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raitrolling · 2 years

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Messy In My Misery

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

Velour didn’t sleep at all that day, or the following night either. There was no way he could, not when he had no idea what Veruco was going to do.

She had blocked him on both Twitter and Instagram, which he had expected. That meant he could not look up her account to see if she had posted anything about him, something he ordinarily wouldn’t do. Sure, he had a habit of googling his own name and keyword searching on social media to see what people were saying about him, but he would never go through someone else’s account. It made him feel like a stalker, but just thinking about what she could have been saying about him now made him sick to his stomach.

She was not online in his Discord server, either. Or perhaps, like him, she was only appearing offline. What could she be talking about to people outside of the channels designated for fans? She said that she had no one else but him which made him think those people she talked to on the server were only acquaintances, but what if…

But it was all quiet. Too quiet, as the cliche goes. And that just made Velour even more anxious.

He had gotten changed into an outfit with long sleeves to hide the bruising on his wrist. He didn’t want to think about it, but he couldn’t not think about it. He could be using his time to be more productive right now, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on any of his fashion design projects, and the thought of trying to film a video now was nauseating. The next video he’ll have to make will be an apology video, won’t it? No doubt she’s already constructing a means to perfectly slander him, twisting the context of all his words to make him seem like he was always the bad guy-

Well, he kind of was. Good people don’t end up in situations like this, with their careers in the hands of a single whistleblower.

He should probably start drafting up the script for such a video, given how likely it is that he’ll need to post one as soon as possible. But what should he be trying to predict? Would she say that he was leading her on, and broke her heart when he turned her down? Could she find other upset and heartbroken fans he wasn’t aware of to make her statements more credible, and then he has multiple people he needs to consider in his apology? What if she outright lied?

He sat at his computer desk, an empty Word document opened up in front of him, and his head in his hands. His second monitor was automatically refreshing the ‘New’ tab of his YouTube channel’s Subreddit, and the screen suddenly flashing white whenever the page reloading stung his tired eyes. He should try and get some rest now, but he felt simultaneously exhausted and completely wired.

Bang, bang.

He almost jumped out of his skin when there was a knock on the door, and a loud yelp escaped from his mouth. Thankfully, the voice on the other side was one he was familiar with.

“Jesus, Vel, you alright in there? It’s only me, I’ve got your mail.”

Velour opened the door and was greeted by Aiolos’ amused smile. Though, that smile faded when the other blueblood saw the state of his childhood friend.

“Ok, I thought you were screaming because you were about to get caught filming something embarrassing. You look like total shit dude, what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing.” Velour waved his hand. Aiolos was not convinced, but didn’t feel any need to press on. “Did you say you have my mail?”

“Nah, the mail delivery guy doesn’t have your mail. Hmm, gee, I wonder why else he’s here,” The other blueblood grinned, and bopped Velour on the head with a stack of letters before handing them over to him. “Of course I’ve got all your weird fanmail. One of these fucking reeks of perfume, and not a good kind.”

Fanmail. What if she had sent something? Do the postal services still check for anthrax?

Velour tried his best to smile, not wanting to make his friend worry.

“Oh! Thanks! I could have gone down there myself to collect it, but, ah… You know. I’ve been very busy, as you can probably tell.” He laughs awkwardly.

“Yeah. I can tell.” Aiolos deadpanned. He didn’t even have a witty remark to make about it, which Velour knew was an awful sign. “I don’t know what shit you’ve been up to and I don’t think I want to know, but get some sleep dude.”

“I will, don’t worry about it,” Velour smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring, then glanced over at the letter still in Aiolos’ hand. “Oh, did you get one too?”

Aiolos held up the letter and grinned. “What, are you jealous? It’s probably just a prank, let’s be real here. My fans are too busy mailing our channel jars of peanut butter and anything that can be wrapped up to look like a dildo.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Inside joke, don’t ask.” Aiolos laughed, then turned to head into his own apartment.

Velour decided not to.

He closed the door behind him, locked both the main lock and the deadbolt (which he normally would only lock the latter before he went to bed), double checked to make sure the door was definitely locked, then slid down against the door until he was down on the floor, sighing loudly.

He stared at the letters in his hand. True to Aiolos’ word, one of them did smell like dollar store perfume, which Velour knew would not be from Veruco. She wore a brand that smelled like wildflowers, an overpowering mixture of sweet and herbal tones that resembled if someone poured multiple teas into the same mug. A smell he cannot accurately recall, but would know experiencing the scent once again would make him feel sick. He sniffed each envelope until he found the perfumed culprit (feeling gross from the thought that he’s smelling fanmail in the first place), and then put it aside. That one is safe.

The next four letters all have return addresses on them, and none of them related to Veruco or the Miopah business. Also safe. He considers opening them up now and reading through them to see if perhaps someone has written him a nice pick-me-up. But why would they? No one knows how he feels, he hasn’t gone public about it yet. And, despite his desperation to get his side of the story out there before the other voice is heard, he doesn’t think he can. For one, it would be unfair to the girl with the broken heart, and two, he doesn’t want pity from his fans. If they worry about him, he might risk closing the gap to them too much again. And if they don’t, they may instead see his ugly and cowardly side and turn their backs.

That left the final letter in his hand. The address to his PO Box written plainly on the front, no return address on the back. The only stamp was a generic Alternia post stamp in the top right-hand corner, and no other distinguishing features that could suggest the letter’s origin.

Was that identical to the one in Aiolos’ hand?

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Is he thinking too hard? It’s only been a single night, how quickly could she prepare to write and then send letters? She was furious when he left her, and could have easily written something in a rage when she arrived home, and the postal service does prioritise highblood deliveries…

He stood back up, and grabbed the letter opener from his desk nearby. He slid it underneath the seal flap, and began carefully dislodging the adhesive. It was a technique he used to first check fanmail he had planned to open up on camera to make sure the contents were appropriate, and not to make it as obvious if he needed to do multiple takes for opening and reading the letter.

As the letter opener reached the bottom of the seal flap, it hit something metallic with a soft clink. Confused and more than a little worried, he pulled out the letter opener and slid it under the other side to peel that away first. Then, he pulled from both sides to dislodge the bottom piece of the adhesive without getting his fingers anywhere near the metallic object.

Underneath the flap was a blade that would have certainly sliced his fingers had he opened the envelope normally. Extra blades had also been stuck to the inside of the envelope, and Velour did not dare reach in to grab the letter inside.

“Oh- Oh my god.”

The envelope fell out of his shaking hands and hit the floor. He staggered backwards, hand over his mouth, until his back hit the side of the couch behind him.

Her lusus was a stonefish, he recalled her saying once. Could she have also tipped the blades with its venom? Was this only a threat, or was she genuinely attempting to kill him?

Velour had no idea what to do. The possibility of his life being in danger was becoming more likely, unless this was just to scare him into thinking that. Could this have just been a distraction? Highbloods are known to scheme, and he couldn’t put it past Veruco just because she was quiet.

He flopped over the armrest and landed on the couch cushions, staring up at the ceiling. He had to try and make amends before things grew out of hand. He had to figure out her plans without resorting to something as awful as stalking her. He had to make sure everyone else is left in the dark, so his fans don’t suspect something is wrong and start asking questions. So much to do, so little time left.

Instead, all he could do was lie motionless on the couch for hours, the exhaustion finally taking its toll and overpowering all other emotions. Except the regret he will feel later on.

…

Later that night, while performing yet another search through his social media feeds to check for signs of the news finally reaching the public, Velour happened to catch a new tweet at the top of his recommended feed.

aiolos>>>> (NEW MERCH DROP 20/1) @.BIFFSVOO_GonePostal

great news guys, the mailbox is suspended indefinitely thanks to people being fucking freaks about it. everyone put your hands together for the asshole who sent me an envelope full of razor blades, you ruined it for everyone👏👏👏

20 replies - 135 retweets - 2.1k likes

The discovery that she was also targeting his friends made his heart stop.

#drabble #velour #aiolos hummel #plot: pedestal #its been years since i wrote aio and you can tell LMAO #also forgive me for the cringe of including a tweet as part of the drabble like that one godawful book a certain shit author put out

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joontier · 3 years

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Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report x

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: R-18 | genre: humor, romance, smut (voyeurism, masturbation), swearing

warnings: GET READY FOR SOME ACTIONNNNN

word count: 1.8k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Right after you put away your groceries, you take a quick shower and head to bed. Truly, there was nothing better than a refreshing shower after a long day - especially when you know you’re not going to be able to enjoy times like these anymore once you start working. Just then, you recall having to set your alarm early tomorrow because it was your first day, plus the other two wanted to meet up for breakfast before heading to work.

As you lie on your bed, scrolling through your barely active social media accounts, you hear a soft thud coming from Ayoung’s apartment. Huh, she must be moving stuff - seems strange though that she’s doing it with a potential tenant present. You don’t pay much attention to it though until it happens again and suddenly a faint moan reaches your ears. Your eyes widen, thoughts of all sorts running through your head. You must be mistaken. You should be mistaken.

You hear it again, and it gets repetitive until there’s a steady rhythm that has you certain about something that could be happening there. You’re really not one to meddle with people’s private businesses, especially ones of this particular kind. You push each incoming thought away, regardless if it is an innocent one or not. It proves otherwise though, with the sound coming in clear for a wall separating the two apartments.

At the same time, you also wish the best for Ayoung and if this man is a moving-away gift in disguise as this one, well you’re incredibly happy for her. Who were you to take that happiness away from her? But as the man’s grunts become more audible and prominent, your immediate reaction to it is beyond you, and you’re almost involuntarily rubbing your thighs together at the sound.

‘No’, you think to yourself, stopping your southward train of thoughts and its imminent course of action. Rubbing at your temple, you wonder how could you even allow such pompous thoughts cross your mind.

Groaning, you lie on your stomach and mush your face against your pillow as if to block those indecent images threatening to corrupt your mind. It isn’t right to get off someone else’s steamy evening, more particularly, that of your friend’s, so you close your eyes and focus on trying to get some sleep.

You can’t.

Not when this man’s heavy breathing sounds just as hot as Ayoung finds him to be.

Not when this man sounds just like a porn star.

And especially not when this man’s vocals are so stimulating to the point that it feels like an invitation for you to join the fun. Or at least, take an imaginary part in it.

Holy shit.

Tapping your fingers furiously on the bed covers, you ask yourself if you have really reached this level of desperation? That your lack of human touch is causing you to question the very principle of civility?

You shake your head as you reach for your earphones. Coincidentally, Spotify’s shuffle decides to land on a Jamie Foxx track.

What is with the universe constantly trying to fuck you up?

You tap on the next button quickly, turning the volume all the way up in the hopes of ridding yourself of unclean thoughts, that is, until you hear Satan himself let out a particularly loud grunt, one you can practically feel travel straight to your core. Jesus.

The voice of your evil miniature self on your left shoulder whispers in your ear, “It isn’t often for you to get ahold of an opportunity like this. Go get some,” she says, holding your angelic self on a chokehold with her own halo.

She had a point though, and you really could only imagine having more time for yourself starting tomorrow. Besides, it’s been a while since you truly ‘relaxed’. And to top all of that, with the apartment walls as thin as paper, you can literally feel your neighbor’s bed now moving in a steady rhythm. You’re even surprised you’ve managed to keep your self-control this long. Not long enough though, unfortunately.

Now that you’ve come to think of it, this man must be on a different level entirely if Ayoung could let herself get...dicked down during a simple visit (and for the first time too!). Just imagining what he probably looks like is sending a light tingle down your spine.

You sigh, ultimately giving into the temptation. There’s no turning back now.

Slowly, you slide your shorts down your legs, giving yourself time to still contemplate...but, hesitation was never really your strong point (a trait of yours that had truly blossomed since your friendship with Chohee). So off go your underwear too.

As quietly as possible, you scoot over to the wall, just enough to let your shoulder touch your old, boring, beige wallpaper. You feel your neighbor’s bed move with a little more intensity this time, and you trail your fingers downward to your cunt, which is surely wet by now with all your thinking.

The man’s grunts are louder than Ayoung’s thankfully, leaving everything to your imagination. You start at a steady pace, wanting to test the waters. With the couple just a mere distance away from you, save the wall separating your apartments, you try to match your pace with the pair.

Letting your digit circle your clit, you work yourself out to your orgasm - that is, until your climax won’t arrive and you figure just using your fingers won’t get the job done. Just as if you thought the sounds they were making weren’t enough to get you over the edge. It’s been a while since you had any ‘action’ and your rust ass won’t allow you to cum with just your fingers.

