood work. It was gorgeous. To the left on the bottom of the pile was a quiver of arrows.

Excellent.

Keeping my eyes trained on the monsters, I grabbed the bow and the arrows. I slung the beauty over my shoulders and handled the arrows as I crawled backwards into the nearby bushes once more. When I was far enough that I could rise and they wouldn't notice me, I paced around the tree line looking for a good tree to shoot from. I quickly shed my baggy camouflage sweater and started to climb.

My bare feet were chilled as the tough soles touched the harsh bark of the oak tree. It took me a while to climb up the giant, but I found the perfect branch to shoot from. It faced the campsite and was wide enough that I could stand properly.

As I studied the monsters I could tell their skin was very hard and leathery, so trying to shoot them anywhere that wasn't soft was a waste.

Through it eye it would be then.

Pulling an arrow from the quiver, I admired it shortly. It was as long as arrows I normally used were, perfect for the bow it came with. The feathers on it were odd, and yellowish orange that I had never seen before. The tip of the arrow was a smooth metal that gleamed in the light, but had notches down the side of it. Not exactly for hunting, but also not for target practice. None the less it didn't matter, I was killing something.

Notching the arrow I took a stance and deep breath. I was maybe twenty yards from my target, almost eye level, just slightly below. I pulled the taught string of the bow and took aim. It was much heavier of a weight in pull that I expected for such an elegant bow. I tried to aim quickly before I lost the pull and released the string. I was gripping the bow so tightly it curved into my forearm, catching me and causing me to gasp.

"Ow, something bit me," the monster I took aim for shouted. The arrow hit him just between the eyes, a mere three feet to the left of my original aim of its' right eye.

Notching another arrow I took aim a little farther to the right and released again. The arrow found its target this time, sinking right through the soft tissue and into the monsters' skull, only the notch of the arrow peeking through. Instantly the gray beast fell to the ground on its' belly, twitching softly as it drooled everywhere.

"What just happened," one of the other one's spoke, "did he fall asleep?"

"I dunno," the one called William spoke, "we will wake him up when supper is ready."

Not if I had anything to do about it. Bow still in hand and notched with another arrow, I stomped on the branch, causing it to quake and rattle its' leaves. The other monster that was sitting looked up right at me, eyes squinting to try and find anything that was making the ruckus. I took a deep breath and released as my arrow soared and plunked again into the soft tissue of its eye. This one simply slumped over backwards and didn't move anymore.

The sun finally rose to glare in my eye, but I didn't let it distract me. Each of the people in the sack were saying things all along, but I had to zone out and concentrate. A new loud voice made itself known, saying something I didn't quiet catch, but it allowed for the last monster to look in my direction. Not wasting another moment I took aim with the last arrow and let it fly.

Just as I was releasing the string, the beast groaned and turned to stone.

What the fuck is going on?

The arrow ricocheted off of the stone eye, darting down and into the woods elsewhere. That was a wooden arrow, it should have snapped. I fingered another one in awe, looking at the sleek black wood.

Cheers could be heard from the ground, all the people wiggling about as they were trying to get out of their confinements. Right, I was on a mission to save people. Slinging the beauty of a bow across my shoulders and clipping the quiver to my pant loops, I make quick work of climbing down the tree. At the bottom I shivered and tied my jacket around my waist, I could put it back on after I released those people.

One guy in particular was standing already, hopping towards the pile of weapons.

"Hang on a second, I got you," I called, starting to jog towards him. He stopped dead in his tracks, turning towards me quickly and falling over with a groan. All the other conversations I could hear stopped as I approached him and pulled out my pocket knife. Now that I wasn't in a hurry the knife would do just well. In moments I had him out of the sack, and it took me a little bit longer to get him out of the rope around his hands and feet. All the while he was staring at me in almost awe.

There were more people hanging over a fire, so I didn't have time to get a good look at him. He was just slightly shorter than myself, with a mess of honey brown curls and a short round nose. "This thing will take longer," I pointed to my knife, "go ahead and grab one of those swords over there and get that lot. I'll put out the fire and get them up there."

All the dirt around me was hard with the cold, so I had to stab some of it to release it from the ground's hold. In a matter of five minutes I had the fire out. The men above me sighed in appreciation. "Thank ya lass, it was getting a bit warm over here," one called out. Just when I was trying to figure out how to climb up there to cut them out, a very tall man in a long grey cloak and hat approached us.

"Ah," he took a quick glance at me, "you are awake. Alright dwarves! It is going to be a bit of a fall, prepare yourselves!"

Did he say dwarves?

A long wooden staff he was holding tapped against the spit, some of the ropes appeared to have snapped and one or two of the men fell onto the ground. They were up in a minute waiting for the rest of them to untangle themselves and fall as well. I finally turned and looked at the two monsters I shot, walking up to them and looking into their dead lifeless faces.

Right through the eye into the brain.

Both arrows had in fact sunk in deep enough just for me to get my hand around the notch and try and yank it out. It was as if there was a pencil in a soccer ball their eyes were so huge. The second one was a lot more difficult since I had to climb on top of it and yank from below. When the arrow released, it came out covered cloudy white dripping juices like rubber cement.

"Yuck," I muttered. As I turned around, I had to take a step back, shocked as a dozen or so men were staring at me intently. "Erm, what were those things, and why were they trying to eat all of you?"

One man in particular stepped forward, he was one of the tallest of the lot. His leather coat was lined with fur, covering an odd shirt that had a honeycomb pattern of metal. Long dark brown hair lined with grey in some areas flowed down his back without a part. Just underneath his hairline a braid poked out, tied off with a metal clasp. When he spoke his beard did not flow due to its shortness.

"Those were stone trolls," his voice was deep and lined with authority. I stood a little straighter as he spoke more. "They were trying to eat our ponies, so we came to reclaim them. Trolls will eat anything they can get ahold of. We owe you our gratitude for you aid in our rescue."

"She killed two trolls through the eye," the tallest man in the cloak spoke, "I think that is impressive Thorin."

"I would have got the last one too, but it turned to stone," I trialed off confused. The monster stood just to my left, and was truly made of stone.

Another man started to make his way forward, pushing through the rest.

Just standing feet from me, covered in a leather jacket, he approached me deliberately. In response I took another step backwards, hand pulling out my pocket knife and flicking it open quickly. Dark bushy eyebrows furrowed together as he rose his leather glove covered hand. Something about his dark brown hair that tangled together and pulled halfway up screamed familiarity.

"Laurel."

Instantly my eyes closed and the ghost of fingers trailed through my hair. Soft and full of compassion, his voice was always something that I wanted to hear as I fell asleep and when I woke. It was the same as I always remembered.

"Fuck, I'm dreaming again," I muttered throwing my knife down in frustration.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 4: Bigger Foes Bring Harder Woes

Next Chapter >> Chapter 6: Sanity is the Price of Truth

[scrumdummm-blog]

Reprieve (Vicar Max x Female Outsider)

Reprieve

Pairing: Vicar Max x Female Outsider/Captain/OC/Alex Hawthorne Identity Thief

Summary: Captain Sofia has had a difficult time adjusting to her new life. She seeks out help from the foul-mouthed Vicar from Edgewater.

Warnings: Mentions sexual content, seduction attempts, awkward flirting

Note: Forgive me for I have sinned. This game consumed my whole weekend. I wrote this in three hours. I am completely brain dead.

I’m only about 8 hours in and pretty hazy on the lore. Please forgive any mistakes. I may continue this if I have the time.

During her days on Earth, Sofia didn’t put much snuff into philosophy. Reasons for existence, religion, spirituality, mysticism weren’t really her things. Life existed, existence existed, and that was as far as she could possibly will herself to take it. She had other things to worry about. School and getting in her intern hours at the lab were her main priority to worry about. Next in line was her family. Somewhere near the bottom was her boyfriend. At the very rock bottom was worrying about why all of these worries existed.

No, no, she wasn’t suited with the patience or the fortitude to wonder about those sorts of things. Maybe that’s why she was accepted as a potential founding colonist for Halcyon. Maybe that’s why she was the only colonist to survive reanimating so far. Maybe that’s why she made it out of Edgewater (mostly) unscathed.

She didn’t know, though, and was quite pleased with the notion of never knowing.

However, she found herself in a peculiar situation now. Things weighed on simply Sofia. Attempting to Captain a ship under the identity of a man she accidentally killed, risking her life on a daily basis as she traveled through fucking space to fight and run errands, trying to beat the clock on ensuring her family could come out of cryo without dying. These weighed on her. They didn’t crush her – but she felt them ever-present on her shoulders.

Now, more than ever, Sofia yearns for some understanding. A cosmic reason for all that’s happening around her. An invisible rope to follow through this series of events. An excuse to not feel completely and utterly hopeless.

So she wanders. She wanders around the nooks and crannies of her ship during the night cycle – lost in thought and hopeful for conversation. Most of her crew have adjusted to the day and night cycle very well, including her. Hence her body’s predisposition for not fucking sleeping at night due to stress and their convenient disappearance to do exactly what she can’t do.

The wandering, for as little as it does emotionally, piques her curiosity. There is one human crew member who stays up for nearly as long as she does. She passes by the quarters, doors shut, and no light was peeking out from the inside of all but one of them. The mysterious yet boisterous Vicar she picked up on Edgewater keeps his door slightly ajar, a dull light emanating from the inside.

It happens night cycle after night cycle, and she’s very tempted to peek in. She sees him writing and reading during the day cycle. Could he be so possibly dry and consumed by his personal quest for the unknown that he still does it at night instead of sleeping? Sofia doesn’t know.

She conjures some amusing imagery in her mind one singularly bad night when sleep evaded her. She walks quietly by the lit quarters. Images of the prim and proper Vicar covertly reading awful corporate serials under the night light. The Vicar writing some of the awful corporate serials under night light. The Vicar writing something or another to his mother. The Vicar reading a love letter.

Sofia stops as if lead weights were dropped from her hips and slammed into her feet. Something strange happened, then. For the first time since coming from her long stasis, Sofia felt arousal. It washed over her – a foreign feeling that settled deep in her belly and burned. The hairs on the back of her neck rose considerably, and a chill ran down her spine.

Sofia wasn’t blind. Vicar Max was a good-looking man. Clean and well put-together. Accomplished and wise. Competent and passionate. She wasn’t blind – she saw it all. She was just unable to feel.

She didn’t even need imagery. Simply thinking of the handsome Vicar as a sexual being for a moment unleashed a barrage of feelings she hadn’t had since before she boarded the Hope. Overwhelmed, Sofia took a deep breath and willed herself to leave. Willed herself to turn around and find her quarters. Willed herself to do anything other than what her body was telling her to do.

Sofia was a young woman who took pride in making smart, calculated, reasonable decisions. Taking three steps backward wasn’t smart. Turning to the slightly ajar door wasn’t calculated. Wrapping her knuckles against the cold metal wasn’t fucking reasonable. In those moments after the sounds her knuckles made echoed into the aether made her feel like an animal. She imagined herself feral, out of control, and wild — a slave to her base instincts. The humiliation made her face burn.

There was movement on the other side of the door, and before she could fully register what was happening, she was face to face with the vicar. He looked the same as he did a mere four hours earlier when he was eating dinner in the mess hall. Sofia noticed the sprinkling of grey on his temples. Her heart pounded.

“Captain.” He sounded pleasant, but not surprised. “Do you need anything?”

Sofia bit her tongue and forced a small smile, peeking down at the bronze clasps on his vestments. She cleared her throat and forced herself to look up.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to – to talk for a bit.” The words sounded off. As if she took sound clips of herself a pieced them together awkwardly. The Vicar’s expression quickly turned from mildly amused to warm and welcoming.

“Of course. Please come in.” He moved aside. Sofia tried to will herself to leave to deny the offer. But a heavy weight settled on her as she took a step into his quarters, nary a few inches away from touching him. The Vicar closed the door and maneuvered around her. Sofia noticed woefully that he was particularly mindful not to touch her at all. In a flash Sofia was sitting in the chair across from him at his small table. He spoke quietly, “I did offer to counsel as one of my services. Whatever you wish to speak about, I’m here to listen.”

Sofia felt a pregnant silence fall between them. The room felt like it was slowly closing in on her. She cleared her throat, willing the uneasiness away. “Thank you. I usually wouldn’t do something like this… I – I would never actually do something like this.”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I have… a lot to think about and process during the day, and I can’t seem to stop… stop my brain… I can’t sleep. I would really like to sleep, but I’m not interested in taking anything right now. I still feel like I’m in a fragile state, and I don’t want to risk killing myself because I took too many of Auntie Cleo’s downers, you know?” She ends her quick spiel with a pathetic laugh. He still doesn’t respond – just stares at her warmly. Her heart flutters and her eyes quickly catch his lips before she pulls her gaze away back up to his eyes. They keep eye contact for longer than they need to. Sofia feels her confidence grow slightly.

“What do you do in here at night?” She asks quietly. She realizes quickly how the question sounds, so she backtracks as soon as the last word falls into the room. “I mean – I walk by here at night. That’s what I do to try to clear my mind I walk around the ship, you know? I walk by here, and I see your light on, and your door open just a little.” She uses her fingers to show him an estimate of how ajar his door is. She feels stupid and juvenile after doing it.

He doesn’t seem to mind much. He smiles a little and raises his brows and leans back in the cool way that he usually does things. She squirms in her seat a little and smiles back. “I read, mostly. I must admit, Captain, I’ve been curious about why you walk around her at night. Almost like your on patrol. You do it to clear your mind?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t work very well. Nothing seems to work.” She admits suddenly.

“What is it that plagues your mind?”

She rattles them off one by one – revealing her concern for her family and about her life on Earth before she was placed on the Hope. She mentions feeling lost in time. Confused, upset that the colony is worse than Earth was when she left. She tells him she misses her life before. The safety and easiness of it all. She reveals more to him than she’s revealed to anyone since waking up. She feels naked. She feels shaky. She feels excited.

She doesn’t know how long she talks. He’s supportive, and a comforting presence – asking questions when appropriate and offering short and sweet takes on things that she describes. It’s nice. The weight lifts from her shoulders. But as she speaks she noticed another weight settle heavily in her gut.

She squirms and plays with her hair and taps her fingertips on the table. He unwittingly offers her something very nice to look at. His strong jaw (that she wants to run her tongue up), the tendons in his neck (that she has a strange desire to sink her teeth into), his slightly furrowed brow (does it look like that when he…?). If she were slightly more conspiratorial, she would think of him as sent from hell itself to undo her.

She’s never been so undone before. She chews on her lip after the last words die out in the room. Her face is positively on fire. There is one more thing that eats at her. A gnawing curiosity that’s been in the back of her mind, but set off this sequence of events tonight. She doesn’t need to ask it, a voice of reasons speaks within her. It’s not only unprofessional but weird. Then again, another voice starts (light and manic), sitting and imagining a heated encounter with the man right in front of him was pretty unprofessional and weird.

What’s stopping you now?

The room is silent, but war rages inside of her.

“I’m honored that you’ve shared all of this information with me. I understand that your current situation is… jarring.” He pauses, eyes boring deep into her. “You’ve mentioned walking around the ship to clear your thoughts. It isn’t working – correct?”

“Correct.”

“Have you any other coping mechanisms… besides drugs?”

Sofia stops and thinks. Back on Earth, she did. “I had hobbies and friends on Earth. They weren’t so many coping mechanisms, but they helped… I exercised back then. I can’t really afford to burn any more calories than I do in a day now so exercising is out of the questions. I’ve tried meditating, but the thoughts just don’t stop.” Sofia stopped, trying to recall anything else she’s tried that isn’t booze.

The vicar hums thoughtfully, “is there anything else?”

His words are low and keen. She looks up at him momentarily. She dares not read into it any more than she needs to, but he’s making it hard to think about anything other than him being on top of her…

She thinks briefly about what she will do after he inevitably rejects her. She sees herself hightailing it back to her quarters, unzipping the god-forsaken pants she has on and going to town – her mind set on the  Vicar and this encounter. The thought is enticing and nice.

More than anything else, it makes her remember one of the best ways to help her sleep. Her mind flashes back to her later school days. There was nothing like a good orgasm to wind down before a big test. She remembers a particularly hot day – the setting sun shining in on her as she lay a mess in her bed – a fine sheen of sweat covering her. There was always a little shame behind it – but never enough to stop her from drifting off after. No worries – just bliss.

His voice snaps her out of her reminiscing.

“You look like you have something else on your mind.” He states with an air of purposeful curiosity. He’s playful – teasing – and for a moment, she feels hopeful.

Her eyes find him again, and she lets out a pathetic bark of sarcasm. “You don’t even want to know.”

“I might.” He counters quickly, leaning forward with his elbows on the table – large hands clasped in front of him now. She looks at them quickly before diverting her gaze once more.

Sofia sighs through her nose and steels herself. She can’t believe what she’s doing, but she mimics his actions – so drunk on arousal and hazy from sleep deprivation that she doesn’t even care.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“It’s more of a question.” The tremor in her voice betrays her budding confidence.

He quirks a brow, smirk still present.

She licks her lips and keeps her voice low, eyes never leaving his as the question leaves her lips. “Are men of the cloth allowed to partake in… worldly pleasures?”

His expression doesn’t change – but when he speaks, his voice takes on a new tone. Deeper, quieter, more personal. “No.”

Sofia feels her stomach sink for a moment – but he continues.

“The order I served while in Edgewater forbade it. To be fair, many could leave behind those acts. They are simply not needed. However, some do need it.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at her clasped hands. “The order said that it clouds the mind – destroys your altruism and willingness to follow the Plan. Interestingly enough, my own collection of anecdotal evidence has proven the opposite to be true.”

Sofia rubs her thighs together, the discussion leaving her body in disarray. Vicar Max reaches forward and gently trails a single finger across the back of her hand. He traces the small tendons in her hand, following down each finger as he speaks. Sofia lets out a shaky breath. A touch has never made her feel like this before.

“People who appreciate that release tend to go mad when they’re deprived of it. That’s when the altruism is destroyed. That’s when the Plan is lost.”

He pauses for a second and brings his eyes back to hers. The moment is thick and intense. He tests the waters, and wordlessly brings one of her hands into his. He is gentle, cautious as if she’s a wild animal that might take off. He turns her hand over in his larger ones and continues his ministrations. A thick, callused finger traces the inside of her palm and down her fingers to her fingertips. It climbs up her palm, and circles in the soft, sensitive skin of her wrist. She swallows thickly, the arousal pooling in between her leg as dizzying as she’s ever experienced it.

“The spirit is broken when something as natural as breathing air, drinking water, and consuming food are taken and kept away. We’re stripped down to our base instincts when those are taken. We become distressed at best and mad at worst.”

“Look at you right now,” his voice is just above a whisper. He squints and tilts his head as if examining her. Sofia blinks and swallows thickly again. “touch-starved and desperate. You’ve been wandering around this ship in a fog. This is what it does to you, Sofia.”

There’s a moment of silence. It’s comfortable. Sofia is bewildered, overwhelmed, nearly shaking. She licks her lips and takes a deep breath. She feels the heat build to a fever pitch.

“I digress. The order forbade such actions.” He recounts, bringing her hand up close to his face. “But I’m no longer under the command of the order, am I?” With that, he closes his eyes and plants a gentle kiss in Sofia’s palm.

She lets out a harsh breath through her nose. He opens his eyes and smiles against her skin.

“Are you willing to help me?” She sighs, blinking a few times to clear her head.

“Only if you’re certain that you want my help.” He keeps eye contact as he places another kiss on the inside of her wrist.

Sofia feels a rush of certainty overtake her. Her voice doesn’t tremble as she watches him kiss her wrist again. “I don’t think I’ve been more certain of anything in my life.”

[shaniahnoel]

Ellement of Surprise; Loki x OC

The too long fan fiction that no one asked for. Now back to my current WIP that will never see the tumblr light of day 😂

No warnings, no word count. Please enjoy so I can get back to my regularly scheduled writing.

———————

“Loki.” The voice is quiet amidst all the noise and chaos.

The man in question turns to its source and finds a young woman staring at him with eyebrows raised. Her long blond hair falls limply about her face, covered in the soot of the fallen buildings. She moves towards him slowly and keeps her eyes on him until she’s reached the man on the floor. Thor, God of Thunder, is panting at her feet and she kneels to press cloth to the wound in his gut. Her gaze is reproachful as she looks back to Loki. He sheaths his dagger in defiance and curls a lip in distaste. The way is clear to the throne and he turns to the portal in haste.

His cloak billows behind him and he’s nearly reached the portal when he hears the weapon discharge. Loki turns, ready to defend but finds there is no need. On the floor beneath him she lays, clutching at the hole in her chest. A weapon charges again and Loki whirls, throwing the dagger through the throat of the one who sought to harm him. He scans the room. Thor stirs on the floor, his vigor returning but she grows more still. The color has nearly left her when he takes her into his arms and exits through the portal.

The tunnel is perpetually damp. A salty tang fills his lungs as he steps through the portal. He moves carefully to the opening in the cliff side, mindful of every loose rock. It is nearly impossible to remove his gaze from the woman in his arms. Her breath is slight and her heartbeat faint but still they are there as markers of her life and so he presses on with her. The waters of Asgard are calm as he gazes out over the sea. There is little movement on the bridges and he closes his eyes to focus. Heimdalt must not see.

It is four days later when she awakens and Loki holds his breath. She sits up slowly, painfully, grasping instinctively at her chest. Her hands shake as she pulls off the top and to his credit Loki looks away. He listens to her tears as she examines the wound and rolls his eyes. Midgardians are so fragile, he thinks to himself. He risks a glance and his eyes go wide. She’s clothed and staring straight into his eyes. No, through his eyes. Loki steps to the side but her gaze doesn’t follow. He slips carefully through the cracked door and pauses a few minutes before entering the room.

Her gaze shoots towards him and this time he knows she see him. A slight smile adorns her face. “Where am I?”

“Asgard,” he answers with a voice of disdain. A faint flush creeps into her cheeks and he pauses to consider its meaning. “Why did you step in front of me?”

The question is abrupt but his voice is controlled. He’d planned to wait for this interrogation. Need for an answer gnawed within him as guilt pulled at his gut. He averted his eyes from the bandages peeking out from her shirt.

“I... I didn’t want you to die.” She shrugs and the color dulls in her cheeks. Her brow furrows and then clears. “Did Thor bring me here?”

Loki’s teeth grind together. Of course her thoughts are of Thor, he thinks. Did she save him for his brother’s favor?

“No,” he responds in a clipped tone. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Is it not possible for the God of Mischief to have compassion?” He didn’t mean it. His only desire is to question her and to free himself from the burden of life debt. He’s prepared for the list of his misdeeds but instead she smiles. He can see that it reaches her bright eyes as she brushes the hair from her face.

“Of course it is. I’m sorry I—Thank you.” Her words are earnest and he studies the way she leans towards him and how her gaze never wavers. She seems genuine and he bristles within. Without intending another word he turns to leaves the chambers but stops, compelled.

“How are you healing?”

She moves with small, tentative motions. There are several movements which cause her to wince and he makes a mental note to speak with her attendants.

“It feels okay,” she says quietly and for the first time Loki notes the deception in her voice.

“Truly?”

Her mouth opens and the color returns to her cheeks. “It hurts,” she admits quietly. “But I’ll be okay.”

Midgardians have always been terrible at deception but this one, this one is extreme. One probe of verification and she crumbles. Part of him wants to disdain her for that alone. Part of him is still curious.

“I will be okay, right,” she asks, her voice anxious. Loki realizes some emotion must have crossed his face because now she is unsure.

“A scar should be all the remains,” he assures her.

“When can I go home?”

“Home?”

“Back to earth,” she clarifies and Loki’s brow furrows. No mention of reward, no statement of debt.

“You wish to go home?”

“Y-yes, as soon as I am well.”

————

It is a week before Loki returns to her chambers. Perhaps fear of his failure to return will pressure her to reveal the price. When he arrives at her chambers, the door is a ajar. She is nowhere to be found and his breath hitches. Most of the people do not know a Midgardian is among them and so he fears where she’s gone.