Hurriedly, you draw out a small box from beneath your bed. In haste, you throw the cover across the small room, fishing for what used to be a very good friend of yours before: Lovecorner’s limited edition of Real Feel 7. Never too late to catch up with good ol’ friends.

You turn on the device, hoping that there’s enough battery left to get you through the night. Closing your eyes, you circle the dildo around your nether lips, gathering all the slick there. A few more moments and you gradually insert the toy inside you, causing you to shiver in excitement. Gulping, you only push it halfway through at first, wanting to get used to the feeling again..

There’s a short pause from the other side of the wall, one you use to your advantage to keep up. When you feel them continue, you pick up your pace, both desperation and shame pumping you up so you could get this night over with as quickly as possible.

Just as you had expected, you feel their breathing get heavier by the second, and your bed is practically shaking with...what you presume to be yours and their movements combined.

For some reason beyond your understanding, you work yourself out on your trusty companion, taking in every whimper and grunt from the other side of the wall like it’s your own, like you’re the one fucking like there is no tomorrow.

You’re getting closer to your high - a feeling almost foreign to you at this point, and with the last string of sheer will, you push the toy further up to the hilt, stroking your g-spot so perfectly that your orgasm has got you quivering in bed for more than thirty seconds.

Breathless as ever, you lie in bed, staring straight into the ceiling.

What. Was. That. All. About.

You press your thighs together, an unexpected reaction from the reality of tonight’s events suddenly dawning in on you. You did not just get yourself off from your neighbor's live porn.

With no more movement coming from Ayoung’s apartment, you could only assume that their day has officially concluded as well. Sighing, you make your way to your bathroom, treading over your floor as lightly as you could with your sore legs.

Ten minutes and a refreshing half bath later, you head back to bed, exhaustion causing you to fall asleep in seconds.

The sound of your jarring iPhone alarm blares right in your ear, scaring the living hell out of you exactly 6:45 in the morning. You wake up in a fright, panting heavily as you scramble to turn off the horrible sound.

Quickly, you get off of your bed, proceeding with your daily morning routine. You tick off breakfast at home today, having scheduled your morning meal with Jimin and Soomin as your first official day as employees of Woocheon Medical City.

Making sure you’ve got everything in your duffel bag - extra clothes, toiletries, and the rest of your essentials, you lock the door to your apartment, sealing it off with a slight jiggle to the knob to assure yourself.

Ayoung’s door likewise creaks open, and you glance at it through your peripheral vision to see a man coming out. Your eyes widen - he stayed the night then. Hm. You’re unsure if you want to suspect him of something other than a one night stand, or it’s just this curious itch inside you that makes you want to check who’s responsible for last night’s...occurrences.

Mustering all that courageous chi Chohee has hopefully transferred onto you, you linger a little bit by your doorway before facing the man. Thankfully, the stranger doesn’t make your job difficult for you and looks your way as well.

No.

This can’t be.

Turns out, Mr. Stranger who was supposed to be your hot neighbor as Ayoung claims is no stranger at all.

It had to be.

You look away just as quickly as you looked at him. “________? Hey! I didn’t know you lived next door!” Your lips form a thin line. Why does he make it sound like you’re already neighbors?

“Jungkook,” you nod to answer his question. “Good morning to you too.”

Your cheeks heat up with the range of emotions you’re feeling: anger - from him not even remembering Ayoung’s name; shame - for your actions last night; disappointment - there’s a possibility of you two becoming neighbors and you’d inevitably have to face him more often than not.

“Where are you off to? Gym?”

Why does he think you’re going to gym in a collared shirt, jeans, and flats? And more importantly, why are you two even having this conversation?

The elevator doors open and your impromptu escape plan springs into action, and currently, just like your legs. “Work actually! And I’m going to be late, so bye for now!” You sprint towards the elevator, quickly pressing a button to close the doors.

You let out a sigh of relief as the doors close, leaving Jungkook with a confused look on his face.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

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Pull | Tup x Reader

I just realized I hit 200 followers, thank y'all so much!! My writer's block continues but luckily I have a few fics stored up from ages ago, like this one. Enjoy and thank you for 200!! 🥰😘

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (m & f receiving), masturbation, hair pulling, cockwarming, fluff

•••

He was exhausted, everyone was. Tup was especially exhausted after being punched in the gut by an unarmed clanker. He just wanted to shower and sleep, and see you. He'd been planet-side for weeks, but now that the campaign was over they were allowed to head back to the Resolute.

Tup was lucky his feet were able to carry him back to your room. You weren't there so he assumed you were working the late shift again. He collapsed into a chair for a moment, resting until he felt like he had enough energy to stand in the shower for half an hour. He took off as much of his armor as he could while still sitting down before having to stand and remove the rest.

He had just entered the refresher when he heard the main door open. He poked his head out and saw you walk in, looking just as exhausted as him. You peeled off your bloody medic coat and tossed it into a bin to be washed, or discarded.

“Hey,” he said with a small smile. You turned to look at him. “Hey, Tup. When did you get back?”

“A couple hours ago,” he answered, “I was about to have a shower, do you want to join me?”

“Kriff yes,” you accepted. You stepped into the refresher with him and began shedding your layers of clothing. Tup turned on the water and removed the top of his blacks while he was waiting for the water to warm up. “Rough day?” He asked. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Was the campaign that tough or was Skywalker being particularly reckless this time?” You replied. Tup checked the water a last time and stripped out of his blacks completely. “It was a little of both,” he told you.

Tup watched as you took the last of your clothes off and stepped into the shower, pulling him in after you. “What about you, baby? You’re not hurt are you? I’m glad you weren’t in the medbay,” you said, hugging him from behind. You rested your head against his warm back, feeling the water run over your arms as it cascaded down his front.

“Just a metal fist to my stomach, I’ll be fine,” he said. You removed your arms, “sorry.” He assured you he was fine again and you started massaging his back. You ran your hands over his tan skin, gently pressing your thumbs into his shoulders. That’s when you noticed his hair was still up. It was messy, tangled, and dirty but still held into a bun. You laughed at the fact that his hair was able to hold up better than yours.

“Tup, honey, your hair is a mess. Let me wash it for you, I know you love when I play with your hair,” you said. You reached up and took his hair out letting it fall over his shoulders. You made sure to get it completely wet before working on it further.

You were right, Tup did love when you played with his hair, a little too much. His scalp was more sensitive than his brothers and it felt like heaven whenever you played with or tugged on his hair. Tup didn’t exactly have the energy for sex right now and he knew you didn’t either. He would just have to try and not let it affect him like it usually did. He tried to preoccupy himself by lathering his chest and arms with soap.

You worked your fingers through his hair, starting at his scalp and running your fingers through the length of his dark wavy hair. Most of it was fine but occasionally your fingers would get caught on a knot or a tangle and pull his hair a little bit. You apologized every time, knowing he probably didn't want you yanking his head around right now.

Tup on the other hand was having a difficult time keeping quiet. Every time your fingers got stuck and pulled, he had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning or whimpering. He looked down a little and found himself rock hard from your ministrations. He cursed himself in his mind, you were just trying to do him a favor, why did it have to turn him on?

You got his hair untangled and squirted some shampoo into your hand before beginning to massage his head. Tup's eyes nearly rolled back into his head and he bit down on part of his hand, trying not to make any noise. He didn't want you to feel obligated to please him just because he was aroused. You were tired and you probably wanted to go to bed, not exhaust yourself even more by trying to get him off.

An idea popped into his head. Since you were behind him and had no view of his front, or the effect you were currently having on him, he might be able to fix this. If he could quietly jerk himself off without you knowing, you could both just go to bed once you were done showering.

Tup took his other hand, still covered in soap, and brought it to his throbbing length. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep quiet. He slowly stroked up and down his cock, now trying to keep his breathing normal. Your nails dragged against his scalp and his knees nearly buckled. The hand on his cock now speeding up, long drags had turned into quick tugs. It felt so damn good. The combination of your fingers working through and pulling his hair and the simulation to his cock was getting him close very fast.

Tup had been sure he was being quiet and trying to breathe steady, but what he hadn't accounted for was the growing tension in his muscles as he got closer to his release. You had noticed he was growing stiff and almost starting to shake. It confused you and you slowed your hands to a stop, letting the water rinse out the soap in his hair.

"Babe, are you ok?" You asked. He didn't reply, just let out a shaky breath. You placed your hands on his waist. "Tup," you called again, "sweetheart, what's wrong?" You nudged his sides trying to get him to turn around and face you but he didn't move. You decided to move around him since he wasn't going to, and that's when you saw his situation.

He was biting down hard on the skin between his thumb and index finger while his other hand had stopped moving on his dick and was now squeezing the base. He let out a breath and looked at you. "I'm sorry, baby. I couldn't help it," he said, looking away in embarrassment. "I thought I could....without you noticing, but.."

You cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at you. "It's alright, hun, I should've known better," you said. "Now let me take care of it for you." Tup looked worried and grabbed your hands in his before you could touch him. "No! That's exactly why I was doing it myself. You're exhausted and need rest, I don't want you to feel obligated to please me whenever I get a hard on," he rambled. "It'll go away, I'll be fine."

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Yeah, right. Tup just let me-"

"No!" He persisted, "you've spent all day taking care of my brothers, you need time to relax." You wiggled your hands out of his grasp and placed them on his cheeks again. "Yes, and now I want to spend my time taking care of my favorite boy," you said, your expression loving. Tup still looked a little embarrassed. "But you-"

"Tup, did it ever occur to you that I might enjoy sucking you off? That I do it because I enjoy it too?" You saw his eyes move around as he considered your words, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. "I like making you feel good, Tup, it makes me feel good too. Now will you let me touch you?" His shoulders sagged in defeat and he looked at the shower floor again. You reached out and took him in your hand, making him hiss. You walked him back so he was leaning his back against the shower wall. You whispered a 'please' and he slowly nodded.

With his permission, you sank to your knees and licked a teasing stripe from base to tip. You swirled your tongue around his sensitive tip before closing your lips around it. Tup couldn't hold back the moan that flew past his lips, throwing his head back against the tiled wall. You slowly took him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. You held there for a moment until you heard him whimper above you and you started bobbing your head. You used your hands on what you couldn't fit in your mouth, you felt a hand come to rest at the back of your head. He didn't apply any pressure, he just needed something to ground him.

He was rapidly approaching his high, having been so close already. His moans bounced around the room, the sound music to your ears. You knew he was close and you sucked harder, beginning to gently massage his balls with your other hand. He moaned out your name, his fingers digging into your hair. Your mouth was driving him crazy and your tongue hit every spot that made him twitch in your mouth. You knew just how to work him into a whimpering mess with your velvet mouth.

You sucked hard before pulling off of him and standing up. You kept working him closer with one hand while worming the other into his hair, scraping your nails along his scalp. A high pitched moan escaped his throat and he grabbed onto your arm. "I know you're close, baby. Does that feel good?" You cooed. Tup bit his lip, whimpering and cursing under his breath. "Y-yes, feels incredible," he breathed.

Your hand sped up, jerking him furiously. "C'mon, Tup," you urged. "Be a good boy and cum for me." You finished your words with a sharp tug on his hair. Tup shouted out as he came, spilling his seed on your stomach and his. You worked him through his orgasm, letting the water wash away his release. The tension was gone from his body and he looked more relaxed. You reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Will you let me return the favor?" You sighed. "You need to learn to be a little selfish, baby," you said.

You both finished washing up and turned off the shower. You dried off and Tup let you brush his hair and dry it as best you could. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug before looking down at you affectionately.

"Can I please return the favor now?" He asked. You forwent clothes and walked into the bedroom naked. "Babe, you injured your stomach. I don't want you laying on it just for me," you told him. Tup followed you into the bedroom, grabbing your shoulder and turning you to face him. "Then how about you ride my face? I enjoy making you feel good too," he said, smirking fondly. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You know I love the way you taste."

You felt yourself grow wet at his words. You sighed again, he was so sweet, how could you deny him? Besides, fair is fair. "Alright, I suppose," you gave in.

Tup laid back on the bed and got comfortable before motioning you towards him. You climbed on the bed and straddled his chest. He put his arms under your thighs and around your back, urging you forward towards his mouth. "Are you sure, baby? You're already tired and I don't want to suffocate you," you whined. "I'm never too tired to love you," Tup smiled. He nudged you up more, nearly getting you into position. "C'mon, love. Lemme taste," he begged sweetly. There was something about the way he said it that made you give in. You moved over his face but couldn't make eye contact with him, or lower yourself onto his mouth.