He races through the halls, glancing into rooms and straining his senses. At last he finds her, standing at the end of a corridor and staring up at the art with a look of awestruck wonder. She jumps when he appears at her side but to his surprise she does not cry out. Instead she looks abashed, like a petulant child denied a treat. Footsteps sound down the hallway and Loki recognizes the metal of the guards.

“Trust me,” he whispers, placing a finger to his lips as a green light flashes and suddenly a man in regal dress stands where he once was. A mixture of awe and confusion spreads across her face and she turns to the source of the noise. The guards stand at attention when their gaze falls to the man and each steps back, deferring to the guard at center.

“Commander and ...,” he waits, inclining his head to the woman at his side. Loki realizes a pertinent question had been left unasked.

“Elle,” she supplies for him with a warm smile on her face. “Its a pleasure to meet you.” She greets each one in turn and Loki’s eyes narrow at the wince in her eyes.

“Forgive us the intrusion, but we’ve received word that Loki is alive and up to his old habits. Thor’s been injured but is recovering.”

Loki freezes. From the outside, the Commander is stricken with concern for his son and the chaos the God of Mischief might incur. On the inside, Loki weighs his options as Elle will surely—

“He’s aware.” Elle inclined her head towards Loki, still in his new form. “You don’t think we midgardians come just for a casual chat, do you?”

They exchange a look and murmur their assent. Loki bids them on and steers her more forcefully than he intends around the corner. A flare of green and it’s his blue eyes piercing her once more.

“You didn’t divulge my charade?”

“You said to trust you,” she answered with a shrug. Loki wants to scream with the simplicity of the answer.

“People don’t tend to do that.”

Her fingers gently, carefully, touch the exposed skin of his forearm. “Sorry.”

Before he can ask, she turns and walks down the corridor. It’s a few beats before he moves to catch up with her. “You’re sorry?”

“If I hadn’t walked out of my room, there wouldn’t have been any of that. I’ve just grown stir crazy.”

Loki can’t believe his ears. Guilt wasn’t an emotion he felt often, but waves crashed upon him. The situation was singlehandedly his own doing and yet here she stood apologizing for seeking to stretch her legs. The Midgardian who could not lie allowed others to be misled.. for him. A light feeling bubbled in his chest, reminding him of discussions with Frigga. He grabs her arm and then hesitates, the green aura of his magic dancing around them as he steps back.

“Join me,” he says, extending a hand. The awkward blur between command and invitation brings a smirk to Elle’s lips but she takes his hand willingly and he leads her through the castle. The turns are never ending, they go up staircases and through hidden corridors, and once or twice she finds herself hastily thrust into an alcove as guards pass but finally they arrive at his destination.

Elle gasps and walks to the edge of the balcony as it overlooks Asgard. It is shielded from view on most sides and so Loki steps with her, pointing out the various buildings of the world he lives in. When she turns to him, the awestruck wonder on her face strikes him to his core. Suspicions flutter at the edge of his mind, overshadowed by the radiance of her joy and an answering smile twitches at his lips.

Pieces of the rail are eroded away and Elle steps carefully around broken marble. She crouches low and slides on her bottom to the edge, allowing her legs to dangle.

“Join me,” she asks with a raised eyebrow and Loki bristles slightly at the mockery but concedes to her playful demeanor. As he moves beside her he notes that her skin has paled within the last hour.

“How’re you feeling?”

“A bit dizzy,” she admits. “I’m sure it’s just a symptom of exertion. C-could you..”

“Could I,” Loki repeats, an icy feeling seeping into his chest as he prepares for the request she’ll give him. Now more than ever she must assume he has a debt to repay.

“I don’t want to go back to my room quite yet, but I am feeling a bit light-headed. I-I didn’t know if there was anything you could do about that, but I imagine you have better things to do than tend to me..”

Loki clears his throat. “I’m not a healer. What do you know of me, Midgardian?”

Elle purses her lips and her brow draws together as she considers the venom in his words. “You’re Loki, God of Mischief. Occasional enemy and occasional friend of the avengers.. And for some reason determined to argue with me—I’ll make my way back to my room now.”

She stands with surprising speed and he clenches his fist against the urge to catch her as she sways. His teeth grind together as she continues forward but he resolves to watch her walk away.

An hour passed before he brings himself to move from the spot. Every sight before him transforms into her and he must admit she’s beautiful. However it is not her beauty that compels him but her demeanor—the kindness and respect in her eyes is like nothing he’s experienced since Frigga.

When he enters the castle he freezes immediately. Elle is tucked into the nearest alcove, her arms wrapped around her torso as it rises and falls gently. The worries of her face have softened as she sleeps and Loki contemplates what to do. She stirs as his footsteps approach and he stills once more.

“This isn’t your room,” he notes drily. His ire fades as she giggles nervously and a flush creeps into her cheeks.

“I fell and was too weak to stand,” she admits. “I decided to rest and try again later.”

“Why not fetch me?”

“You can’t have it both ways, you know. Either you want people to rely on you or you don’t. I felt you made it clear that I was to ask nothing of you.”

“So you do want something then?”

“I want to go home.”

“Loki has better things to do, eh,” Elle comments to the woman, Yara, who’s been her attendant in Asgard. All wounds have healed and only the faintest hint of scar remains.

“He’s not one for sentiment.”

“Do I have the time to find him,” she asks, turning to Heimdalt who, for a moment, looks through her.

“The bifrost is available when needed. Loki is in the vault.”

Yara appears apprehensive, but concedes to take Elle back to the castle. They walk the corridors in silence until Yara draws back before a set of ornate doors. Elle steels herself for the rebuff, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin before marching through the doors.

His back is to her but he stiffens as she approaches. Growing meek, she stops a few feet from him and clears her throat. When he doesn’t turn she proceeds.

“I’m ready to leave.”

“Then go.”

“I wanted to say goodbye, and to thank you.”

Loki whirls then and she notices the pale blue of his skin, the vibrant red of his eyes. A wooden casket is in his hands and she studies it curiously.

“Midgardians and their pleasantries,” he spits at her but Elle is undeterred. She steps forward carefully, stopping within arms reach. His eyes tighten as she touches the skin of his cheek and she resists the urge to pull away from the frigid surface. Instead she rises on her toes and touches her lips gently to the opposing cheek.

“Thank you, Loki,” she murmurs, blue eyes meeting red. The casket drops from his hand back to the pedestal he plucked it from and his complexion changes to its usual pallor. Elle smiles as her thumb caresses his cheek and then she turns to leave. Once more he wills himself not to follow her, but this time he’s unsuccessful.

“Elle,” he whispers, a breath in the wind but she stops and turns expectantly. Loki hesitates, unsure of what spell he’s fallen under. This woman, this Midgardian woman, has been in his company for no more than a week and yet there’s an emptiness at the thought of her leaving. How starved for companionship has he become?

“What is it,” she prompts when he fails to continue and he clears his throat.

“Did you know,” he asked, gesturing to the cask behind him. Her brow furrows. “Did you know that my true name is Loki Laufeyson, heir to Jotunheim? That I am a frost giant.”

The more he speaks the greater her confusion but he cannot help but ask. The answer matters more than he can form into words. She shifts self consciously.

“I suppose that explains the cold,” she chuckles. “I didn’t know. Does it matter?”

“T-to some.”

“To you?”

Loki’s breath catches in his throat. He thinks of Frigga, of some of his last words to her. He considers Odin. He remembers the comments he’s endured with avengers and asgardians alike.

“And yet not to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Everyone sees the God of Mischief, the frost giant... but not you... why? It’s troubled me all the time you’ve been here. You’ve only ever seen.. me.”

The emotion is tight in his throat. He hasn’t meant to be so revealing but to keep her any longer would be to incur the interest of Thor and the others. He couldn’t bear himself to hold her any longer and thus he must free it all at once. Elle smiles.

“No one’s perfect... and everyone needs kindness. I try to make everyone smile,” she shrugs and Loki aches at the generality.

“I see,” he hedges careful and Elle steps forward. Barley an inch is between them as she looks up into his eyes.

“I will say... your smile has become much more endearing to me.”

With that she raises on her toes again, holding his head in her hands. Nervously her lips press against his before she slides backwards, but this time his hands move with her. He wraps his arms around her waist, hindering her escape.

“Stay,” Loki whispers as his forehead touches hers. The uncertainty is clear in her eyes and his gaze becomes more earnest. “I.. I haven’t felt this in so long and you.. you feel something too, yes? Please stay.”

At a loss for words, Elle rises up again and presses her lips to his. “Okay.”

[bambyeol]

This Band (p.1)

B.A.M SEQUEL

pairing/s: band! park jihoon x oc ; band! bae jinyoung x oc ; doctor! hwang minhyun x oc 

character/s: park jihoon, park woojin, bae jinyoung, ong seongwoo, kim jaehwan, ha sungwoon, lai guanlin, kang daniel, yoon jisung, hwang minhyun

genre: angst, fluff, music (band) 

summary: never date your band mate. 

warning : a sequel so I’d appreciate it if you’ll read B.A.M first. though you can always live dangerously and read this immediately. 

This Band (p.2) This Band (p.3) This Band (p.4) This Band (p.5) This Band (p.6)  This Band (p.7) This Band (p.8) This Band (p.9)  This Band (p.10)  This Band (p.11)   This Band (p.12)  This Band (p.13) This Band (p.14) This Band (p15) This Band (final)

B.A.M p1 // B.A.M p2 // B.A.M p3 // B.A.M final 

wanna one masterlist

song inspiration : Saved by Khalid 

“But I'll keep your number saved 'Cause I hope one day you'll get the sense to call me “ 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard flight 3B7 en route to Seoul, Korea. Kindly fasten your seatbelt and secure all baggage underneath….” the standard announcement played out. She rested onto her seat and stared at the distant city lights as the plane took off.

Five years.

That was how long she was gone, and that period of time was more than enough for many things to change - for herself and for others.

“Ah. We’re finally going home.” Seulla spoke up while wrapping a blanket around her chest, reclining her seat in childlike amusement.   

“Oh, right. Jinyoungie told me that since you’re coming back they’re thinking whether you guys should have a reunion. You know, like the old days in the band?” she relayed her boyfriend’s message.

“Seulla. You know to yourself that it will not be anything like the old days.” Riseul replied, a scowl forming on her face. Before Seulla could even reply, she closed her eyes, an action that meant that the topic was over.

A reunion was the last thing she’ll ever want between them.

In the busy city of Seoul, tens of screens were plastered on buildings, displaying a man around his 20’s shining brightly onstage. A smile so captivating it stopped anyone from their tracks. His brown hair slicked back, sweat dripping down his face. He winked and left a random passerby squealing on the sidewalk.

But she couldn’t care less as she plugged the earphones to her phone and maxed the volume as she walked away from the lined screens that broadcasted the same performance.

It was a successful comeback with him as the center, and it frustrated her how he had the ability to haunt her without even meaning to do so.

The years may have murked the memories, but the feelings remained for her, and it still leaves a bitter aftertaste on her mouth whenever she was reminded.

It was too good to be true anyways. Their relationship that is. Everything seemed like a fairytale except they didn’t live happily ever after. Instead, her 12 midnight struck before she even realized it.

Often, she would wonder if she just fabricated their whole relationship. Time was blurring it all away too, but at times like these when she hears his voice sing another song and catch a glimpse of him on the television, she is reminded that it did happen.

Bae Riseul dated Park Jihoon, her ex-bandmate and currently one of the most popular idols in the industry.

But really, she didn’t have any energy left to waste on the old times. Not now nor ever. Besides, they lived on two different worlds. He was too popular for her own good. An idol and a doctor? It was destined for failure. They’ll never be able to meet given how grueling their jobs were.

You’re still considering it.

A small voice whispered on her head.

Her face sourly crumpled when she caught herself immersed in thoughts of him yet again.  It was long over. Reminiscing wouldn’t change a thing.

It was 5 years ago.

No use in crying over spilled milk.

So she returned to her apartment, brewed herself hot tea, changed to the most comfortable set of pajamas she had, played the most soothing music on her phone, unplugged the tv (just in case she forgot that Jihoon would be in any channel), and closed her eyes.

Tomorrow, she’d spend her day-off and have her long-awaited reunion with B.A.M.  