Tup exhaled, the warm air fanning over your rapidly moistening center. He parted your folds with one hand, lightly blowing, causing you to shudder. He lifted his head and licked a quick stripe up your slit. You squeaked in surprise and pleasure, chancing a look down at him. He smiled warmly at you and slowly pulled you down. "Just enjoy it, I'm gonna make you feel good."

Your cunt finally rested on his mouth and he immediately got to work, ripping moans from you as he devoured your pussy. One look at Tup might make you think he was innocent and inexperienced, but Maker the things he could do with that mouth. You dug your fingers into his hair and he moaned, sending pleasant vibrations through you. You felt his hips buck into the air as he got worked up again.

You tried to resist grinding into his face as he ate you out. His tongue expertly playing with your clit, flicking over it and sucking on it. In between which he would stick it into you and wiggle it around, tasting every delicious inch he could reach. You kept a firm grip on his hair, pulling when he hit a specifically good spot.

“Tup,” you moaned out, grabbing the headboard. You knew without a doubt he was hard again. You took your hand off the headboard and slid it down his body, intent on pleasing him too. He was having none of it. He wrapped his lips around your bud and sucked hard, making you scream and grab the headboard again.

You could feel him chuckle into your folds and you looked down at him, seeing the innocent look in his eyes. That look combined with him sliding two fingers into you and abusing your clit with his tongue, sent you over the edge. You pulled harshly on his hair and your mouth flew open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Tup slurped up the juices that spilled from within you, gently cleaning you up as you came down from your high.

Once you got your senses back, you looked behind you. Sure enough, Tup was hard again. “Baby, now look what happened,” you pouted with a smile. He smiled back at you and helped you lay down next to him. “Actually, can I try something I’ve wanted to do for a while?” He asked. You rolled over to face him, pulling the sheets up over the both of you. "What's that, love?" You asked, clearly even more tired than before. Tup blushed and nervously played with a ringlet of his hair. "C-can I - I want, uh, I want to fall asleep inside of you," he stuttered out.

You were somewhat taken aback, but you were glad he told you, it showed he was getting comfortable sharing his sexual wants and fantasies with you. You smiled groggily at him. "That sounds like heaven," you replied.

You rolled to face away from him, looking over your shoulder with an enticing yet exhausted expression. Tup scooted closer to you so his front was pressed tight to your back. He helped you lift your leg up and you felt his cock slip in between your thighs. You let him hold your leg while you lined him up, pushing the head of his cock inside. Tup let out a shaky breath and slowly eased himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. He lowered your leg back down and groaned deeply at how tight you got. You hummed contently at the feeling of him nestled snug and deep within you. Tup wrapped an arm around your middle to keep you close. You felt like paradise around him, your walls silky and warm. It was oddly comforting, a feeling of closeness and possession that went beyond the act of passion itself.

"Goodnight, my love," you whispered, placing your arm on top of his. He placed a kiss to your shoulder blade, "Goodnight, cyare. Sleep well."

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper tup #tup x reader

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azucanela · 3 years

Text

chapter iii

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: cursing. mentions of violence. mild violence.

word count: 2k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

series masterlist

MAYBE SHE WAS OVERCOMPENSATING, but at least overall productivity of the agency was up. If Y/N was honest, throwing herself into her work probably wasn’t her best idea, in fact one might consider it self destructive. But.. she was frustrated. And the pent of emotions of not only herself but those around her had to go somewhere.

And what better place to put that energy than her work?

Of course, as she slams a villain into the wall of concrete before bringing their hands together and handcuffing them, all Y/N feels is boredom. Dissatisfied, unfulfilled. Although it had taken her a while to separate her own emotions from that of others when she was younger, it doesn’t take much effort to determine that those feelings are entirely her own.

In a job like hers, boredom was something to be grateful for, something to welcome with open arms all things considered. And busy season would be coming up for heroes, so Y/N probably should be grateful for the lack of activity. And yet… The calm before the storm was always rather unnerving.

Y/N can hear the sirens of the police, brows furrowing as she sighs. Dragging the man she had just apprehended along with her despite his grunts of protest. Y/N watches as a police car pulls around by the entrance of the alley she’d cornered him in.

He was just a petty thief, but Y/N had been trying to keep out of the spotlight for the time being, unless her assistance was warranted. And thus far, it hadn’t been.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N watches as an officer exits the car, a smile coming across their face as they see her. “Hey Empatha!” They wave, and Y/N can’t help but offer a small smile and wave of her own back as she hands the criminal over to them.

“Hi, everything alright at the precinct?” It’s meant to be a polite, simple question, but Y/N can practically— literally— feel the way the officer lights up at the question. As though they’d been meaning to bring it up. Y/N had interacted with most of the Police Department briefly, so they weren’t entirely unfamiliar but… that didn’t mean Y/N wanted to stick around for long.

They shrug, pushing the thief into the back of the car despite his protests and shutting the door on him. “We had some plumbing troubles earlier— or something like that I don’t know… but yeah. Everything has been good. Kinda.”

Unsureness is bleeding into their tone, so Y/N raises a brow as she finds herself asking, “something on your mind?”

The officer offers Y/N a sheepish smile, “we could really use your help on one of our cases, the Stain Copycat, I assume you’ve heard?”

Nodding slowly, Y/N finds herself wanting to exit this conversation, and soon, “I can look into sending someone from the Agency but it’s Hawks’ choice.” She looks around with a frown, “I have a feeling the press will be here soon so I should get going, but I’ll be in contact.” She says with a smile, taking a step back before disappearing into the shadows.

Telen’s ability. Y/N borrowed it frequently, and from the soreness of her body, Y/N had a feeling that they’d had quite the day as well. He was capable of teleporting through shadows, light was a major inhibitor but it was an incredibly useful ability and had saved her life a countless number of times. Whether that was literally or from… conversations like that one.

Y/N had been avoiding Endeavor’s agency since far too many of her old classmates were sidekicks there. As much as she wanted to help, her presence wasn’t necessary. And she had heard about the Stain Copycat case, the one who had yet to be caught, the exception. Hawks had mentioned it during one of their calls recently, so technically she wasn’t lying when she said someone would be sent over to help.

Just not her. Anyone but her.

With a sigh, Y/N finally appears in the locker room of the agency. Welcoming the smell of blood, sweat, and probably tears.

It had been a long day, and Y/N quickly decided there was no better way to amend that than with coffee. She’s changing into her civilian clothes— having ended her shift at the agency for the day— inside the locker room dedicated to such things. Patrol had been mostly quiet today, which she was grateful for, but that didn’t make her any less suspicious as to why things had been so quiet.

Y/N makes her way out of the locker room once she’s changed, and through the agency, offering a smile to Telen as she finally steps out of the agency doors. “You alright today? I can feel the soreness.” She says, walking backwards as she speaks to him, while he holds the door open for the both of them.

Telen offers her a smile, “yes. It appears I took quite the hit.” He brings a hand to the back of his neck, “not the best day.”

Y/N raises a brow, “wanna come with me? I’m gonna get a drink, maybe something to eat at the café a few blocks from here.” She’d always enjoyed Telen’s presence, he was calm, quiet, but good company nonetheless. Someone who listened, but could certainly maintain a conversation. They’d been working together for a few years now and Y/N had grown to like him. That and she would be returning later regardless seeing as Lorelai had requested a coffee herself.

Telen shakes his head, “I still have one more patrol, but if I happen to come around there, I might stop by.”

She nods, raising her hand to wave to him as one final goodbye before turning on her heel, and almost instantly a rush of wind is hitting her, though she finds it refreshing as she stares to the sky, a grey color, clouds shielding the sun from view.

It’s a nice day, she decides, looking to her left. Hawks had placed his agency rather strategically, and by strategically, that meant nearby a café she had been going to for longer than she could remember. Y/N was close friends with the owner now, and many of the employees there. So her presence wasn’t anything astonishing, though Y/N had offered time and time again to advertise their business, they’d always declined. The owner had insisted it was nice being a small business, rather than one swarming with customers.

Y/N had made the shop her safe space, most of the time, those who recognized her seemed to understand her desire to be left alone. And it was relieving, to be normal for a moment. Not to say that she was special or anything, but life as a hero was… an overwhelming one. She’d been lucky to evade the press earlier.

It doesn’t take long to arrive, a short walk is all it takes before Y/N is opening the door to enter the small shop. Almost instantly, she’s greeted with a bag of chips to the face, having been thrown by a grinning Lily, one of the longtime employees that Y/N had known for years now. “Hey superstar.”

In response Y/N groans, moving to cover her face in the scarf she’d worn and bury her face inside it, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “Shut up, Lily.” Her eyes drift around, “where’s everyone else?”

Lily shrugs, already moving to make Y/N’s usual as she replies, “we’re a bit short staffed today.” She looks to Y/N, “we haven’t seen you in a while. Been too busy for us, have you?” Her words are teasing, but Y/N finds herself feeling bad for not visiting more often. Her schedules become more busy as the time for announcing the top heroes draws near, more meetings, more events, more press conferences. And with her little scandal with Bakugou, she would likely have to give up even more of her time.

“Never.” Y/N finally replies, moving to stand at the counter and placing her bag of chips there. Y/N pulls out her wallet.

Lily waves her off, “on the house.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I make a ridiculous amount of money, let me spend it.” She says, pulling out a few $20 bills, though Lily simply looks to her pointedly. This only encourages Y/N, causing her to keep eye contact with her as she drops all of the bills into the tip jar. “Split it with the rest of the staff.”

It's true, Y/N’s salary was… more than enough. Hawks had never been frugal with his money, his employees were well off and she was grateful for it but at this point she had more money than she knew what to do with. She was no Number 2 Hero but her bank account spoke for itself.

Despite this, Lily glares in response, before sliding a drink over to Y/N. “Regardless, how have you been, aside from getting black out drunk at a very important Gala and then proceeding to talk shit about—”

“I doubt she wants to talk about that Lily,” The bell by the door rings, signaling that someone has arrived, and of course, there stands Rosalyn, another one of the employees. Her hair is greying now, but she still bares the same smile and calming persona that she did when Y/N first met her. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was bad.”

Y/N is grinning as she walks over to Rosalyn, throwing her arms around her as the pair hugs, “good to see you Ros.” Lily pretends to roll her eyes at the sigh of physical affection, though she smiles at the sight of the reunion, before heading through the door behind the counter.

When they pull away, Rosalyn pats Y/N’s head with a smile, “and you! It’s been a while, look how you’ve grown.”

Y/N’s brows furrow as a small laugh escapes her, “I doubt I’ve grown any.” If she’s honest, Rosalyn and Lily hadn’t changed at all. Y/N wondered if they viewed her the same as they used to after all these years as well. And maybe she was scared of the answer, and that’s why she never asked. She could see it, Y/N doesn’t necessarily know or remember when, but she can recall the first time she noticed that they looked at her differently.

Things had changed at one point, and maybe Y/N’s visit to the coffee shop was just her attempt at holding onto the past. A past where she was happier, where things were simpler.

Moving to remove her jacket, Rosalyn shrugs, “perhaps I’ve shrunk. Happens with old age I suppose.” The woman heads over to the small entrance that leads to behind the counter, which also happens to have a door to the backroom. “I’ll be back shortly,” she says. Offering Y/N a smile that she quickly returns before heading into the backroom.

Y/N nods, taking the chips and her drink to one of many tables by the window and placing them down there to save her spot— though the shop is currently empty, she has no doubt that the busier hours will start soon. Regardless, Y/N comes to a stand to move to the display window filled with different pastries. Their new selection is certainly interesting, the sight makes her miss baking. Not that she has the time nowadays.

With a sigh, Y/N straightens her posture, when the bell rings, indicating that someone has entered. Turning Around. Y/N’s eyes widen as her mouth gapes open due to the sight of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.

note: shorter chapter but i hope it was worth it hehehehehehe

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neptunesnxpple · 4 years

Text

Undercover Lover 1/2? - Benimaru x m!reader

Summary: Benimaru infiltrates a singles night to find an undercover Evangelist member intent on taking down Asakusa. Will he find something else instead?

Wordcount: 2138

Tags: misunderstandings, beginnings, m!reader, singles night

A/N: 18+ only. Do not read or interact if you are a minor. Thank you.

“I don’t see why I have to be dressed up for this,” Benimaru complained. The twins adjusted the sleeves of his black kimono, patting at his black and white striped hakama.

“It’s an undercover mission,” Hinata started,

“Yeah you’re going to kill it on the dance floor, and then kill the infiltrator,” Hikage added.

“An undercover mission at some get together hardly suits me. Konro is much more fitted for this.” He mused. Ever since the Asakusa fight he’d started the heavy battle of accepting his role. Even harder was coming to terms with the amount of trust the community put on him. Now he’d have to hide who he was for that community. He walked out of the captain’s quarters into the main area, team 7 and 8 were on standby, hovering by computers with headsets dispersed among the higher-ranking members. Konro passed Benimaru an earpiece while Iris fit a small camera on one of his chest pieces.

“Remember, we’re counting on you.” Konro clasped a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. He doubted he could hold up to it.

—

The venue was lined with hydrangeas, blue and purple, situated on the water’s edge and decorated with warm, glowing lights. By all accounts it was beautiful. People were trickling in, dressed in semi formal attire, mostly around a similar age range. Benimaru kept a watchful eye, making a mental note of anyone that stood out. Unfortunately, he recognized most of them as locals. At least he could rule those out and focus on the out of towners.

‘You have to go in at some point’ his earpiece buzzed,

“Relax I’m just gathering intel,” he muttered. Reluctantly he made his way to the door. The inside was just as carefully decorated. Hanging paper sculptures, soft lighting, and many small tables set up. He wasn’t sure the specifics of this event, but he didn’t think it’d matter. He tried to fade into the wall when an event organizer cornered him, smiling with a name tag and clip board in hand.

“All guests are required to sign in and wear a name tag,” they chirped, “if I could just get your name and email address,” Benimaru groaned. This was already more trouble than it was worth as far as he was concerned.

“Benimaru,” he stated, taking the clipboard, and scribbling that down as well as a fake email address. He took the name tag and slapped it on blindly. It didn’t matter where it went. The event staffer took back the clipboard.

“Alright take a seat and we’ll start in 10.”

Benimaru picked a seat on the far side, watching as the other guests filled in.

“First we’d like to welcome you all to singles night. We’ve prepared refreshments and a light dinner spread. Check the letter on the back of your card, we’ll start with group A staying where they are and if you’re in group B you’ll be moving in a clockwise fashion. Then there will be a brief intermission while-”

Benimaru couldn’t listen anymore. A singles night was the perfect cover for an evangelist looking to recruit a younger population. He’d have to be on his guard. He checked the back of his card. Group A. So, he’d be in wait and the potential enemies would be coming to him. This gave him the advantage. He sat back, hand twitching at the ready under the table. Time ticked slowly. The locals didn’t mind too much, he wasn’t much for frivolous conversation when he had a goal in mind and maintained the appropriate level of conversation. Those that came from out of town he was less forgiving to.

“You decided to come to Asakusa for this?” He accused, causing the current victim to recoil at the animosity in his voice, “This seems like something you could have done back in your town. What’s the real reason for you visit?” Not long after the timer beeped and the insulted date would leave him, the next one going along just as well. None of these singles looked too suspicious, although they were irritable by the time they left.

“Benimaru? Nice to meet you,” you introduced yourself, smiling warmly. He was an interesting looking fellow, the mismatched eyes were something you hadn’t seen before. He raised an eyebrow at you, arms crossed over his chest.

“And what brings you here?” His fingertips warmed. You laughed nervously. It was a cliché opening, but the way he looked you was enough for you to overlook it. Intense.

“Well I’m new to the area, I just moved in a couple of weeks ago, and thought it would be a great opportunity to meet some of the other people around my age,” you explained, “plus if I could meet someone special that’s a bonus. Why’d you decide to come here tonight?” Careful eyes scanned you from top to bottom, and you were glad you put the extra effort in your clothing choices. Benimaru struggled to come up with a reason besides blatantly saying what he was looking for, when a voice in his ear spoke up,

‘Say you’re trying to find the right one’. He could hear the exasperation on the other side. This whole time they’d been coaching him, and he’d been having some less than desirable results. This was close enough to the truth that he could allow it.

“I’m trying to find that special someone.” Yes, special. And the guy in front of him was hitting all the boxes. Out of towner, recently moved here. Laughing at his initial investigative question. This guy was good. He took a cool sip from the glass in front of him, “what made you move all this way?”

“I got a new job and thought it would be a fun change of pace. I like the unique energy. Are you from Asakusa?”

“Born and raised. Now this job you were talking about-”

“Yes, I’m a bit of a bug specialist, an educator,” you answered quickly, feeling flustered as you watched his eyes narrow. The heat pooling in your chest began to work its way up your neck. You were starting to feel a bit intimidated, not in a bad way though, and kicked yourself for answering so eagerly. This felt like an interview almost. You scrambled to turn this back into a conversation, “What do you do? Um, for fun or as a job.” Nailed it. You gave yourself a mental thumbs up.

“I’m a busy guy, I don’t have much time for trivial matters. I suppose you could say I’m a bit of a community leader.” He watched as you fidgeted, not with the same amount of distaste as the others had. Something was different here.

“Oh, I guess I’m lucky then-” before you finished the timer set off. As you stood up and turned to leave, a hand grabbed your wrist.

“Welcome to Asakusa.”

When the break came you made a beeline for the entrance, walking around the side of the building and welcoming the cold air. For the most part everyone had seemed friendly. Things were a lot different from where you were from, and while it was exciting you were constantly aware that you’d sometimes say the wrong thing or share too much too fast. Still, being a gay guy in Asakusa you didn’t expect so many options. It made you wonder how many others there were that didn’t come. You rested against the wall, closing your eyes, and taking a deep beath. You listened to the quiet movement of the river nearby. You didn’t notice the person rounding the corner until two hands slammed into the wall surrounding your head, a large body blocking your view of the river. It was dark on this side. You struggled to make out anything until you looked up. Glowing pink eyes loomed down at you, stripping you away of any nerve that you could scrape off the pavement, an unsmiling face greeting you. It was Benimaru.

‘Benimaru what are you doing- it’s dark!’ A high-pitched voice shouted.

“I know it’s you,” Benimaru sneered, voice rough and gravelly, “I know what you’re really here for.” You swallowed dryly, unable to look away and frozen in place. You were entirely at his mercy here. At least you were reading his interests correctly. You licked your lips.

‘Benimaru wait that’s not-’

“I’m going to make you pay,” You felt the warmth radiating from his hands, intoxicatingly so. He must be a third gen user if he was this warm. He reached back and you grabbed the fronts of his jacket, taking a step forward and kissing him. You felt him stiffen to your touch and you immediately removed your mouth from his, eyes wide and the only thought crossing your mind being ‘oh shit’- had you misinterpreted his advances earlier? You opened your mouth to apologize, but instead got the wind knocked out of you as he lifted you off the ground and slammed you back into the wall harder than you’d have liked. His hand began to glow bright orange as it bubbled with flame, preparing to strike.

“Benimaru! Hold it!” A deep voice shouted. Quicker than you could process- something, or someone, slid by you, fire on their heels, and knocked into Benimaru. You fell to the ground, stunned.

“Benimaru! There was no mission, this was just a date night!” A younger voice shouted. The moonlight reflected off of the brightly striped fire equipment, only furthering your confusion. Why were fire soldiers here? And how did they know where you were?

“Back off, I know he’s the infiltrator. I’ll end this right now,” Benimarus’ flame returned to his hand, this time larger than before and brighter. It illuminated enough for you to see a cast of other fire soldiers running up on the scene. What the hell?

“It’s true, we just thought you could use the night off, and maybe meet someone outside of work!” A woman yelled. As if things could make any less sense, two young girls came bounding in at full speed, slapping at Benimarus’ legs.

“Yeah dummy! What are you doing? You’re going to ruin all the work that Hina and I put in for this!”

“Stupid! You’re never going to get a man if you keep blowing holes in them!”

This was all just too much to take in. You stared vacantly at the pavement, trying to trace the steps of how you got here. Benimaru lowered his hand, flames withering.

“It was all just… a fake mission?” He repeated, sounding lost. He looked at you, crumpled on the ground and thoroughly ruffled from the way he manhandled you. Guilt sucked out all of the rage he was feeling. Here he was attacking the newest citizen of Asakusa, just for being new. He rewound through the night. He had just interrogated at least 20 innocent people. The flame melted away completely. With the twins still yelling at him and giving him a much-deserved waist high beating, he made his way over to you. At this point Maki from squad 8 had been tending to you, checking you for injuries. When he approached you gazed up at him wildly, like some innocent animal caught in the crosshair of a hunter. Maki gave him a skeptical look.

“You should be fine, just a little bruised if anything. Call this number if there’s anything else we can do for you,” she handed you a card and tentatively made her exit.

“Sorry, I thought you were flirting but I guess you were just looking for um, someone undercover? An evangelist infiltrator? Anyway, I’m sorry for kissing you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, and exposing the lesser seen eye further, “it was my fault. I jumped to conclusions. You were just new, and I assumed that you had bad intentions.” You nodded, unsure of what else could be added. After some uncomfortable silence, you heard another sigh. Benimaru dropped his hand, looking away from you, “because you’re new and because of the situation, I would like to offer you a personal tour of Asakusa. I know this town better than anyone and would like the chance to make it up to you.” You gave him a scrutinizing look, pleased when you watched him squirm under your gaze. Good, he should be on his toes. A satisfactory amount of time later, you gave him a timid smile,

“Sure.”

“Waka, we’re heading back to the station,” Konro shouted. Benimaru gave a slight wave and returned his gaze to you.

“Do you need me to walk you back inside, or…” he trailed off.

“I don’t think I’ll be going back,” you started. A displeased expression filled his face, “but, you can walk me home.”

Like what you read? Comments and reblogs fuel me to write more!

Also, my birthday is coming up on March 13th so if you’re willing, donate to my K*-fi so I can get a cake

#benimaru shinmon x reader #benimaru x reader #shinmon benimaru x reader #benimaru shinmon #fire force x reader

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infernal-fire · 4 years

Text

I Can Save Everyone But Myself (1/3)

Warnings: fluff, angst, strong language, set post-Endgame (has Endgame/ Civil War spoilers and possibly stuff before that)

Please do not interact with this blog if you are under the age of 18. Your media consumption is your responsibility.

Pairing(s): Bucky x reader

Summary: Fighting the bad guys comes easy to James Buchanan Barnes. What will end him, is the fight against his will to be with you.

Word Count: 1400

A/N: there’s some sad boi barnes up ahead :’)

Song to listen to when you’re reading: Cold Water by Major Lazer ft. Justin Bieber

(This GIF does not belong to me)

*Blocks of text that are italicized indicate events from the past.

How did it get to this?

This was unlike Bucky. You sat on the couch while he sat on the floor, your legs on either side of him. But that wasn’t what was weird. You were touching him. Playing with his hair. No one has touched Bucky like this, let alone played with his hair. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Should I allow it?

He subtly looked at Sam who shot him a warning glare as if he read his mind. He shouldn’t flinch from loving touch but he couldn’t help it. He went back to the question of how did it get to this. He knows how it got to this.

7 months ago

Bucky looked around, then looked at the ground, unsure of what to do. He didn’t feel like Tony would have wanted him to be there anyway. Sam knowingly looked at him before patting his back. He should feel something other than shame, but it was the only thing he felt.

After the funeral, Steve was putting back the stones. Part of him knew that his best friend wouldn’t be coming back when he hugged him the way he did.

It’s okay. He deserves a life too, Bucky told himself.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for the aged Steve that stood before him. They were supposed to grow old together.

A sense of relief passed through Bucky when he handed the shield to Sam; the last thing he wanted was to be responsible for Captain America’s shield.

After that, the Sokovia Accords were long forgotten, finally allowing for Bucky to live as a free man. Sam insisted that he move into his apartment downtown. That way, he wouldn’t be physically alone all the time.

There wasn’t much to move into the apartment - he has no real possessions anyway. Even so, Sam invited a friend to “help unpack”.

Y/N signed the Accords and sided with Tony. That’s why he had never met you before.

“I remember you! You almost knocked my teeth out at the airport,” you joked as you entered the apartment. He was slightly taken aback by your lighthearted teasing - he was so used to being treated like the enemy.

It was refreshing for Bucky to be around Sam and your playful banter.

“How are you affording this place Sammy, you aren’t even working” Y/N nagged.

“It’s courtesy of the Avengers protocol Tony left behind. You’re right though, my bank account is as dry as your elbows.”

Sam didn’t notice it but Bucky saw that your face fell just a little when Tony’s name was mentioned. It was only for a split second and he would’ve missed it if he had blinked.