Park Jihoon wore a black beanie, a black face mask that engulfed over three-quarters of his face. He made sure to wear the largest sweater in his wardrobe to hide his built. He chose to dress up nice and plain for once to deviate from his fashion disaster self.

It’s been over 2 years since he’s last seen them, his former band. Frankly, he missed them dearly. Nostalgia always hit him, and he’d be immediately reminded of their high school days. Jinyoung playing the keyboard, Woojin playing the bass, Seongwoo with the drums, and Jaehwan with his singing.

He missed the run-down Underground, and all the events that happened within its walls.

He misses her the most.

He texted his manager upon his arrival and began scrolling through hundreds of notifications. Jihoon didn’t notice his path until he collided with someone, causing his phone to bounce off.

“Ah, I’m sorry..” He instinctively bent down and stretched his hand towards the direction of his phone, but before he managed to, a woman of significantly smaller built picked up his phone. She held it briefly to check whether there were any cracks before handing it to him with a small smile.

“No worries. Your phone’s fine, by the way,” her tone polite, and her voice warm. She craned her neck to meet his eyes.

And it was as if the heavens have heard his musings that she was right there and then.

Five years have passed.

Many things changed like how her hair was longer, or how she stood with certainty and maturity.

Yet, some things remain.

He is still captivated by her.

But before he could even call out for her name over something that she dropped, she turned around to walk towards the long queue of people lined up near the entrance of the stadium.

She was still the first to turn her back.

But this time around, he will chase after her.

After all, Park Jihoon had a lot to explain to Bae Riseul even if he didn’t know where to start.

For now, it started with a lost ticket.

The ticket was missing. Riseul realized when she took out all the contents of her bag for the 10th time. She flapped open her wallet, removed the case of her phone, felt her pockets, and asked around, but no one knew.

Worse, the tickets long sold out.

She groaned in annoyance as the place was beginning to be packed with more people, and the sky slowly dimmed.

How could she have been so stupid to drop the ticket?

"Excuse me!" someone rushed after her and grabbed her arm. She turned around and saw a towering man. He looked very shady with his face mask and black beanie. She must have forgotten to mask her glare that the man retreated immediately and raised his hands defensively.

“I think this is yours..” he held what looked like a ticket, and her eyes widened. Her hands covered her gaping mouth and she bowed several times, and jumped in glee though modestly.  

“I can’t believe this. I thought I’d never find it!” she shouted amongst the horde of people walking and chattering. “Ah. Thank you so much. You saved me.”

“No worries. You dropped it when you picked up my phone after all.”  He replied.

“Can I line up with you instead? The line’s pretty long already and it would be hard to get a nice view in the back..” He requested, and she laughed at his honesty.  

“Sure. After all, you ran after me and I even mistook you. Apology accepted?” she asked and offered a handshake.

His eyes crinkled and Riseul assumed that it was him smiling, “Apology accepted.”

He reminded her of someone.

It felt strange to watch the band as a member of the audience. New songs and new faces. They all moved forward, and reached for greater heights. One that they never dared to imagine before.

What started as a band of the Underground was now the most famous band in Korea. And now, they were beginning to take the international stage by storm.

“Bul ane maeum (B.A.M)! Bul ane maeum! Go with a B.A.M!” everybody chanted.

The first time she came across them was when she was 19 years old, and she grew with them for 2 years as Jaehwan’s partner vocalist.

In those two years, she noticed a lot about the habits of each member that they still haven’t let go of.

Seongwoo still likes to flaunt his angular jaw by rotating his head to the side and twirl his drumsticks before proceeding to his solos.

Jinyoung still bobs his head to the beat and plays arpeggios whenever the cameraman focuses on him.

Woojin still thinks it’s cool to do a guitar jump, and Jaehwan still exaggerates his soulful look by closing his eyes and pairs it with slight head shake as he clutches to the mic whenever he sings mellow songs.

The speakers blasted their performance throughout the concert hall and the large screens projected the band for the people in the back. Everyone raved by swaying their light stick to the beat of the song.

Woojin noticed her near the front of the stage, and nodded to her, pleased with her attendance.

“Hey. Jinyoung heard from Seulla that you’re returning to Korea next week already?” Woojin greeted as she answered her phone while folding her clothes.

Riseul clips on her earphones,  “Yeah. The scholarship is over, and we’ve decided to continue our residency there.”

“Then schedule a day-off on September. B.A.M’s having a concert. I got you a VIP ticket.” Woojin replies with an air of demand. She wasn’t allowed to say no.

“I don’t think I should even…” she pauses with reluctance to continue her words. “I left the band after all.”

“You didn’t leave the band. You just graduated from it because of reasons that we all accept.  Now, don’t be so stubborn and just say you missed us too. We missed you, by the way. It’s not fun to have an all-guy band. Everyone stinks.” Woojin laughs and Riseul heard from the background Jaehwan’s shrill voice scolding Woojin. “That’s Riseul right? Oh, God. Take back what you said, you ape. You stink the most! You fart during practice!”

“We miss you, Riseul. Remember, September!” Seongwoo’s cool voice was on the phone, and Riseul could imagine how he casually snatched the phone from Woojin and pushed him away with his arms.

“Oops. We’re going back to practice now. See you soon, Ri.” Woojin’s raspy voice bade goodbye without any change to his attitude from when they first became close.

“I miss you all too,” she laughed and immediately realized her defeat as Woojin and the other howled. “Oh God, you had that on speaker didn’t you?”

“Can’t say for sure~” Woojin replied teasingly before cutting off the line.

It has been over an hour since the concert started, and everyone in the band was sweating profusely with the heat from the spotlight, the singing, and the intense playing of their instruments. The first set was almost over before they slipped into a small break.

Suddenly the stage lights dimmed down, and Jaehwan cleared his throat.

“Everyone knows that at each concert, B.A.M performs a song not listed within the setlist. This one’s an old song composed by our former member.  Title is ‘Letting Go’ “

Woojin strummed his bass and there was the familiar rising harmonization.

It would be a lie if she told herself that she didn’t want to perform with them again like the old days.

“Only Jihoon and I are missing,” she tugged the sleeves of the person beside her unable to catch herself before the words flowed out of her mouth.

The two jolted and stepped back for their own reasons.

Hearing herself utter his name rattled her.

Hearing his own name from her lips rattled him.  

“Ah. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was saying,” she retreated her hands away from him. He nodded understandingly trying to brush everything off until someone grazed her lightstick on his beanie, flicking it away and unstrapped the right part of his face mask from his ear.

The young girl immediately noticed what she had done and turned to apologize. “It’s okay.” Jihoon tried to stop her, but as the lightstick illuminated his face, with the face mask half-dangling because it got removed from his right ear, and his brown hair shining, it was only a matter of time.

Then there was recognition in her eyes.

“Aren’t you Park Jihoon?!” she exclaimed and her voice echoed down the concert hall because the song the band was performing was mellow and accompanied by silence from the crowd.

People turned around. Jihoon tried to pick up his beanie and salvage it, but even before he was able to reach it, people came forward, swooping their phones, and turning on their cameras.

He tried to find Riseul in the crowd and saw her being pushed towards the back as she stood there dazed as she stared at his face. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and removed his face mask to mouth off something as he looked at her intently.

“The ticket! Look at the back of ticket,” he mouthed silently hoping Riseul would catch it.

“Phone number… Your ticket… at the back!,” he mouthed again, as he kept being jostled by the crowd. The noise kept attracting more people.

The commotion pushed the security to temporarily stop the concert, keeping them from finishing the song..

She stared at him, and at her hand before flipping the ticket. It was his phone number.

She looked at the ticket, then to him and back to the little piece of paper where he wrote his number. He smiled with relief finally turning to his fans and mumbled apologies.

When he noticed that she stood at the same spot, he looked at her again.

Their eyes locked, and he recognized anger from her narrowed lips and drawn down eyebrows..

She raised her palm holding the ticket before crumpling it and ripping it into small pieces never breaking contact from his eyes.  

notes: the title’s a play on the pronunciation of the dreaded “D” word. Also, because people will kill me if I did use that as the title.

This will be the longest post ever for this fic. I just needed to establish until that part or else the pacing would be awkward. It’s been awhile, but I’m glad to be back. 

Hope you continue supporting me ~ 

[thekrazykeke]

Title: Best I Ever Had

Fandom(s): Black Panther, MCU

Relationship(s): T’Challa x reader. T’Challa & Okoye. Reader x OC. Ayo & reader.

Request: Any time I read a story about Reader fucking up or not doing right by Tchalla she’s either evil or he just leaves her crying in the dust. I want a fic where she fucks up but apologizes, confesses how much she really loves him and is just scared, and HE. FORGIVES. AND LOVES. HER. And she shows him how much she loves him...wink wink. Basically what we do for Erik in these docs where he fuck up but we forgive him! Except Reader and his level of fucked up! Thank you!

Requester: Anonymous

Summary: I’m not afraid of commitment. I’m afraid of surrendering control too quickly, of putting my heart in hands that do not know how to hold it.

Warning(s): Angst, bad decisions, fluff

(Suffer with me) @adiafegan @wikiwakanda @melaninmarvel

Honestly, T’Challa is a cinnamon roll and if anyone’s unhappy in a relationship, just end it. I give that advice every time, you do more damage staying with somebody who you honestly don’t even like because you scared to be alone/lonely. That’s fucked up, so just let that person go, let them be with someone who can appreciate them. Anywho! I know it’s probably implied in the request about ‘Erik’s level of fucked up’ meaning she is supposed to be having an affair/cheating but I couldn’t go through with the whole thing because I’ma sucka. 

#CheatersNeverProsper

~

You had been born in a country that didn’t want you and fighting against a system designed to keep you at the bottom, scrambling for scraps. Being black in America meant that from jump street, you’re at a disadvantage. Even more so, you’re a black woman, and that comes with it’s own set of stereotypes and little boxes to be checked off so other minorities and Caucasians can feel justified in their treatment of you. 

Be too loud, then you hood. Talk too soft, then you shy, overlooked. Dress conservatively, you a square. Show some skin and you a ho. So what do you do with these mixed messages thrown in your face all the time? 

Not give a fuck!

Or at the very least, master the art of pretending to not give a fuck. 

Mama taught you to be independent and how to take care of yourself, pay your bills on time and be a lady. Daddy had a gambling addiction and while he could be sweet as gold, the pipe dream of hitting big and being a millionaire is too tempting for him to kick; you learned that some people are just lost causes.

The core lessons stuck. 

Throughout your life, you bumped your head, stumbled and got lost trying to find who you are as a person. You lost friends along the way, chasing your dreams. Romanticist to the core but you’d been played too many times to the point where you knew all the tricks; you ended up being the one calling the shots in relationships. 

No one had the power to hurt you anymore because you wouldn’t let them. 

One night them and move on, that’s the number one rule. 

Until T’Challa Udaku. 

He swept in your life and thrown everything out of wack. You was used to the hood niggas, fools who wanted you to spread your legs and close your mouth or the hoteps who were fake ‘woke’ and wanted you to be ‘all natural’ and worship them for breathing. Workplace hook ups were entirely too messy. Businessmen, lawyers, doctors, etc. were serious about their craft but they tended to prioritize work over relationships in your limited scope of experience. 

This man, though? 

He was...He is good. 

He treated you with respect, listened to and valued your opinion. Had no issue with spending money on you and wouldn’t complain about the price for anything, opened doors for you and treated you as if you were important, beautiful. T’Challa is one of those rare, one of a kind people and for some reason he wanted you. Can you imagine that? You, one of the many translators that the U.N. had employed but out of everyone there during the press conference where he made history by announcing on live television that Wakanda would be more involved in the world, and share it’s resources, after decades of isolationism, it’s you who caught the attention of a king?

Talk about surreal. 

Admittedly, you thought that T’Challa was just after some easy pussy. You wasn’t no ugly bitch, you’re confident enough to say that much, but you didn’t have time for other people’s foolishness, not even, maybe even especially, a king. Thus, you ignored the chemistry between y’all and tried to keep from lusting over his sexy, polite ass. 

It’s an exercise in failure. 