“How hypocritical of you to say my elbows are ashy when I can see scratches on you from a mile away” you shot back. Bucky silently laughed to himself.

That day was fun. It was mostly spent putting his clothes away and organizing his room while you and Sam sat on his bed arguing about who Redwing likes better. When you all sat down to watch a movie, he noticed how you sat in between the large space between him and Sam. You looked like you contemplated who to lean on before you leaned to Sam. It would’ve been weird to lean on him since you just met him, he reasoned. Why was he even wondering why you didn’t lean on him?

Present time

“How do you get your hair to be so soft Buck?” you wondered out loud. For a second he froze up. Only Steve calls him Buck.

“What are you talking about Y/N, it’s always fucking greasy” Sam snorted from the corner of the couch.

“High talk for someone who doesn’t have hair at all” Bucky quipped. The room filled with your laughter and Bucky found himself smiling too. He was beginning to see parts of the old James emerging around you.

His attention shifted back to your fingers stroking through his hair. “I love your hair. You look handsome when you put it in a man-bun,” you added. He smiled again before stopping himself.

What you said shouldn’t make him feel the way it did.

After you left that day, Sam and Bucky stood in the kitchen simply looking at each other while the silence suffocated their thoughts.

“She has feelings for you and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you do too,” Sam stated it like it was a fact and sipped his water.

“You don’t know any better,” Bucky reassured, “she’s too smart to go for someone as fucked up as me.” They stood there for a while before Sam raised one eyebrow and peered at his friend mid-sip. Bucky shook his head and walked away.

3 months ago

As time went by, your presence at the apartment was a given and he found that he looked forward to being around you. It took a lot of visiting before he had a full conversation with you. It was about the latest mission sanctioned by the UN, something you both weren’t looking forward to.

“I can’t believe people even have it in them to create trouble after everything that’s happened” you defeatedly sighed.

“There will always be someone to fight or some war to win, in some corner of the world,” Bucky said, sharing the same defeated tone you used.

“Every time some new buffoon starts a problem, I feel personally attacked. Like they’re disrespecting the sacrifices people have made to save the stupid world.”

Bucky didn’t need to ask to know who you were talking about. He rested a hand on your hand that was clutching the countertop.

You looked down sadly. “I miss him, Buck” you whimpered with a slight crack in your voice. “He would be proud of you, Y/N,” Bucky pulled you in and kissed the top of your head.

That day, you leaned on Bucky instead of Sam. He was pleasantly surprised to feel your head on his shoulder and wanted to lean into it. When the movie ended, Sam began commenting on how stupid it was and stopped himself when he realized you two were knocked out on each other. Your head rested on his lap and Bucky had an arm around you with his legs stretched out on the rest of the L-shaped couch.

Bucky had taken up photography as a hobby. He would take pictures of things that were fascinating to him, things that he never expected to see in this lifetime.

As bad as it sounds, Sam never expected Bucky to sleep so peacefully in this lifetime. It also fascinated him how you, who felt everything, made Bucky feel this way about you. Bucky, who felt nothing.

So he took a picture of the sight in front of him using Bucky’s camera. ‘He can thank me for it later,’ Sam muttered to himself and covered you two with a blanket.

Present time

Bucky wandered into his room with his head still in the clouds. He can’t feel this way about you. You would never feel the same way. Part of his mind reasoned with him; you deserve a life too, it told him. He refused. He doesn’t deserve a good life. Even if he couldn’t remember everyone he killed, which he did, he didn’t deserve love or peace in this lifetime. He would spend the rest of his life beating himself up as penance, if that’s what it meant to commemorate the lives lost to the Winter Soldier.

Bucky didn’t leave room for any other thoughts before he walked into his bathroom and picked up a pair of scissors.

Without a second thought, he began chopping off chunks of his hair while tears streaked his face. He had no goal. He just snipped off whatever he could grab.

He stopped and fell to the floor. Crumpling up into fetal position, he held himself and rocked back and forth while he sniffled.

You’re too broken.

You’re not good enough.

Sam cautiously opened the door and took a few seconds to take in the mess before him. Tears that threatened to spill over were stopped by a determined Sam who walked over and wrapped his arms around Bucky.

“It’s gonna’ be alright man,” he whispered to his quivering friend.

Part 2

Masterlist

Taglist: @brat-in-a-teacup @taintedgenre @pastathighs

Other tags: @mculibrary

#bucky #bucky barnes #winter soldier #fluff #angst #lovestory #mcu #marvel #bucky fic #fic rec #fic #sambucky #falcon #sam wilson #james barnes

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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years

Text

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Another Mother's Breakin'

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

"Jane."

The recruit let the knocking go on for a third round, slowly shaking herself from the rickety cot. While these digs were nothing as fancy as the bunk back at the mall, the privacy was a paradise. Blank, dull, metal-lined walls were a price she was willing to pay over the colorful and plant-lined walls of the barracks. The humming noise of life rebuilding, no she belonged in the silence.

"Jane." This time her name was a statement, backed by a hint of threat.

"Just a moment," she groaned, rubbing the crust from the inner corners of her eyes, pushing sore muscles upright and forcing a shirt over her head but allowing it to fall at its own pace. Her pupils narrowed at the sudden influx of light filling her half of the crate, "morning?"

Helen looked her up and down, that damned frown a returning friend, "you should put a comb through that hair."

"For fuck's sa-"

The woman made a sudden jerk, but it stopped with a simple raising of her arm, brushing aside a fallen lash, "language, dear."

"Sorry," Jane's eyebrows narrowed, had she forgotten she was not a child, "why are you here?"

"Because we are going out."

"Don't I have three more days?" Jane returned.

The older woman in a rare admittance of defeat sighed, offering back a raised eyebrow, "you're well aware that was a ruse."

"I knew it!" she didn't.

"Yes, let's be proud that you are stubborn as they warned," Helen retorted with a hint of a smirk, "but you should be ready. I'm not going to let you slide and get breakfast, either!"

Yes, this encampment was a military installment, but it gave no reason to ready herself with the rest of the soldiers. Since Rahna had given up on her she did little to get out of her bunk. So far, her secret remained, but pushing it by becoming a regular around camp seemed too big of a risk. Evelyn gave her some reason to get out, but the kid quickly found friends. Within days she was no longer needed, though the shit still visited at least once a day that prodded her into some form of semblance. The lack of duties cemented her decision to remain secluded, bidding her time with the running videos in her head.

"So why me?" Jane pressed once they cleared the base by a few thousand meters, pulling the ration bar from her mouth.

The woman's dark eyes turned cross, "and don't you waste those rations."

"You'll never want them again after fresh produce," Jane murmured, swallowing down the bland brick of nutrition in three bites.

"The second reason for coming out here," Helen handed over a pistol, "fresh meat and pest removal."

"You know, someplace on Illium would sell Varren skewers as a delicacy," Jane overlooked the pistol with a grin, "man, could that krogan grill up a mean varren skewer."

"The pistol is back up; you should use biotics. No stunts," she warned without heed of her companion's previous comment.

"I'm a paragon of caution," Jane mumbled in response, deciding then it was best to follow after the woman in silence. Pausing only as her leader stopped.

"No stunts," a finger waggled at her, "that kid and her grandfather want you back, and I intend to see that through, despite your best attempts."

Jane giggled, "the LT would love that one."

"Dismiss it all you like, whinge that someone cares about your sorry hide," the woman spat, "you're being selfish. Everyone is hurting if you haven't noticed."

Jane's face drew blank, "while it's true, doesn't it feel better to be pissed off? To be angry that everything is changed? Fuck everyone else. I'm hurting." She looked over the horizon, directly into the blue beam that connected to the Citadel. It seemed so tiny from here, so insignificant.

Helen's gaze followed Jane's gaze, "trying to remember how much worse it could be rarely helps."

"I like to make myself feel better by telling myself that I'm angering out of grief; it's one of the stages, right? But what is there after it? I don't want to let it go and accept my world is gone," Jane's voice mellowed to a whisper, "acceptance is terrifying. It means you have to move forward."

They shared a silent moment together, connecting with a brief touch—neither alone as they thought.

"Who did you lose?"

"My heart."

"Who did you lose?"

"...my heart."

Horizon- Horizon was an awkward fumbling in the dark. An overhanded display The Illusive Man decided to lord over her. He knew her strings and just how to pluck them to make her dance to his tune. Pulling Kaidan into the entire mess with the Collectors was a threat. But as messy and powerless as the knowledge of what the Illusive Man would take from her was the undercurrent of hope. It was foolish to be caught up in the giddy excitement of returned love, But Kaidan loved her. The first confession and bitter tug on her heart. She should have told him then.

Mars- Mars was just as awkward. Running, sliding, and dodging bullets after months of being cooped up in a small apartment awaiting trial. Sideways glances, and a Major who wouldn't stop dogging her every step. He questioned, prodded, and accused her of terrible things. Granted, she well deserved it. He was so close, so in sync as if the years were mere minutes... yet the distance between them was a canyon wide. But the Major loved her, even if it was once upon a time. A lighthearted exchange broke some of the tension, but she still should have told him then.

The Citadel- "What's up" had to be the lamest greeting after an armed standoff. Not a clasping hug, not a gentle smile, instead she vocalized her worry that he was angry. She hadn't taken the shot at Udina, and she had made Kaidan make that impossible decision. To trust her word, to trust an ex-terrorist. It was too much to ask of anyone- but now she was someone he was in love with. Not a past tense, a was, but a current thing. Still, she fumbled, asking him to let her have it and killing any hope of a romantic reunion. Her stolen glances at his backside caught in the act gave him a sheepish glance away and not the confession he was owed.

The Citadel Pt. II- After a shamelessly little amount of convincing, she had found herself in a dress. It was supposed to be simple- a snack on the Citadel. But she had hoped for more, the flirting, the longing stares, compliments, and a little bit of girlish enthusiasm from Kaidan she dared to think they had a chance. It was the first 'I love you' the extra 'I always have' sending her heart fluttering into erratics that she fought to control, lest she make a scene. The graze of his tender lips against her palm relinquished any grasp she had left on that errant heart, the thundering of the heartbeat clouding her brain. The jealousy the rest of her skin felt for her palm stealing another confession.

2181 Despoina- Kaidan would always rue his attraction to adventurous women. Not the woman, but the spark that drove him there. She was always at risk; her daily amount of adventure qualified as a heroic event for most other citizens of the galaxy. For her, it was a normal Tuesday night. But still, he worried, and still, he continued to love her for the constant stress she brought him. Loved her recklessness because it was as much part of her as her freckles. In the wordless hours of the night, his grip always tighter after a harrowing encounter, she was silent.

The Normandy- Neither of them wanted a quick drink. It was a little silly, after all these years, after all his confessions, to still feel insecure about inviting Kaidan up to her cabin. Instead of being direct, he invented the excuse of a short drink to see her. To comfort each other- when they both knew they needed it. Everything felt so final, the end a ticking bomb, an end to the short time they had together. She found strength in him, a safety in knowing she had someone that would catch her. He loved her openly and proudly. He loved her without needing the words returned.

London- It was unreal, after three years finally approaching the finish line. Loss and love in equal measure. Now, it was time for her to go it alone. It was unnatural, and she fought against the notion. She didn't want to be alone- not at the end. Not after this blissful glimpse into the way love had brightened every facet of her being. Kaidan would gladly face a bitter end with her, going arm in arm to meet Garrus at the bar. But it was a fucked kind of love that pushed her to make him leave. The same love that screamed at him to get the hell off the Normandy, the love that now albeit gently pleaded with him to live. It wasn't a roar or a cry of victory but a rumble- a tender declaration. Kaidan knew, even if it took him repeating his love a thousand times over. Six was a good number, short. The heart knew it was needed.

"So refresh my memory," Jane questioned in a whisper, trying not to draw the entire den of Varren upon them at once, "just how many we are planning on bringing back?"

"Are you that keen on vaporizing them all?"

"I certainly can."

"Wouldn't that defeat one of our goals?"

"Well, I don't think you accounted for the transportation of a Varren," Jane noted, looking behind them at the lack of vessel to transport said game.

Jane was ignored with a huff, the woman peering around a blockade, "I want that one."

Jane took a look, the brown striped specimen had to top the list of heaviest varren she had seen, "seriously?"

"Yes. Jane."

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."

There wasn't time for a seething look or the smarmy reply that would have followed. The creature floated, air-bound as if the weight of the animal defied gravity. It kicked at the air, unable to stop itself from moving toward the barrier that blocked the scent of view of its hunters. Jane yanked her hand forward, dragging against the invisible weight. It felt good, if not for the shred of panic that she might lose time again. The tell-tale sign of blood was not forthcoming.