The first time you ended up in his bed, or to be specific, in a ritzy upscale hotel and he’s all up in ya guts, hitting your G-spot and making you see stars, the morning after, you blamed it on being drunk even though all you did was nurse a beer all night. You tried to sneak up outta there without causing a scene but the Dora Milaje caught you; Okoye didn’t think much of you but your presence seemed to amuse Ayo, her amusement growing when T’Challa joined y’all in the hallway and dismissed them. He wanted to see you again and you made up an excuse for why you couldn’t, or so you tried. It’s a little hard to stick to your guns when he’s french kissing you so sensually and skillfully, reminiscent of when his tongue had played wit yo punani...

Long story short, he’d gotten his way, much to your (delayed) irritation.

Again and again, y’all linked up and the dicking down that you got is always good. Your prerogative is to keep your distance and although you had tried, there’s just something about T’Challa that drew you in, made the walls around your heart trembled and shivered with the need, the want to come down and let him in, especially when he’s open with you. Somehow this had been going on for a month before he asked you if you would date him and despite your misgivings, despite the instinctive response to deflect and retreat, you told him yes. Yes, you told him even though you wouldn’t allow him to come to your house. Or meet any family members. Yes, you told him and while you liked him, truthfully, you’re sprung and in love, you still tried to remain a sense of separation, of independence because that’s all you knew and the rings of self-preservation crawled up your spine every day that you spent at his side and he proved to be a genuinely good man. 

Good men didn’t love like damaged women such as you.

The two of y’all had been together for just under four months now and it’s clear that he wants more. Hell, he deserves more, deserves better. And part of you wants to give in and trust that T’Challa will catch you, each time your mouth opens to throw caution to the wind, you become frozen and chicken out. Maybe it’s that type of vulnerability which Sebastian DeMarco, your ex, sensed and capitalized on, suggesting that y’all get drinks and catch up while he’s in town. Any other day, you’d have refused, cited work, going to church on Sunday, or any other random thing you could think up. 

No, not this time, this time, you said yes. And you didn’t tell T’Challa about it. You said that you were working late and that you’d see him tomorrow. He’d texted back an affirmative, the response a little more clipped than usual since y’all had gotten into an argument earlier. 

For the first time in awhile, you didn’t think about anything or anyone’s feelings, let alone your own. You got turnt the fuck up, bih! It was so much fun, so easy to get a rush of this type of energy. Sebastian had always been fun type, wild and carefree, why hadn’t you hung out with him again before now?

Turning to ask him, you blink when his lips are on yours. 

Just as you go to shove at his chest and demand what the fuck--

“Y/N.” 

Oh. No. 

Heart beginning to pound with anxiety, drunkenness starting to wear off, you turn to see that it’s T’Challa and another male, some resemblance to him, possibly his cousin that he sometimes talked about? 

“Ba--” You try to take a step toward him while the other guy immediately went after Sebastian (”Wassup, nigga!?” “Whoa, whoa, whoa, bro, I’m just tryna smash!”). 

“You told me that you were working late.” T’Challa stated, voice frighteningly blank. “You lied to me.”

“I just needed a night to myself.” The minute to those words leave your mouth, you know it’s a mistake. Hurt flashes across his face before his features become frighteningly blank. 

“Do not worry. You can have the rest of your nights to yourself, from here on out, Y/N Y/L/N.” He says in the coldest tone you’ve ever heard from him. “N’Jadaka!” Calling out sharply to the other, at the corner of your eye, you see that Sebastian’s face is a mess of bruises and bloody. “Let us go. We are done here.” 

“Nigga, is you forreal?! He kisses yo girl and you letting his punk ass walk away breathing?”

“T’Challa, please.” You try to plea, but he ignores you.

“Now, cousin.” As T’Challa turns to go, you reach out for his hand and he dodges your touch. “Do not---!” Biting back words, he shook his head, disappointed and disgusted.  

You stand there, trembling with suppressed emotions, watching as he got further and further away from you, his cousin chewing him out,  tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. Leaving Sebastian groaning on the ground, you find a cafe and have the owner call you a cab. Once you arrive at home, you stand in your empty, lonely apartment. Hand going to your head, you walk past a mirror hanging on the wall, pausing as you catch sight of yourself. 

You look shell-shocked, dumbfounded. Like a woman who had the world in her hands but lost it because she was an idiot. A surge of anger flows through you and you yank the mirror off the wall, flinging it. 

Shards of glass decorating the wooden floor. 

Pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, you laugh and laugh and laugh. Until you cry. For the longest, you just stand there, shoulders shaking and breath seizing your throat as you tried to be silent in your misery. 

And things do not look brighter in the morning. In fact, things look absolutely shitty. Your head hurts because you’re hungover, you can’t talk because your voice is scratchy and you just look like a straight up mess because you fell asleep on the couch, without a bonnet or scarf or nothing. 

Wolf Woman is a thing now. 

If you had the power of time travel, you’d rewind back to two days ago, when you’re in another fancy hotel room, T’Challa tracing the words, ‘I love you’ into your skin while you were ‘asleep’. You cry in the shower because of that. You cry while making breakfast. 

You cry before you leave out for work.

Sebastian calls you while on break and you let it go straight to voicemail. Then delete his number and contact info that he’d snuck into your phone yesterday. God, was it really just yesterday when your whole world came crashing down? Fingers hovering over the buttons, you stare at the screen for a new text message, leg bouncing up and down with anxiety. What do you say, what could you say? Exhaling roughly, you send him the address to your apartment and turn off your cellphone, because you’re a coward. 

Even now you’re trying to protect yourself from more pain and rejection. 

If he doesn’t show up, he doesn’t show up. You’ll accept it. Leave his life and let him move on with someone else. That’s what a good person would do, right? Right, and you’re trying to be better. Throughout the day, you try to focus, but it’s pointless as your mind keeps going back to him and you know your boss is irritated by your behavior but you’re not called out on it, thankfully.

When you get home, it’s not T’Challa waiting for you, but Okoye and Ayo. 

You’re barely able to get a foot out of the car before the General of the Dora Milaje is on you and not in a sexy way, but in a threatening, I will end you type of manner. Her elbow is braced against your throat, applying pressure and she smacks the shit out of you more than once. Literally, you don’t think you have any taste left in your mouth or feeling in your face before Ayo pulls her off.

“Have you no shame?!” The fierce, bald woman demanded, her eyes wild, angry.

“General...General, stop.” 

“You think that because he is soft for you that you can treat our king in any manner--” Ayo blocks her before she can lunge at you again. “I should kill you!”

“I just want to see him.” You say, calm and even toned, heart racing with adrenaline. 

“And you think you have the right?!” Okoye presses a hand on Ayo’s shoulder, about to push her aside but Ayo isn’t budging. “I knew you were not right for him...I told him, I knew it!”

Before you can come up with something witty or smart-alecky to get another smack across the face, “That is not up to you.” 

Okoye ceases trying to murder you for the moment, “Kumkani...”

Ayo hesitantly let her go. 

“We will discuss this breach of trust and insubordination later.” T’Challa says calmly, as if he hadn’t just probably witnessed that embarrassing one sided fight. “Dismissed.” 

“Kumkani...” Disbelief coats Okoye’s voice and features. Ayo, however, merely crossed her arms in the Wakandan salute, marching away. “T’Challa, are you really going to just forgive...” Looking at you with disgust, she closes her mouth, curtly nodded before she also saluted and marched away.

Silence lingers between the two of you for several seconds. 

“Do you want to...come in? Talk, maybe.”

“I do not think that is the best idea.” T’Challa stated, clipped and short. “I should be going as well. I only followed them because I wanted to know what all the secrecy was about and now I have my answer. It does not interest me.”

“Please, T’Challa...” Hand on his wrist, you’re surprised that he allows this. But also, you’re elated because only a day without him and you think that you’re going crazy. You had spent so long with his arms around you, in constant contact, that now that you’re on you’re own, you’re constantly cold, bereft. “Please, just five minutes. Please.”

T’Challa half turned to face you, looking down at you with a blank expression, “I told you that I was done with you.” 

“You’re going to throw away me away for one kiss that I didn’t even initiate?” Again, you’re putting your foot in your mouth. “He kissed me. He kissed me, I didn’t want it.”

He scoffed. “Yet you let him kiss you all the same.”

“I was going to push him away. You came across us before I even got the chance--” His hand is on yours now, he’s trying to get you to let go. “I’m telling the truth, T’Challa, please. If you would just listen to me...”

“You had months to talk to me!” T’Challa shouted. Then when he realized you were staring at him with huge eyes, his normal soft tone returned, “You had months and you chose to just lead me on. Making a fool of me, Okoye was r--”

And you couldn’t stand this anymore. “I was scared, okay?!” Apparently today is the day for dramatic outbursts. “I was t-terrified....of the way...that you make me feel and I...” Vision going blurry with tears, they fell down your cheeks unchecked. “When I get scared, I try and push the problem away but I didn’t want to push you away. And I’m sorry I’m difficult and mean and I don’t always know how to talk about... about anything, but I love you. It’s scary because you see through me sometimes and I can’t...I can’t...” Hiccuping, you let go of his wrists to cover your face, trying to maintain some dignity. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m sorry.” 

This is it, the end of the road, sis.

You had made your pitch and now that he’d seen you for the pathetic, waste of space that you are, just like you promised, you’d let him g--

T’Challa gently gripped each of your wrists, moving your hands out of the way. Embarrassment welled through you and in reaction, even more tears fell down your face. You want to stop crying but it’s so difficult and this isn’t cute or right, tears are not to be used like weapons against people that you loved, after all. “...Do you realize that this is most you have confided in me since we met?”

Guilt stabbed through you. “I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying that.” He lets your wrists go and you let them drop to your sides. “...I was hurt by you kissing that man, yes. Or he kissed you, there is no real difference. But more than that, I was hurt that you lied to me about your whereabouts. I thought I needed time and space away from you, and while I am irritated by Okoye’s actions and interference in my personal matters, her concerns are well placed.”

Swiping at your eyes, you try to get ahold of yourself, “I know.” You bite your bottom lip to avoid apologizing again.

He lifts your chin, making you look at him. “Do you know? Do you understand how cruel you have been to me?” T’Challa doesn’t let you get a word in edgewise and keeps speaking, “We would probably both be better off and better people if we stop seeing each other.” You try and look away but again, he makes you keep eye contact. 

“But like the fool that I am, weak as you make me, I still love you.”

Then much to your astonishment, T’Challa is crying too. 

You probably look like two idiots, crying outside like that and making gossip for your neighbors, but you don’t care. For once, the facade of being a strong, take no shit type of woman is the last thing on your mind as you blubbered, apologizing over and over again. Eventually though, the two of y’all did migrate to your apartment. The reality that you could have lost him, and very much still could if you didn’t handle your shit like an actual functioning adult and communicate more, hit you full force in the face. 

“‘Challa.” Fingers massaging the pulse point of his left hand, you waited until he hummed, showing that he’s listening, “I love you.” Glancing up, you see that the umber skinned male is watching you. Maintaining eye contact, you guide his hand downdowndown, the fabric of your booty shorts the only obstacle, “I love you and I don’t want anyone else to t-t-to...touch me...” Voice stuttering towards the end as his fingers have disappeared underneath the shorts and his long middle finger dips into your puss til the knuckle, sinking in and out, in and out. Hips rising of their accord, wanting more of that touch, still, you tried to stay on script. With shaking, unsteady fingers, you got the zipper of his pants down. When he added another finger, brushing up against your G-spot teasingly, you went a bit cross eyed before you clenched your eyes shut.

T’Challa smacked you on the ass, hard, causing you to flinch and moan. “Do not stop. This is about me right now, not you, and if you cum on my fingers before I am inside you...”

Oh God, the thought of cumming on this man’s fingers. Pulling down his boxers, his dick came free, saluting you practically; your lips find the mushroom head, kissing the tip before swirling your tongue around, collecting pre. You heard him let out a quiet hiss, abdominal muscles tensing and flexing before he relaxed, and rewarded you by adding one more finger. Deciding to be a bit of a tease too, you massaged his balls gently, kissing along either side of his cock for a few seconds and just before he could warn you again, you took him in your mouth. His hand is on the nape of your neck and his hips rose, making you take more and more, relaxing your jaw, you let him use you, fuck your throat. 

By now, you’re practically soaking his hand and maybe even the couch. 

You could probably cum from this. 

As if sensing wayward train of thought, T’Challa removed his fingers and you let his dick fall out of his mouth without being told. 

“Come here.” There’s no way that you’d disobey. Half rising up, you straddle his waist, legs thrown over either side of him and you sloowly sink down on his cock. T’Challa’s hands are on your hips, fingers slightly bruising when you’re finally seated and he’s buried to the hilt. You have to pause for a second there because he’s not some small guy. It’s only when you’re squeezing his shoulder and wiggling in his lap does he start thrusting. The rhythm is slow and drawn out, he doesn’t rush to get off and he’s not going to let you off that easy either, you belatedly realize when you shuck off your shirt and his head dips to take a nipple in his mouth. 

T’Challa knows your body so well and he has the restraint to edge you over and over again, asking in a calm, almost unruffled tone, who you belong to, who is fucking you so good, and each time, you answer him, all but screaming himhimhim, you belonged to him. And just when you thought that you couldn’t take it anymore, he changed up the game again, delivering short, hard strokes to your G-spot, fucking you so good, so right and when you came all over his dick, screaming his name and probably disturbing your neighbors, but who cared cuz the dick was too bomb-- His spine stiffened and his hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, trying to suck him for every last drop of cum as he came inside you. Leaning heavily against T’Challa’s chest, you can feel his own heart thundered beneath your ear, “I love you.”

You heard him snort. 

Then his hand circled the nape of your neck, thumb caressing the skin. 

“I love you too.”

Not everything is magically fixed between the two of you, even with the best dick session to help things along, and the both of y’all knew that. But this was a start, y’all were going to work it out, then maybe, hopefully, be better in the future.

[thedragontamerying]

Stand By Me

Chapter nine is here! Sorry for the missed week and the small delay on this chapter. Like I said previously, I’ve been busy with multiple things, including finding a place to live for school. I’m nervous and excited at the idea of living on my own for the first time. ;w; In all honesty, writing this one was a bit more challenging because it was difficult for me to free write Ardyn without the game’s script helping me. He’s such a piece of trash complex character that it made it a bit difficult to find his voice. But hopefully I didn’t do too badly with him. I hope you enjoy!

Tagging: @seal-pai @insomniasix @theyearofdiamonddogs @zoeyredbird1 @ffxv-ocs-unite

Ch 1 <<< Ch 8 : Ch 10 | [Masterlist]

                                 Chapter IX: He of No Consequence

The group had driven to the location that Talcott had referred to in his story about the possible Royal Arms. After avoiding a vicious midgardsormr, a giant snake that had Prompto chattering his teeth, and taking out a few shieldshears that provided inspiration for Ignis -- thanks to the new abundance of crab meat -- they found themselves at the entrance of the waterfall. The natural wonder was quite a beauty to witness; its water was a crystal clear blue and the sheer size of it was glorious. The light spray from the crashing current was pleasant against the group’s skin, especially after their small scuffle.

“The legend says to look behind the waterfall.” Prompto stated as the group approached the water from a small ledge along the cliffside.

“What does the waterfall say?” Ignis questioned, almost sounding doubtful. From the angle they were at it didn’t look like there was anything but stone wall behind said waterfall.

As they got closer and followed the ledge to the side of the falling water, an entrance into the cliffside revealed itself, right where the legend said. “I think it says, ‘come in’.” With that the others followed the eager gunman in, avoiding being drenched by the water and walking into the large cavern. At first the atmosphere of the cave wasn’t really noteworthy; it was dark and smelled of mildew, as to be expected given its location.

Although, as the group moved further in, the air dropped to a skin numbing chill and the darkness was suddenly glowing blue. The lights clipped on to their individual Crownsguard uniforms revealed that the inner formation of the cave was completely covered in ice. “This place gives me goosebumps,” Prompto rubbed his hands against his exposed arms, “Double back for our coats?”

“What’s the point?” Gladiolus scoffed, “A little chill won’t kill ya.”

Artemisia had to disagree as she felt her finger tips already becoming numb. Artemisia’s petite stature made contorting and flexible movement easy, but it was less efficient when it came to regulating body heat, even with the added muscle she’s built over the years. Despite having her jacket on, she could feel her body temperature nosedive as soon as they entered the cave. She tried warming herself a little by bringing her sleeves all the way down to her wrists instead of folded up at her elbows, as they usually are. It didn’t make much a difference, unfortunately, and rubbing her arms to create heated friction was only a momentary relief.

She was feeling for Prompto, who had no extra layers to protect him from any potential frostbite. She would feel bad for Gladiolus also, but she was too busy being bewildered by his complete disregard for the bitter cold instead. She knew he was usually warmer than most, but this was ridiculous. He’s practically shirtless, for Astrals’ sake!

“Easy for you to say, you walking furnace…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing…” Artemisia shook her head, dismissing Gladiolus’ question. “But I’m with Prompto on this: the faster we can get out of this cold, the better.”

“Indeed, we’re all at risk of hypothermia if we linger for too long.” Ignis retorted, cleaning away some moisture from his glasses. “I suggest we make haste.”

“Well let’s get moving then.” Noctis said impatiently, already moving ahead and taking the lead through the cave. The others followed him quickly, not wanting to be left behind.

Prompto blew a hot breath of air onto his hands in an attempt to warm up. “Well, looking on the bright side, maybe the cold keeps the daemons away.”

“Yeah, because daemons like warmth.”

“Ah, sarcasm.”

Maybe we can use Gladio as a repellent then…

Prompto brushed off the bigger man’s comment and palmed his chin in a contemplative gesture. “What if they’re frozen?”

“Encased in ice…” Despite his earlier sarcasm, Gladiolus added to the thought. He had to admit it was an intriguing idea. “Waiting for something warm to pass by.”

“And then--” Prompto scurried next to Artemisia and jumped, making her flinch back in surprise. “They jump out!” Despite his usual playful attempt to scare her, Prompto turned out to be the one with a shiver running down his spine. The sneeze and his chattering teeth hinted that it was due more to the cold than the previous statement.

Right before Ignis could berate the two for their wild fantasies, the foretold sign of daemons rose from the ground. The unprepared Prompto to jump back and  Artemisia couldn’t help but smile slightly at the irony. “Thanks Prompto, you gave them ideas.”

“I didn’t know they were listening!”

Despite the small surprise entrance, the daemons weren’t particularly difficult. The glutinous flan daemons were slow and didn’t hit hard. The only difficulty was that they may impose was their resistance to most weaponry; having a liquid body came in handy considering swords and bullets just slide through you. A lone hunter caught off guard by a pack of them would be easy prey for the monsters. The royalty of the Lucian bloodline and his retinue, however, were a different story. Noctis launched a small fire bomb at the flans, melting the beasts until nothing was left. The group basked in the dying heat from the fire for a moment, taking in what warmth they could before the magical fire disappeared.

“Well done, Noct.” Ignis praised.

“No big deal,” the young king retorted in a dismissive manner, but Artemisia could see how he puffed his chest out in pride. “I am the Prince of Pain, of course.”

Gladiolus laughed hearing the nickname he personally called Noctis on occasion. Suddenly, a load of melted snow fell on top of the proud ravennette, drenching him and drowning his previous optimistic mood. Poor Noctis stood there frozen and completely silent, staring at his completely dry friends, daring them to go ahead and laugh at him. Gladiolus and Prompto stifled their sounds of amusement, knowing it really wasn’t appropriate even if the comedic karma was. “I’m noticing a pattern,” Noctis stuttered through the cold, “And I don’t like it.”

Ignis sighed, commenting about how he’ll be able to take a warm up once they return to Lestallum. Noctis shook off the snow from his shoulders and head before they continued down the icy path. No doubt he was even more impatient to get through the cave now due to his newly dampened clothes. The group followed Noctis until they came to the edge of the path before it turned into a steep slope into the darkness below. It was completely covered in ice; there was no way they would be able to climb down, or climb up for that matter.

“Heading down a slippery slope, in slip-sliding shoes…” Prompto muttered, staring down the darkened path.

Artemisia looked down the slope, unable to see as where it would take them. She would have rathered they try to find another way further in rather than take a leap of faith, but this appeared to be the quickest way in. Given the depleting temperatures and Noctis’ recently dampened clothes, the quicker they got in and got out the better.

“You have the lead on this, Noct.” She stated through her chattering teeth. “But for time’s sake, please don’t get us lost.”

Noctis scoffed. “Don’t worry, I got this. Let’s go.”

With that final word, he made the first leap, the group sliding down into the unknown cavern below.

“Noct, if I may--”

“Don’t ask.”

“Yep,” Gladiolus clicked his tongue, “We’re lost.”

“Don’t answer!”

Artemisia and Prompto groaned in emotional agony. It had been almost an hour since they took the plunge down into the icy cave, and ever since they’ve been hitting dead ends and running into more daemons. The place was like a maze and the fact that everything was reflecting off of each other, disorienting the group’s sense of direction, wasn’t making anything easier. The occasional fights with the daemons helped keep their body temperatures up, but the overall frustration of their situation overshadowed any physical relief they had.

“I’m freezing!” Prompto complained, rubbing his arms frantically. “What I wouldn’t give for a hot bowl of soup…” He hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes as he imagined the warming bowl in front of him.

“I’ll be sure to whip up a pot when we return to Lestallum,” Ignis assured, “But for now let us focus on the matter at hand.” They approached a narrow ledge, the only other way across to continue their search. Noctis sighed, stepping one foot onto the ledge to test its durability. This wasn’t the first one they’ve come across during their exploration, but each one was just as suspicious as the last one. One slip and it would mean a hard hit to the ground below. Even if the fall didn’t kill them, the possibility of getting trapped in an icy prison wasn’t an appealing one.

After some insistence, Gladiolus was the first one to make it across. If it could hold him, it should be able to hold the others. Ignis was the next, staying light on his feet as he sidled to the other side. Noctis leaned against the icy wall, ready to take his turn across. Artemisia held her breath as she watched him; considering she did the same when the other two went over, it’s surprising she didn’t faint due to a lack of oxygen.

Everyone was quiet, making sure that Noctis could focus on keeping his balance. He was half way across when Prompto chuckled quietly. “Your tips just got frosted, dude.”

“Really?” Noctis blinked, focusing his eyes on the bangs that fell in front of his face. He tried to pull his hair down more so he could see the possibly frosted tips better. “How does it look?”

Suddenly Noctis stumbled, his foot slipping on the ice beneath him. He tried to readjust his balance, but the little space and no traction made it impossible. His body weight shifted and focused into his chest, sending him forward and falling over the ledge. Artemisia was about to scream in horror when Gladiolus quickly caught Noctis’ arm, swinging him back up to safety in a pendulum motion. There was a collective sigh of relief as he laid there on the cold ground, calming his senses from the recent event. Artemisia slide her hands from over her mouth down and over her chest, clutching the fabric over her heart as she willed her heartbeat to slow down. “Let’s not talk about hair right now, guys.”

“Agreed, the last thing we need now are more distractions.” Prompto nodded at the pointed stare from Ignis, drawing a line over his mouth with his fingers before locking and throwing away the metaphorical key.

The five continued on, coming upon another slippery slope as the only way to progress onward. Noctis ignored the skeptical look from Artemisia and jumped down, quickly followed by the others. They landed, falling into a safe roll, in a empty wide open section of the cave. For a moment it looked like all there was to the area were the many icicles hanging from the ceiling and the ones forming on the ground. It wasn’t until they took a couple steps further in did Artemisia notice a familiar door.

“Guys,” the other four turned to her and followed where she was pointing to see the entryway to the royal tomb, “Over there.”

Noctis sighed, digging for the key that Cor had given him. “Finally…”

Gladiolus nudged Artemisia’s shoulder lightly, a smug smile on his face. “See? And you were worried that there wasn’t anything here.” She rolled her eyes but smiled at him. While she still stood by her previous worries, she was glad that they wouldn’t be leaving empty handed.