The blast of sound ricocheting through the plaza quickly overcame any remaining fear.

"Whatever you do, do not approach these things," the recruit barked, yanking the older woman into the corner spot, "they will overwhelm you if they get close."

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."

The pack burst from all corners, running full boar in the direction of their fallen packmate. Several running members fell in the chaos, while a line of biotic energy sent the group careening into nearby walls and structures. For what inexperience was worth, Helen held up well, keeping up trained focus on the beasts. The old lady had precision aim, wasting hardly a clip during the charge. Jane didn't have to pick up much slack. Now, if there were a third member, everything would be peachy.

The square was silent for a count of three before a single varren cried out loudly.

The alpha was on scene.

While she had not promised to keep from committing to a hair-brained stunt, biotic shockwaves and lifts were boring. A teenage biotic could perform these moves without a sweat, a N7 needed a challenge. She needed the thrill. Blue waves coalesced and pulsed around her form, the familiar vibration against her skin pleasurable. A fluid vault over the barrier propelling her charge into the lone Varren, sending it toppling from the blow. Jane dove for it, pummeling it with blasts of biotic energy until her knuckles bled.

This was no longer a stunt but a method of release.

"Seems those biotics are back online," Helen murmured, wiping something from her eyes.

Jane cocked her head, "where'd you learn to shoot?"

"That? Oh. I thought they'd go out like a coyote."

The blonde smirked, dismounting the alpha's corpse, wiping her fists against a clean portion of the animal's hide. Nothing from Tuchanka went down quietly.

Helen stood over her prize, after a long minute she looked at Jane expectantly, "aren't you going to grab that?"

"Your trophy, your struggle," Jane folded her arms in return, a sly grin crossing her face, "besides, by the way we snuck out of that base, I don't need any more blame for this... what would you call this, stunt?"

"We did not sneak-" but the woman's face betrayed her guilt.

"Yeah, it's normal procedure to hop a barricade at the precise moment the guard changed," Jane knew a thing or two about sneaking out. She'd even stolen a ship twice.

Helen didn't have to struggle with the corpse long before Jane took pity on the woman; she had an unfair advantage anyway. Genetic enhancements, bone grafting, and a little biotic lifting. Unfortunately, she would still be sore when they got back to base.

"Why the need to sneak out anyway? I'm sure you could have roped anyone into helping you," Jane was under no illusion that the woman had any particular like for her, if anything, the woman looked at her with increasing scrutiny.

"None of them would dare."

"Oh?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jane understood the sentiment completely.

#fshenko #mass effect fancition #shenko #kaidan alenko #femshep x kaidan #take me home

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roseyful · 3 years

Text

Mars Red: Edge of the Nightmare - Review

Now, my Tumblr has been a bit quiet lately (been queuing a lot of things so then it wasn’t too quiet during my absence), but it has been for a good reason; last month I was approached [on my private twitter account] and asked if I would be able to playtest a game and write a review, and of course, being someone that enjoys games, especially those that follow an otome style, I had to say YES.

So its proud to say that after a while of playing the game, I finally get to write this review.

Now before I get into the game itself, I would like to take the moment to give appreciation to the team for being so helpful during my time of playtesting the game and before that, as not only would they let us know when there was an issue and the date had to be pushed back, they were so polite and helpful whenever I would run into a problem. That’s something you’d want to see in a gaming company and I’m so glad that my first experience with this company is one with positive results. I personally found no issues with the team themselves, and I do hope they keep this up after the release. Thank you favary for being so lovely and patient with me, and other beta testers.

Mars Red: Edge of The Nightmare was the game that they asked for me to play, however when I originally looked at their website, I couldn’t help but notice that the concept was originally one of a ‘Sound Theatre’, and while I couldn’t figure out what that was, I eventually was lead down a rabbit hole and ended up looking at the other things that Bun-O Fujisawa has worked in. Very interesting stuff, just like the game. However, it’s best to look at his other stuff in your own time.

Please note: I will be keeping this spoiler-free for the sake of letting people go in with no idea of what’s going on besides what I mention and on the website.

Story

The game is set in the early twentieth century in Japan, or better known as the Taisho, in which the website also says ‘[is] influenced by Romanticism’, in which vampires rule the night, as they could only feed off blood and those that stepped into the sun would surely die. Keen senses, incredible physical abilities, and yet they were still vulnerable. You see that very early on with the main character that we play as; Yutsufusa Yuki, a vampire whom became one against his will.

I will be honest, I did not like Yutsufusa when I first started playing, as I felt like he was a bit too willing to die, but that is something that you can overlook when you get further into the story. Yutsufusa is obviously one of the youngest in the group, due to the fact he wears the more ‘modern’ [at the time] clothing out of everyone, well, there is someone else who wears similar clothing but he’s human.

You control Yutsufusa throughout the game, influencing his voices and living his life through his eyes, him acting as the reader insert as you learn about the other characters and begin to grow a bond with them. While the story is a bit slow at first, it does start picking up around the middle-end of chapter 1 and the beginning of chapter 2 after you play the prologue, as you begin to assist “Code Zero” in their work to rid the world of vampires that wish to feast on humans..

Be mindful that there is an anime, however, Yutsufusa does not appear in it, as it focuses on the other main characters, so if you have watched the anime already be sure to remember that they’re either two separate timelines or different points in time. I do not want to confuse anyone with this.

The main cast is quite an interesting bunch, as it covers a wide range of personalities, and sometimes even time periods as you play through the game and unlock things; you might say you might learn a bit of history from it if you end up looking up some of the references I’ve found in the game. This is a great reflection on the idea of ‘immortality, and even has moments where said immortality leans into a few jokes (such as knowledge of birds).

If you’ve played games such as ‘Ikemen Revolution’, you may be familiar with the ticket system. Every day you’re allowed a certain amount of tickets to progress through the story, however, if you run out of tickets and you must read more, then you’re able to progress the story via using ‘amber’, the game’s currency that you can use for different functions. However, this is not needed, as every day your tickets will be replenished. I personally found myself not even needing to use my amber, as I would always wait for the next day. There are mini-stories that you can get if you finish a chapter within a certain amount of time, but I personally don’t find them to progress the story a lot after I read the first one I got. Then again I had other things to occupy my time while I wanted as well. If you wish to reread chapters, you get a bonus third option of currency; coins. Coins can be used to reread chapters in the place of amber or tickets, which means that you can grind out coins via the exploration option in order to see more options (looked at a bit later).

I personally found the story to be engaging, between the use of minigames (or investigations, covered a bit later), it broke up the reading with fun activities that progressed the story.

Is the game an Otome?

No! I was shocked as well when I saw the all-male cast since I was wondering if I was playing a boys love game, but in the end, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that this is actually a detective game. While it may carry the usual look of an otome, with the story and choices of how you speak influencing the endings of chapters, the game more feels like one of finding new friends and solving kick-ass investigations than finding romance. It’s refreshing.

This is especially true between the minigames in which helps influence the story that is all very unique in their own way and do not seem repetitive once you get into the flow of how they work.

Minigames

The minigames come forward in two forms; investigation, interrogation, and infer. Investigation sounds exactly how you’d expect, as you have to poke around and look at things, which you can review in a little notebook that sits in the top right of your screen in the case you need to review what you’ve looked at. When I was first launched into this section for the first time, I had a little trouble remembering exactly what I needed to look at (as I was given a set of things to tap), however, I do have to thank the team for thinking ahead and adding the option to be able to watch ads in order to see what you need to do. This was one of the two times I’d have to watch ads, as they don’t shove them in your face every few seconds like most mobile games do which is rather nice. Sometimes you gain information or items that you have to use later, so it’s a good idea to keep track of what you look at.

Interrogation acts as a question-based information gathering, in which you talk to NPCs in order to gather information to use in the investigation. Like Investigation, these points are put into your notebook for later.

Infer takes the first two investigation segments and combines the information, as you now get interrogated by one of the main characters, and you must respond back with the proper information in order to make sure that this segment is successful. You are able to read back on the notes from the other segments at this point by pressing the button with the book icon in the upper right corner, as this aids you in selecting the right answers. When I first came to this section, I did feel under pressure due to it, but it was interesting to see the negative answers from the character if I got it wrong.

Exploration is another part of the game, that while outside the story, there are parts that require a certain amount of story points in order to clear ‘point blocks’. This is where you get the coins from and frankly is good to use once you have finished using all your tickets for the day and want to use the rest of the time to grind coins. During the exploration, you set up 2 characters, a place, and a set [in real life] time of how long you want them to be out and about. Depending on the number of points earned, you may earn something called a ‘mummer’, which reveals more about the characters you chose to send out, and even get dialogue of the characters interactions (which can be pretty funny in itself) that shows the dynamic of the two characters- are they friends? Are things tense? You get to learn more by sending them out together.

Artstyle

As an artist, I was incredibly pleased with the art of the game, as the characters do not look the game, there are different body types and ages (from teen to elder), you never had to look at the same face twice for two characters. I will be honest, I do wish the characters were a bit more ‘animated’ with their expressions (such as body movement when they’re feeling certain emotions), however other than that, the sprites are magnificent.

The backgrounds are also really interesting to look at and even tell so much story before you even start investigating within the investigation sections. The design team also needs props, because while a few characters are wearing similar outfits, they’re all wearing them in different ways which shows their character and even the way they probably fight. Though I will say I am a bit biased towards Takeuchi, then again, I really enjoy fun and loud characters in general, and his hair is interesting in a sea of mostly black, purple, silver or blonde hair. Maybe will make a fanart of him in the future if I learn to draw his eyepiece. (on that note, please release the full sprites for us artists to reference, we’d love you eternally for it haha).

Oh no, it’s a-

Yes, its a bit of a gacha game, however, you do not need to actually play the gachas in order to progress through the game; it mostly just unlocks bits of story for those that want to have extra stories, or just want that extra dose of dopamine (haha, me). As someone who plays gacha games ever since they turned 13, I was glad that this game isn’t actually gacha centric, and thus is very free-to-play friendly due to this.

Who would I recommend this for and would I recommend it myself?

Personally, I think this is a game that suits the niche of those that enjoy a good mystery and even play those ‘find an item’ games, mixed in with those that enjoy reading otomes and history. Maybe even someone that enjoys theatre since there’s a character that does theatre. Would I personally recommend it? Yes, I would. The game is very interesting and engaging, the staff behind the game are so lovely.

Once more, here’s the game’s website link ❤️: https://marsred-game.net/en/

#Mars Red #Mars Red: Edge of The Nightmare #otome #game review #otome review #mobile game #mobile otome

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dustofbrokenheart · 4 years

Text

The Covenant: Top Anon

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,288

Summary: You have a loyal follower who comments on every post under your food blog. Just who is your favorite follower and why is the new grocery boy kinda cute too?

It was a new year and the start of a new you. Well, that is, a you who was trying new things.

In the past, you always made resolutions, but that spirit ran out before the month of January was even done. But after the particularly rough time of the past year, you swore that this time would be different, that you would make a serious effort to do something new.

It was that determination that led your current situation—your kitchen countertops were covered with ingredients and cooking utensils, your cell phone resting on a near by tripod for filming purposes.

The goal for this year was to try running a blog, and since you were a bit of a foodie, it made a lot of sense to center the blog around cooking and food. The idea came to you quickly; the hard part was deciding on a name, which took a while.

Eventually, you settled on The Foodiest. Naming was not one of your strong suits, but it was enough to get the point clearly across to potential viewers.

Choosing the layout design was on the same level of easy as deciding and didn’t take more than a day or two to implement on your site. Thank goodness for the existence of pre-made layout templates that saved you the effort of having to code everything yourself.

With of the work on that end finished, the day had finally come for you to actually cook something to post about. Seeing as how January was a cold, winter month, you chose to make mashed sweet potatoes. Not only was it one of your favorite winter side dishes, it wasn’t hard to make either, giving you the confidence that even if your writing was lackluster, at least the food would look good.

Most of the blogs you were familiar with used a combination of text and photos for readers to follow along with, but you were going to try video in place of images. You sometimes struggled to copy based on what was shown in the photo, especially when you first started cooking, so you hoped video would make it easier on budding chefs who came across your content.

Luckily, the video would be sped up and lapsed for the final post to spare people from having to watch the monotonous parts in full length.

Hands on your hips, you surveyed everything one last time to make sure it was all ready. With a satisfied nod you reached forward to tap the large, red record button on the phone.