Noctis brought the key out from his pocket, unlocking the tomb’s ancient doors. The doors groaned as it separated down the middle, snow and icicles that had gathered over the years breaking off and landing at his feet. The blue shine from the cave’s ice lightened up the dark tomb. Somehow the tomb remained untouched from the cold surrounding it, not a bit of snow or ice in it. Noctis approached the stone coffin of the ancient king, where two daggers connected at the hilt laid in waiting. Doing as he had done with the tombs before, he summoned the weapon to with the raise of his hand before the weapon plunged itself into his chest. Its after image appeared with the previous arms that they had collected before breaking away in a light of crystals.

“Woohoo! One royal arm in the bag!” Prompto cheered, instantly regretting it when he raised his arms above his head in celebration. Artemisia could see the shiver that ran down his body from exposing his sensitive underarms to the bitter cold. He quickly brought his arms down, crossing them over his chest as he stuffed his hands under his armpits. “Can we leave now?”

“We have what we came for. I believe we can return to Lestallum proudly as we bring word of our successful endeavours.” Ignis stated.

“No doubt Talcott will be happy to hear how it went.” Noctis added, leaving the now empty tomb to rejoin with the others.

Artemisia sighed. “Hopefully it will be easier to get out of here than it was to get in.”

“Should be fine as long as our Master of Directions isn’t leading.”

“Hey…” Noctis whined, glaring at his smirking shield. “It’s wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course,” Despite the vocal reassurance, the sarcastic tone in Ignis’ voice was not missed. He pushed up his glasses before starting the walk back out of the cave, waving his hand towards him as a gesture for the others to follow. “Come along now.”

Artemisia patted Noctis’ back as he huffed a defeated groan, to which she couldn’t help but chuckle at before Prompto engulfed them both in his arms with a laugh. “Come on slow pokes!” With their heads trapped in his arms, the two were clumsily guided by the excited blonde as the three followed Ignis and Gladiolus.

The relief from the cave’s chill was almost immediate once they reached the entrance from earlier, bringing them back to the waterfall. Even the mist from the waterfall was warm against the group’s’ skin compared to what they had endured for the past hour and a half. Artemisia was happy to have the sun warm her skin; if they weren’t so keen on getting back to Lestallum so quickly, she wouldn’t have minded basking in it for a little cat nap.

She decided to push Gladiolus’ previous comments of the similarities of her and a cat to the back of her mind as they climbed down from the rocky entrance of the cave. Prompto had stopped behind Artemisia and Noctis to take a photo of the waterfall as the other two continued on to follow Gladiolus and Ignis. “Nothing like a small spontaneous winter to make you appreciate days like this.” Artemisia smiled over to her friend who no doubt was grateful for the heat so his previously drenched jacket could dry.

Noctis opened his mouth to reply before he suddenly keeled over, clutching his head. “Noct?” Artemisia placed a hand on his shoulder before Noctis’ knees gave out and he fell against her. “Noctis!” Artemisia caught him the best she could, wrapping her arms around him and lowering the two of them to the ground the best she could with the sudden added weight. “Noctis, what’s wrong?!”

The other guys, hearing Artemisia’s distressed voice, ran over to them. Prompto slid next to Noctis on his knees, frantically asking what was going on. Gladiolus and Ignis hurried over also questioning the sudden ordeal. Noctis groaned in pain, taking in one more sharp intake before his breathing slowed to long labored pants as though he had just finished a long marathon. The grip on his head became slack to a gentle rub against his temple. Soon he shifted his weight off Artemisia to support himself with his hands against the grassy ground.

“Noct, you okay?” Prompto asked, the concern clear in his voice. Despite his condition seeming to improve, everyone still stood on edge for another sudden affliction to overtake him.

Noctis tried to respond but his words came out slurred and misunderstood. He took a moment before attempting to talk again. “What was that…?”

“What is it?” Gladiolus asked.

“A hole in the ground… Something burning. The Meteor?”

Artemisia blinked in shock, her and Ignis giving each other knowing looks. “You saw the Disc of Cauthess.” Ignis stated, a tone of awed disbelief in his voice.

“But why?” Artemisia asked, her and Prompto helping Noctis to his feet. “Why would he just suddenly have a vision of the meteor?” Everyone was quiet, having no answer to the question.

“Let’s head back to Lestallum.” Gladiolus suggested, coming next to Noctis. “We can figure it out on the way there, maybe find answers there.” He patted Noctis on the shoulder, giving a small shake to it. “You got it?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Noctis reassured. Any pain he was in a moment ago seemed to fade away, or at least it dulled away to something more manageable than the intense agony he felt before.

After a comment about reporting back to Talcott from Prompto, the team traced their steps back to the parked Regalia and made the trip back to Lestallum. The entire ride Artemisia would check Noctis’ condition for any more head pains, to which he seemed to suffer from at random. After the a couple of signs of distress, Artemisia had handed him a few pills of pain medication from her side pouch. Noctis had questioned why she just happened to have a bottle of medication on her person. He decided to just accept it when she simply answered “All women carry them.”

They arrived back at the Leville in Lestallum to find Talcott, Jared and Iris in the lobby waiting for them. Talcott was the first to notice them, hopping up from his seat and waving to them. “Prince Noctis! Welcome back!”

“Your story came to a happy end.” Ignis informed with a smile to the young boy.

“Well, well…” Jared hummed, smiling and pointedly looking over to Artemisia. She returned it with her own smile and a nod of gratitude.

“We owe you, Talcott.” Noctis thanked the young man. As Talcott was about to respond to his thanks when suddenly Noctis gasped in pain and clutched his head. Talcott and the others flinched back in surprise to his sudden ailment. Before the other four could react, his pain left as quick as it came. Noctis groaned slightly at the lingering pains. “Not again…” Iris came to his side, concern all over her face. “What’s the matter? You alright?”

Before Noctis could answer, Gladiolus came over to his side. “He’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He assured his sister nonchalantly. Iris relaxed a little, her anxiety shifting back to confusion. He patted Noctis on the back, helping him stand up straight. “But we outta take a closer look at this so called ‘Disc’.”

“Then look no further than the Outlook.” Prompto declared. “We can use the viewer things.”

“Viewfinders,” Artemisia corrected.

Ignis brought his thumb to his bottom lip as he pondered. “No substitute for being on site, but it would be a start.” He looked over to Noctis as he addressed the others. “Let’s see what we can glean of Noct’s condition.” He addressed Iris and the two others after the rest of their group agreed. “We apologize for such a swift reunion, but duty calls.”

“Of course, do what you must.” Jared assured.

“I’ll keep everyone safe while you’re gone, Prince Noctis!” Talcott promised enthusiastically.

Noctis let out a small laugh. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“We’ll see you guys later.” Gladiolus gave Iris a quick one-armed hug before following Noctis out of the Leville. Artemisia lingered behind for a moment, noticing the repressed worry in Iris’ eyes. She gave the young girl a smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Everything will be okay. We’ll be back before you know it.” Iris gave a weak smile in return, her worry still present despite her friend’s reassurance. Artemisia gave the three one more goodbye before leaving to catch up with the guys.

Despite her words to Iris, the closer they got to the Outlook, the bigger sense of dread boiled within Artemisia’s stomach. She was unsure as to why her anxiety was suddenly accelerating until she saw the familiar locks of unique maroon hair contained by an old fedora. “Guys…” Artemisia warned them in a low whisper. There stood the same shaggy man from Galdin Quay, the same who told them about the closed port. Despite the aloof man’s disheveled appearance and casual demeanour, Artemisia couldn’t help but feel apprehensive being around the man. She couldn’t really explain why, but the man’s overall presence was foreboding.

The retinue slowed to a cautious walk once the man waved at them with a smile. “What a coincidence.”

“I’m not so sure it is.”

Good to know Gladio's on the same page...

The man, seeming to ignore Gladiolus sharp tone, approached the group nonchalantly. “Aren’t nursery rhymes curious things?” The guarded five glanced at each other, all of them just as confused as the other at the odd statement. “Like this one,” the man continued, pointing at the shining Disc while looking Noctis dead in the eyes. “From the deep, the Archen calls. Yet on deaf ears, the god’s tongue falls. The King made to kneel, in pain he crawls.” Gladiolus and Ignis stepped in front of the group, directing the ominous man’s gaze away from their king. Prompto poked out from behind the two. “So, uh, how do we keep him on his feet?”

He smiled at the question. “You only heed the call.” He walked through the parting group, stopping to look down at Artemisia who had remained further back. “Visit the Archen and hear his plea.” His stare remained hard on her even after he spoke, as though he was awaiting for her to respond. She didn’t -- in fact, she was certain that she couldn’t. What ever apprehension she had of the man was enough to trap her voice in her throat. She looked away, noting how his smile seemed to grow at the action.

Gladiolus’ hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her behind him as he took on the suspicious man’s stare. His amber eyes darkened in warning at the stranger. Despite Gladiolus’ menacing stance, the man shrugged and walked a few steps away, his body language relaxed as though nothing has happened. “I can take you.”

The five remained silent to the offer. Every alarm in Artemisia’s mind screamed that he couldn’t be trusted; that they should go to the Archen without him. They don’t need a creepy tour guide when they have a map that shows how to get to their destination. It’s worked for them so far. Gladiolus moved his hand from Artemisia’s wrist and pressed between her shoulder blades, guiding her back to the other three to form a small group huddle. “We in?” The Shield asked once they joined.

“I don’t know…” Noctis muttered, no doubt sharing Artemisia’s anxiety about the odd man.

“I would rather if we didn’t,” she added, “I don’t trust this, or him…”

“In regards to trusting him, I agree with you. However,” Ignis argued, “The Disc of Cauthess is under Imperial guard. If there’s any chance that he would be able to get us in without causing a stir, we might want to seize it.”

“So we hitch a ride…”

Prompto trailed off, to which Gladiolus finished.

“...But watch our backs.”

Ignis and Noctis agreed, leaving Artemisia to reluctantly go along with the decision. She still would have preferred they find another way in. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she wanted to avoid all contact with this man, regardless of if he’d be of use to them or not. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Her sense of dread only worsened when she saw the man smirk. “Come with me then.” The man sauntered towards the parking lot with the five friends in tow. “I’m not one to stand on ceremony, but such an occasion calls for an introduction.” He looked over his shoulder and lifted his fedora. “Please, call me Ardyn.” He approached an old fashioned automobile, painted a light maroon with gold trimmings that adorned the exterior and beige interior of the car. “This here is my automobile. She’s a dear old thing.” Ardyn announced, caressing the hood of his treasured vehicle.

“Pales next to your Regalia -- ” Why does he know about our car? Has he been spying on us? “ -- but she’s never let me down.”

Ardyn gave one more pat to his car before gesturing to the Regalia a few spots back. “So we take two vehicles, a convoy of sorts.” Artemisia felt some relief knowing that at least she wouldn’t be trapped in car with this Ardyn for who knows how long. This way they can keep themselves at a safe distance from him. “Allow me the honor of assigning your driver.” Ardyn hummed, looking over the group inquisitively. “I choose… you.” He dramatically pointed at Noctis. The young king shrugged.

“Fine by me.”

“With that decided, let us be off.”

The group split off from Ardyn, both going to their respective vehicles. Noctis took the driver’s seat, leaving Artemisia to be squeezed between Ignis and Gladiolus again. The former tried what he could to give her more space, and even though she appreciated the gesture, Artemisia assured him not to worry about it so much. Trying to maintain a distance that was comfortable for both of them would be nearly impossible once the car was moving through the twists and turns of the road, especially with their speed-demon king driving. Both her and Ignis decided to ignore Gladiolus’ suggestion that she just sit in one of their laps. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad tip, but she didn’t want to subject any of them to that embarrassment.

Or give Gladiolus the satisfaction of being right.

Once they were on a quiet road just outside of Lestallum, Noctis slowly stopped the car so that their mysterious guide could come to the front of them. “Just to be clear, this isn’t a race.” Ardyn stopped next to them, speaking to them from his top down car. “It is a chase. You are not to pass me.”

Well that was an ominous way to say don’t speed ahead.

“Lose sight of me and you’ll lose your way. And no tailgating,” he added, “An accident would spoil the trip.”

“Alright, alright let’s hit the road already.” Noctis urged impatiently.

“As you wish,” Ardyn tipped his hat at them once more before slowly driving ahead, “Drive safely now.” With that, Ardyn sped off down the road, not even bothering to make sure that the others were close behind. Noctis was quick to follow though, making sure that they didn’t lose their guide as he rushed ahead of them.

“First Galdin and then Lestallum,” Prompto mumbled once Ardyn was out of earshot, “What a coincidence, huh?”

“Way too convenient to be a coincidence.” Gladiolus scoffed. “I reckon he’s following us around.”

“Good to know I’m not the only one who thinks that…”

“But to what end?” Ignis added. “That question bothers me deeply, as does his origin.”

Prompto hummed, looking at the sky thoughtfully. “It’s hard to picture that guy in the Empire.”

“But it’s even harder to imagine him as a Lucian.”

“Personally, I would have rathered we find our own way to the Disc.” Artemisia stated, with Ignis agreeing in tow. Though, as Prompto was quick to point out, Ardyn looked like their only way to the Disc and they couldn’t pass on the opportunity; especially with Noctis’ health on the line.

“What’s his Highness’s opinion of this Ardyn?” Gladiolus asked their driver.

“Don’t really have one,” Noctis sighed, “He’s nothing more than a creepy old dude to me.”

Prompto chuckled. “Ya hit the nail on the head right there. Did guys see the way he looked at you?” Prompto glanced at his friend beside him and Artemisia in the back. Noctis groaned. “Yeah, we noticed.” Artemisia and him locked eyes for a moment through the rear view mirror, both of them sharing an uncomfortable look at the previous memory.

“That’s why we came up with a plan.” Gladiolus stated, stretching his left arm behind Artemisia and laying it across the back board. The gesture gave more space between him and Artemisia, allowing her to breath a little easier. It helped calm her agitated nerves over their predicament, at least a small bit. She patted him lightly on the knee -- the closest substitute from his arm -- as thanks. He blinked down at where her hand connected with his knee before looking back to the road, seeming to not pay much attention to it.

“Noct, how are the headaches?” Ignis asked.

“Fine for now, but they come without warning.” Noctis replied with a small groan. The last thing they needed was for their driver to experience a sudden debilitating migraine behind the wheel. Losing their guide, who was still speeding on ahead of them, would be the least of their worries at that point. “Stop if you need to, alright?” Prompto encouraged, looking at his bestie with concern.

After a while longer of driving, with thankfully no headache induced accidents, Noctis had noticed that Ardyn had pulled into the Coernix outpost and followed behind him. Ardyn approached the group as they waited in the Regalia, curious about the sudden stop. “What say we call it a day here?”

“What say we continue on to Cauthess.” Gladiolus practically growled at the eccentric man.

Ardyn lowly whined with an unfitting pout on his lips. “The Archen isn’t going anywhere…”

“Neither are we under your stewardship.” Ignis snapped back, an edge in his usually smooth voice. Despite their protests, it didn’t look like their escort was set on staying for the night. Admitting defeat, the five exited the Regalia. “So we make camp…” Prompto came to Noctis and Artemisia’s side, “With Ardyn.”

“Hell no.” Noctis grumbled. Artemisia tensed up slightly at the thought of having to potentially share resting space with the offputting man. None of the them were happy about it, but if they wanted to get to the meteor they had to follow whatever odd request.

Gladiolus sighed. “Might as well get the tent up.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’ve never really been one for the outdoors.” Ardyn blocked Gladiolus from the Regalia’s trunk, seemingly unaffected by the larger man’s glare. “I shall foot the bill, so let us stay at the caravan over yonder.”

The group eyed him suspiciously before reluctantly agreeing. Artemisia dreaded this, possibly even more than she dreaded potentially camping with him, at least then he could have just stayed in the one extra tent they brought in case their main one was damaged. Now, he’ll be in the same small spacing as them -- while they sleep.

She was starting to wish she had been more assertive about her feelings when they were back in Lestallum.

Night had quickly fallen as the traveling group settled around the caravan, the five and their guest setting up a small table to relax around as they talked amongst themselves. Although, relaxed might be the wrong word. The five listened as Ardyn babbled on, adding onto whatever conversation the guys were having or telling his own story. He continued to cement his lack of consideration for personal space, gesturing dramatically with his hands coming only inches away from Prompto’s face everytime. Ignis kept his watchful eyes on the peculiar man, sticking to the further end of the caravan as he watched over the whole group. Gladiolus sat as comfortably close to the other three as he could in cased he needed to act.

Despite his strange speech and intrusive body language, Ardyn never did anything that was particularly threatening.  A few of those hand gestures had gotten too close for everyone’s comfort -- especially for poor Prompto -- but nothing dangerous enough to warrant action. Artemisia had been keeping a sharp eye on him, watching him as he walked around them as he went off on a topic that she wasn’t paying attention to. Ardyn circled the table once more before taking a seat on the further end, continuing his conversation when Artemisia felt a buzz come from her pocket.

Being as discreet as she could, she partially pulled her phone out of her pocket and saw she had received a message from the Hunters. She glanced at the others, seeing that the three at the table were still preoccupied with talking with their guest; only Ignis made eye contact with her from where he stood. Artemisia glanced off to the side, silently signaling to behind the caravan. The lanky man subtly nodded in return.

Artemisia glanced at the others once more before silently leaving her seat, the other four men not seeming to notice her leave. Once in the shadow of the caravan, Artemisia unfolded her map from her pouch and pulled out her phone, the screen illuminating through the darkness. She placed the fully unfolded map onto a vacant table and opened the message on her phone.

Edmon:

We’ve gotten some hints towards looking West for the royal arms

Unfortunately that’s about all that we’ve gotten today, tipsters are only able to give us vague location details or folk stories

We’ll keep looking into things and send some people out that way, but if you know of anyone with reliable intelligence don’t hesitate to call them and have them meet with us

Artemisia sighed, tapping her finger against the back of her phone case. She shouldn’t be surprised; it’s not like they were going to suddenly know more compared to that same morning. If it weren’t for Jared and Talcott then even they wouldn’t have found the royal arm that they did today. Chances are though that neither of the two would know any more legends that luckily have some truth to them. At this point however, Artemisia would be willing to put another bet on one of those stories again.

A quick idea flashed in her head, a source for some under the table favors and information, though she just as quickly pushed that to the back of her brain; that was going to take a lot of bargaining and debating and time she didn’t have at the moment. Still it was something to look into for the future. Until then, her and the hunters would have to do with what they had. She texted back Edmon.

                                                                          Keep looking into those if you can

                                                  I might have an idea of who to get in contact with                                                   for more clues but that’s going to take a bit, I’ll let                                                                        you know when I have a plan set up

                                    In the meantime, could you send me a location update for

“Aren’t you the ever diligent worker?”

Artemisia jumped, recognizing that venomously smooth voice immediately. She quickly finished her message and sent it before turning around to face Ardyn. He leaned against the flat surface of the caravan, the tip of his fedora blocking his eyes and a small sneer on his lips. She shoved her phone into her back pocket and hastily grabbed her map. Ardyn tilted his head, “Secrets that you wish to keep hidden?”

“J-Just some personal business that I needed to finish.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Ah, but of course. Such a busy body you are.” He wandered away from the trailer, aimlessly pacing. “Though, given your group’s situation I suppose that’s to be expected.” Artemisia shifted uncomfortably, glancing between Ardyn and back to where the rest of the guys were. This man was only cementing Artemisia’s suspicions of him stalking them and the last thing she wanted was for him to get any more information than what he already likely has. She took a step back, “I’m going ba--”

“I can only imagine the stress your under, my dear.” Ardyn looked at her over his shoulder. “After all, you aren’t really cut out for this job, aren’t you?”

Artemisia’s eyes widened, the feeling of her heartbeat picking up and her clenching throat made it hard for her to breath. “I-I don’t understand--”

“Oh, I think you do.” Ardyn mockingly tsked, walking towards her. “Secrets are hard to keep, my dear, and you’re not hiding that one very well.” Artemisia took a step back. “I can see it all, written on your face.” He took one forward. “There’s nothing particularly remarkable about you, is there?” He lowly snickered. “I suppose under normal circumstances your intellect would be admirable, but that’s already taken care of by someone else. Someone much more capable.” Every step Artemisia took back, he took two more after her. “You’re not much of a fighter, and you’re at an obvious disadvantage when compared to your companions. Perhaps entertainment? Ah, but the little gunslinger is much more suitable for that. I suppose that leaves your generosity, but there’s plentiful of that from strangers around you.” He’s smirk widened as he gestured to himself. “Doesn’t leave much for you to contribute.”

Artemisia’s back hit the caravan, leaving her trapped between it and the man before her. Her fingers clawed at the paint of the wall, trying to find anything to hold onto; anything to ground her; anything to protect her. Ardyn’s eyes seemed to glow ominously glowed as he joined her in the darkness. “Such an oddity, isn’t it? It looks like this was all a long, drawn out mistake.” Tears threatened the edges of her eyes as Ardyn whispered his last words. 

“It looks like you’re a mistake.”

“What’s going on here?”

Ignis stepped out from the side of the caravan and looked upon the event with alarm in his eyes.

Ardyn slowly stepped away from Artemisia. “Ah, the dear here appeared ill and I feared she was faint.” Artemisia’s gaze immediately lowered when he looked at her once more before he sauntered towards Ignis. “I worry the poor girl may be overworking herself. You should keep better care of her.” Ardyn’s voice lowered as he passed Ignis. “You wouldn’t want to lose her, after all.”

Ignis glared as the strange man rejoined the other three before quickly going to Artemisia’s side. “Artemis, are you alright?” Ignis gently rubbed her shoulder as Artemisia released a shaky breath, her body trembling. “What happened? Did he do something?”

Artemisia wiped the specks of tears from her eyes and took a deep breath in and out, trying to calm her racing heart beat. The last time she froze up like that was when she was just a child. Every instinct she had screamed at her to run or to fight back, but the overwhelming fear in her gut kept her in glued in place. “I don’t know who or what he is, but we need to get away from him.”

“Believe me, I agree with you.” He looked down at her trembling hands. “Now more than before, if that were possible.” He took her hands into his, softly caressing them and urging her nerves to settle. “It’s just one night. Once he gains us entry to the Disc, we’ll have no reason to be near him.”

Her heart pounded in her chest and Artemisia could feel her breathing becoming panicked. “I-I can’t…” Her eyes became glossy again and the shame Artemisia felt rose. She was acting like a child, she shouldn’t be crying just because of the words of a stranger. But everything he said hurt; everything he said was harsh; everything he said was true.

I don’t belong here I don’t belong here Ismene made a mistake I’m not cut out for this I have to get away before the others find out they can’t find out they can’t know that I’m a fake what if they already know they know that I’m useless they’re just keeping me around out of pity No No No PLEASE No

“Artemis!” Ignis shook her shoulders, snapping her back to reality. “Everything will be okay.” The light from inside of the trailer turned on, shining on the two from the window above them. “Gladio and I already discussed a sleeping arrangement so we’ll be on constant alert. Him and Noct will be taking the first shift while Prompto and I keep watch. You should join them and get some rest.”

Artemisia looked down at the ground.

“I promise, Artemis, that no harm will come to you or anyone else.”

While she was still nervous, she reluctantly gave in and nodded. Whether if it was from Ignis’ comforting words or her anxiety starting to calm down for a moment, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion rush over her body as it finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like hours. Ignis walked her to the trailer’s front door, softly urging her in. “Get some rest, Artemis.”

“ ‘Night Artemis!”

Artemisia weakly waved goodnight to Prompto before closing the door behind her. Gladiolus was in the middle of taking his shoes off while Noctis seemed to be making himself comfortable for bed already. Popping his last boot off, Gladiolus smiled up at her. “There you are. We were wondering where you wondered off to.” Gladiolus smile dropped. “Were you crying?”

Artemisia blinked, realizing that her eyes must still be red from before. She touched the corners of her eyes and felt that they were slightly puffy from irritation. Gladiolus stood up and took her wrist in his hand, gently moving her hand to the side so he could have a better look. He frowned seeing the obvious signs of distress.

The bed creaked as Noctis sat up, looking over at the two with concern. “Everything okay?”

Artemisia sighed, removing her hand from Gladiolus’.

“I hope so.”