You debated whether or not to talk while filming but decided against it. You were nervous enough posting to the blog without having the added stress of talking.

Everything happened in its regular order: you started by peeling and chopping the potatoes, a basic step, but you took your time doing it, paranoid as ever that you would cut yourself with the knife. Next you boiled the bright orange chunks in a pot of water; then put them in a mixing bowl once they were cooked. And finally used an electric mixer to blend it all nice and smooth, adding in milk, brown sugar, and cinnamon.

Swiping your pointer finger through the finished product, you hummed with delight at the delicious, sweet taste. You pulled out a presentable bowl from the cupboard and spooned some orange fluff into it for the final reveal. Reaching blindly towards the far end of the counter you grabbed a bag of pecans to top off the mashed sweet potatoes. You scrutinized it and added more pecans for good measure.

Doing something in front of a camera was very different than doing the same thing on a normal day. Tension leeched out of your shoulders and you exhaled loudly with your head leaned back. A sense of pride warmed your chest, especially as you returned your gaze to the picturesque bowl. It looked great and tasted even better.

There was a large portion of leftovers because the recipes you used were collected from family and meant to feed small armies of people. You did your best to eat what you could and made plans sharing the rest with friends and coworkers later.

A few days after you published the post, you decided to check the stats on your account dashboard to see what the public response to it was, if there was any at all. Google analytics was useful for counting the total number of views it received while the blog site itself tracked the likes and… a comment?

Initial shock gave way to a bolt of excitement that had your fingers tingling with energy. You clicked to read it, wondering what it may say. Fingers crossed it was something good, whether it came in the form of a compliment or some constructive criticism.

Anonymous: wow good job

The chair creaked as you sat back slowly. You didn’t know how to read that, there wasn’t a whole lot to go on. Wow good job, said sarcastically? Wow good job, said excitedly? It didn’t help that the commenter didn’t believe in using punctuation either. And since it was submitted anonymously, there was no easy way to track down who sent it.

But maybe you were being too paranoid about it. You decided to take it as a compliment and cracked your fingers before firing off a response.

Foodiest: Thanks anon! I had a lot of fun with this dish. Hope you tune in for the next one :)

Anonymous never followed up with that particular exchange but they commented on every post without fail for the next two months.

Anonymous: nevr had white chili before it was good

Anonymous: the stuffed pepper were good

Anonymous: good call with the shrimp

Of course, all of the messages were sent as anonymous, so there was no 100% guarantee that it was the same person, but your gut feeling told you that it was. Who else had no respect for grammar rules and religiously used ‘good’ as their only descriptor?

You grew to expect, and enjoy, the weekly comment left by anon and made sure to leave a nice response in return. It was hard not to feel a connection to someone who took the time to try your recipes and leave a nice message. If only you could figure out who it was or at least have a name for them besides anonymous.

Foodiest: I’m glad you liked the recipe! My gramma swore by mayo when making grilled cheese. Thanks for always liking my stuff, if you ever want to talk more feel free to message me!

There. Maybe that would make them feel comfortable to give you their name you thought as you powered down your laptop for the night.

You spent the next couple of days leading up to the new post planning on what recipe to cook. Yep. Definitely not hoping for more information about anon.

For this newest post you decided to make some Indian curry, one of your favorites. Even long after you finished cooking, taping, and cleaning, the potent scent of spices was still heavy in the air, like aromatic nirvana that had your mouth watering even with a full stomach.

You tried your best not to refresh the post every few minutes to see if anon commented but it was tough. It turned out that you didn’t have to wait long as they left a comment within twenty minutes.

Anonymous: havent cooked this yet but looks good. Never really had indian before so have to go buy the stufff first – po

Anon finally gave up a name! You let out a happy noise and read it again. Po… short and to the point, just like all of the previous responses had led you to think about them. There was no time to waste, you hurried to write back, initial typos all over the place as the words out-paced your fingers.

Foodiest: Hi Po! It’s nice to have a name to put with your words. I would recommend going to an Asian Market for the spices, they’re more likely to carry them. Let me know how it goes for you :)

Since that conversation, Po and you chatted frequently about the weekly recipe choice, whether or not it looked good and if Po had plans to make it themselves, which they often did. Po seemed to like all types of food; vegetarian, meats, drinks, desserts, even ethnic dishes from places as far off as Bolivia and Morocco.

And the longer you two talked, the more frequent the messaging became. Whereas in the beginning Po would only submit a compliment that you would follow up with a ‘thank you’, it had turned into lengthy back and forths that took up a majority of the comment section for each post. More followers joined as the months went by and you hoped that they weren’t intimidated by your blatant favoritism but it was just so easy to talk with Po. If you were being honest with yourself though, it wasn’t only that it was easy… you genuinely liked talking to them.

Every time you made a new post it was difficult to not refresh the page every few minutes to see if they had left a message. And when they did, it was like a shot of electricity straight into the system where your heart would jolt and your face would flood with heat. You were hesitant to say it was a crush given that you didn’t know what they actually looked like and the computer screen barrier made it so you were content to define it as friendship.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you grabbed your wallet and keys while putting on shoes so you could make a quick run to the store. You had big plans to make some buffalo chicken wings for the blog this week and you needed to stop by the store to pick up some ingredients that you didn’t have, namely Frank’s Original Red for the buffalo sauce and blue cheese for the dip. Being an adult and responsible for your own grocery shopping was a chore at times.

Luckily, Winter had thawed out into Spring so there was no need for you to warm up or car or scrape your windows. You just hopped in and drove the four blocks it took to get to the store. The plan was to cross the stuff for the wings off of your list first and then browse around for some good snacks to tide you over for the next week or so. Things were going according to plan until you saw him.

A tall boy wearing an employee apron stood in front of the cracker section, his jaw line and soft looking long hair catching your eye. Then he reached up to the tallest shelf to restock some boxes his arms flexing slightly to show off his heavy biceps and his shirt rode up, exposing deep cut ridges in his lower abdomen. To put it simply, you were starstruck.

He finished with the boxes he had in-hand and went to grab more from the cart at his side when you noticed your blatant ogling. Rather than confront you about it he merely smiled and moved out of the way so that you could get to the brand that you wanted. Choking from embarrassment, you kept your head down and threw a box of Goldfish into your shopping cart, speeding to get out of the aisle and his presence.

The store was a small local business and you frequented enough to know most of the workers there but you didn’t recognize this one, meaning that he must be new. What a way to make a first impression on him. Clearly your constitution was no match for his rugged, good looks. Then he was polite enough not to comment on you objectifying him which somehow made you feel even worse about it.

You decided to end the shopping trip almost immediately knowing that you were too spooked to continue shopping lest you run into him again.

You rolled the shopping cart into an open check-out lane and started putting your things on the conveyor for the cashier to scan. It just so happened that you knew the cashier—she was a middle-aged lady who’d been at the store for nearly two years. “Hi, Y/N. Find everything you needed?”

“Hey, Eva. Yes, I did.” You tried to steady yourself. Eva had a notoriously sharp eye and wouldn’t hesitate to question you if you looked off.

She left you alone today, engaging in normal chit chat, until she had trouble scanning the bottle of Frank’s hot sauce. Eva frowned when it didn’t want to scan and tried again but the bottle slipped from her hands and the neck of it shattered. Eva cursed and huffed, hurrying to throw the bottle into the trash before more leaked onto the register.

“I am so sorry, hun! I’ll get you another.”

“It was an accident,” you assured. “I can get it myself—"

“Not a problem,” she assured you with a wink. She pulled a walkie from her hip and spoke into it. “Hey, bring me a bottle of Frank’s Original Red Hot Sauce. Quick.”

You barely had time to don your awkward smile as she talked about how her neighbor’s dog kept pooping in her yard when the guy from the cracker aisle walked up behind Eva and handed a bottle of hot sauce to her. She took it and patted his back to get him to move forward.

“Thanks, hun. Y/N this is the new grocery boy—”

“Pogue,” he interrupted. “My name is Pogue.”

_______________

Another fic where they know each other but don’t know that they do. This time featuring Pogue and his fandom accepted interest in food. I picture him to have bad messaging skills — his fingers struggle with those tiny phone buttons.

#the covenant #pogue parry #pogue parry x reader #imagines

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firefly464 · 4 years

Text

Searching

hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng i did it again guys please im just aoierfhdaij im hyperfixating please help me

yes i did continue the Your Name!AU because it makes me so so so happy and i just oawiehfdal god i love it so much

SPOILERS FOR YOUR NAME BELLOW

~~~

Niki ran a hand through her hair as she once more refreshed her google search. There had to be something, anything. Someone couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth.

It had been over a month since her and Wilbur had last swapped places, and she had started getting worried. She couldn’t help the fear that was starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. Fear that she was never going to see her second family ever again. That they were gone forever.

She had tried to contact him any way she could, but calls never went through, and her texts were always blocked. She had nothing to work off of. The only reference she had were several voice recordings that he had left on her phone.

Some of the recordings were nothing more than journal entries describing his day, something that they both had agreed on doing early on. Others were random stories about his brothers, or from when he was younger. There were even some that were nothing more than kind messages, telling her to have a good day, or wishing her luck on an upcoming test.

Her favorite recordings however, were the ones where he would play the guitar and sing. There was something comforting about hearing her own voice play back to her, filled with confidence and strength as he played her old guitar. Sometimes, if she was having trouble falling asleep, she would listen to them.

Now though, they were her only lead to finding Wilbur.

The sound of a text made her jump slightly, the sudden noise cutting through the vast silence. Glancing down at her phone, a bright grin spread across her face.

The text was from her best friend, Minx. It was short and simple, straight to the point. She had asked her best friend for help finding Wilbur nearly a week ago, but she hadn’t expected any results.

I think I found something.

Seriously?? What's the link?

I think I should show you this in person. I’m coming over.

She frowned slightly. What was so important that it required Minx to show her in person? Not that she really minded an excuse to see her best friend, but it was still confusing.

~~~

Ten minutes later, Niki threw open the front door to her latest foster home, practically dragging Minx inside. She didn’t even give her friend a chance to settle in or get herself situated before she turned, staring expectantly.

“Well? What did you find?” She demanded. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew she was being rude, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to see her family again, and the look in Minx’s face was only making her more anxious.

Taking a deep breath, Minx set her computer down on the desk. She began opening it, but stopped herself. She turned towards Niki. “Tell me again what this guys name is?”

“Wilbur Pandel, why?”

“Look…” She was clearly stalling. “I- I posted some of the videos you sent me online like you asked and… Someone recognized them.”

“Really?! That's great! What did they say?”

“They sent me the link to a news article.” Slowly, she opened the laptop. “Just a warning, it's not pretty.”

Niki grabbed the computer without hesitation, already reading the tab that Minx had open. The first thing that she noticed as she skimmed through the title was the name of the town. Her heart soared.

“That's it! That's the town! Oh my god that’s it, that’s where he’s from!” she had already put down Minx’s computer and pulled out her own, checking her bank account and clearing her schedule.

“Niki, Niki!” Minx called out. “Did you even fuckin read the rest of the title? That town is gone. It was destroyed years ago.”

#guys please #i love this movie #im actually hyperfixating please help me #but also im having so much fnu #so for context #wilbur was a decently well known musician in his area #and niki is a foster child #Nihachu #Wilbur Soot #minx #kimi no na wa #your name #your name au #my writing #NMTBV

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ughgclden · 3 years

Note

bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3

#asks <3 #anon asks!#star anon #long post

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bgn846 · 4 years

Text

Old Wounds - FFXV fanfic

Summary: Ignis works to figure out how he can incorporate befriending a maralith into his busy schedule. Noct may have something to say about it, and it might not be good.

Work Text:

“You can’t be serious?!” Noct all but yelled. “He’s dangerous, you can’t go back. One of those things almost killed me, remember?”

Ignis took a deep breath through his nose and waited to make sure Noct wasn’t going to say anything else. “I understand that highness, but there is a chance he may come looking for me if I don’t make an appearance soon.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, I – I don’t know what I would have done if something --,” Noct paused and looked away. “I just can’t bear the thought of you around that thing.”

“Understood,” Ignis replied with a forced smile. After his ordeal with the maralith, Gladiolus, a month ago, Ignis wasn’t in the mood to push things. He’d had enough nightmares to last him a lifetime already, he didn’t really need to add to them.

Gathering his paperwork he stood and exited Noct’s private meeting rooms. Talking about the incident brought back all the memories like it was yesterday. Ignis thought he was going to die out in the field that day. No one expects to come back from being captured by a maralith, especially one that takes you to his cave where no one can attempt a rescue.

Shoving aside the emotions it stirred, Ignis made his way to his next meeting. He’d become a bit of a celebrity since his return. The crownsguard that had survived a maralith attack and lived to speak of it, that’s what people said. The chatter seemed to follow him through the halls, but Ignis was getting tired of hearing it. Noct had been attacked and barely survived. Ignis didn’t hear anyone at the citadel talking about Noct in awe. It didn’t seem fair in a way, the prince deserved recognition for his plight, and he’d been closer to death’s door than Ignis had.

Though nearly drowning and freezing to death hadn’t been a fun experience either, shuddering at the memory Ignis hurried along the corridor. The sooner he could put this all behind him the better. Though, he did feel a small bubble of guilt for having lied to the monster. Offering to go back and see him made sense at the time. Ignis hadn’t wanted to anger the maralith.

No matter how bad it made him feel, Noct was resolute in his opinion. The prince didn’t want Ignis to see Gladiolus again. Praying that the monster would forget him was wishful thinking, Ignis had a feeling the maralith wouldn’t stay silent forever. Sighing heavily Ignis tried to clear his head, he had work to do.

It was one week later that Ignis received a frantic summons in the middle of a meeting. The guard who came to collect him was practically running as they made their way to the kings’ office. All Ignis had been told was something had happened that required his immediate attention. Most of his fears were laid to rest when he was ushered into the space and saw Regis and Noct in attendance along with Cor and Clarus.

“What’s happened?” Ignis asked once the guard left.

“The maralith has made an appearance,” Cor offered as he stepped forward to hand Ignis a tablet.

“Is this security footage?”

“Yes, from the nearest outpost to his cave,” Cor replied.

“Oh dear, has he hurt anyone?” Ignis couldn’t bear it if the maralith had killed someone due to his actions.

“No, he’s been blocking the road though, and yelling your name, loudly.”

Groaning Ignis ducked his head, this wasn’t how he’d hoped his afternoon would go. Looking over at the prince revealed the young man staring resolutely at the floor. “What would you have me do?” Ignis asked glumly.

“It’d probably be best if you could talk to him, you were able t--.”

“No! I won’t let Iggy go back out there, he could get hurt, like me,” Noct lamented.

Ignis chose to stay silent; he’d already had enough arguments with Noct over this very subject. The battle was not his to win anymore.

“Highness, with all due respect to your past history, this maralith isn’t like any other I’ve seen,” Cor tried with a sad face. “We don’t know what it’ll do if he doesn’t see Ignis.”

“What if it’s a trick,” Noct uttered softly. “What if he just wants to hurt Ignis this time?”

“Son, have you heard Ignis’ account of what happened?” Regis asked.

Noct turned towards his father and shook his head. “I couldn’t, I didn’t want to think of Ignis being attacked like I was.”

“His situation was different than yours, perhaps if you hear what Ignis has to say on the matter you may change your mind. Not all things are in black and white,” Regis finished.

“I know that!” Noct hissed but he still had a hard look on his face.

Ignis was stunned to hear that Noct still hadn’t gotten all the details of what had occurred. The prince had always left the room when he was retelling his story, and Ignis had figured he would at least read the report later. Apparently, Noct had done nothing of the sort and instead remained fearful. It pained Ignis to no end that his friend and liege couldn’t even stand to hear his account due to the suffering it caused. “I’m so sorry Noct, I didn’t think my struggles would cause you such grief,” Ignis added after a moment of silence.

“Whoa! I’m not upset with you Ignis! Shit, no, um – gah!” Noct gave up trying to finish his sentence and threw his head back into the sofa cushion.

“Might you be up for hearing what happened?” Regis asked quietly.

Noct took a few minutes to respond, “fine.”

Without pause, Ignis retold the one part of the story he assumed Noct would care about, the moment where Gladiolus had saved him, first from drowning and second from hypothermia.

“Wait? The snake man actually saved you?” Noct asked incredulously.

“Yes, and I do understand your reservations about me seeing him again, but I fear he may get violent if I don’t make this effort,” Ignis pleaded.

“I’m not sending you out there alone!” Noct proclaimed.

Ignis could hear Cor sighing heavily in the background, along with Clarus. The two were not happy with this new development, but what choice did they have. If Ignis had been unable to win an argument with Noct over this subject then they certainly weren’t going to fare any better.

“I suppose we should get a move on, the longer we keep this maralith waiting the more agitated he could become,” Regis announced as he stood up slowly.

“Hold on, you aren’t going!” Clarus sputtered indigently.

The king laughed humorlessly as he grabbed his cane and began walking towards the door. “If you think I’m going to let my son go anywhere near a maralith without sussing out the situation first, you’re crazy Clarus.”

Ignis could feel his adrenaline spiking as he got out of the car nearly an hour later. They’d made it to the checkpoint and Gladiolus was clearly visible on the other side of the fence. It was obvious he could have smashed through easily. For him to hold back was promising.

As he approached the gate Gladiolus saw him and rushed forward, knocking over the guards in his way. In a surprising move, the maralith vaulted his long body over the fence and landed with a significant thud directly in front of Ignis.

The monster didn’t wait for permission this time as he scooped Ignis up and glared at him. Thankfully, this time the hold wasn’t tight and Ignis’ arms were free. The distant cries of people shouting things about being on standby and hold your fire made Ignis heart beat faster. Before he could think of what to say Gladiolus offered his opinion.

“Liar!” he accused while reaching out a hand to lift Ignis’ chin slightly.

“I’ve got a job to do Gladiolus, I can’t come out here all the time.”

“Liar,” he grumbled again.

Sighing heavily Ignis wondered what he could say to appease the giant temperamental snake man. “I’m truly sorry for not coming sooner.”

“Why?” Gladiolus asked as he removed his finger from under Ignis’ chin.

Honesty was the best policy, right? Ignis felt a little bad at having to resort to tattling, but this maralith was too smart to be trifled with. “My boss forbade me from coming.”

Gladiolus scrunched up his face and curled his lip slightly. “Non scitis sermo.”

Thinking fast Ignis understood that Gladiolus probably didn’t have a need for the word boss in his life. “Uh, master? King?” When the maraliths’ frown turned into a smirk he knew he’d figured it out.

“Maneat?” the maralith asked as his shoulders relaxed.

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay, my master gets nervous with your kind.”

“Why?” Gladiolus demanded.

“He was attacked by a maralith and almost died when he was younger,” Ignis replied in a soft voice so Noct wouldn’t hear. The king and his son were only a few yards away. Regis had adopted a somewhat familiar fighting stance, and Noct was visibly shaking.

“Dicite mihi in nomen! Ego nocere esi,” Gladiolus fumed, his frown was back.

Ignis wasn’t sure exactly what the maralith had said, but he was quickly trying to translate. His refresher course in ancient solheimian over the past few weeks hadn’t been for naught. Going out on a limb Ignis repeated what he thought Gladiolus had said. “You want the name of the maralith, right? The one that hurt my friend?”

Gladiolus nodded and balled up one of his fists, shaking it around towards the sky. “Ego nocere esi!”

“You want to do something to them?”

“Malum, hurt,” he finished with a pout.

“I think it might help for him to hear that, do you think you could put me down for a moment?” Ignis tried to resituate himself, but one of his legs was bent underneath a massive hand and the other was sticking out in between Gladiolus fingers. He must have looked ridiculous fidgeting in the monster's grasp.

“Maneat?”

“Yes, I’ll stay this time, I’m not leaving.”

Gladiolus nodded and then gently lowered Ignis to the ground. His hands remained bracketed around him until he stood up straight. How this monster knew his knees were pudding was a mystery. Carefully pushing the maraliths’ hands to the side he approached Noctis.

“We’re leaving!” he spit out.

Ignis held up his hand, “highness, may I please just ask you to be patient with me? I’d like to tell you what he just said.”

“You can talk to him?”

Nodding Ignis waited for Noct to look directly at him. “He’s just offered to go hurt the maralith that attacked you.”

“Why?!” Noct asked in surprise.

“Would you like me to ask him?” Before Noct could answer Ignis turned around and looked up at Gladiolus. “My friend wishes to know why you would offer to hurt the one that attacked him.”

“Et nocuerunt tua, familia. Non est bonum.”

“What’d he say?” Noct asked quickly as he walked up to stand nearby.

“I believe he’s saying that the other maralith hurt my family and that’s bad.”

Noct looked slightly stunned by that comment. “He doesn’t know me at all, why would he say that?”

“Ignis amans mei,” Gladiolus offered calmly like it was the most reasonable explanation.

“Huh, what does that mean?” the prince asked innocently.

Of course, this was the exact time that Regis decided this maralith wasn’t a threat and strode forward to answer his son’s question. “I believe the maralith thinks Ignis is his lover.”

Ignis could feel heat pooling in his cheeks at the admission. He didn’t know why it would be so embarrassing to hear spoken out loud. It wasn’t like he felt the same way back.

“Um, what? How the hell would that even work?” Noct asked risking a glance that wasn’t anywhere near Gladiolus' face.

“Don’t continue that train of thought Noctis Lucis Caelum. Or I will cook you nothing but vegetables for a solid month.”

Noct clamped his mouth shut and scooted closer as if to say sorry.

“Dicere illud nomine!” Gladiolus requested suddenly as he bent down to look at them better.

“This is my friend Noctis,” Ignis replied as he put an arm around the princes’ shoulder.

“No, nomine alio.” The maralith looked a little desperate.

This time the king stepped closer and repeated their family name. “We are of the family Lucis Caelum. I am called Regis and this is my son Noctis.”

Gladiolus furrowed his brow and squinted at Noctis. “Vultus amo Somnus.”

“Yes, he does look like the founder king, it’s true,” Ignis said calmly.

“No, est Somnus,” Gladiolus energetically replied gesturing towards Noct’s face. “Est Somnus.”

Ignis could feel the blood draining from his face, if he understood Gladiolus correctly that would mean he’d actually seen Somnus in his lifetime. Since the maralith seemed to think Noct was Somnus.

“Er, Somnus died several thousand years ago Gladiolus. This is his descendent.”

The maralith furrowed his brow and began silently counting on his many fingers. “Milia?”

“Yes, thousands, have you lost track of time?”

Gladiolus nodded and frowned. He seemed deep in thought until Regis broke the silence.

“Perhaps we could move this meeting to someplace more comfortable?” the king suggested kindly.

The maralith immediately straightened up and pointed back toward his cave in the mountains. He seemed excited by that prospect.

“There is a perfectly good outbuilding near the guard station. I believe it would be spacious enough to fit you.”

Trying to teach English to a two thousand-year-old maralith was easier than Ignis expected. Mainly because he understood the language already and simply hadn’t known how to pronounce things. Surprisingly Regis and Noct had stayed during the impromptu language lesson. The outbuilding had been large enough to pull their car into so the king had opted to take a nap in the front passenger seat. Noct meanwhile sat in the backseat with the window rolled down staring at them.

Ignis could tell Noct was still nervous, but he hoped it would help to see him interact with Gladiolus in a good way. The maralith had been on his best behavior. It probably helped that Ignis let Gladiolus hold him during their lesson. The maralith’s tail was curled around them both protectively as he sat on Gladiolus' hand like some giant warm squishy bench.

Soon enough the sun had fully set and Ignis knew they’d need to get back home. “I’m afraid it’s time for us to go back to the city.”

“No.” Gladiolus pouted.

“Come now, it can’t be that bad when we leave?”

“Lonely,” the maralith answered.

Knowing he couldn’t promise to come back until Noct had given him his blessing, Ignis thought of what he could say to help make Gladiolus feel better. “Shall we ask the king if I can come back to teach you more?”

“Yes! I want that,” Gladiolus agreed with a hopeful look.

The sound of a car door opening caused Ignis to look over, Noct was carefully walking closer. “Do you promise not to hurt anyone?”

“Et iusiurandum dant, I give oath.”

“No tricks, right?” Noct questioned seriously, looking very much like his father in the process.

Gladiolus shook his head and smiled. “I will see Ignis again, this makes me happy.”

“Okay, I’m alright with you coming out here to meet. Just please be careful.” That last statement was directed towards him and not the maralith.

“Curam, tutum,” Gladiolus added earnestly. “Ignis safe, I no hurt.”

“I won’t hurt,” Ignis corrected.

The maralith beamed at him and nodded.

“Very well, do you think you could tell the guards at the station that you wish to see me without blocking the road next time?”

“Yes, bring me Ignis,” Gladiolus offered with a grin.

Unwilling to correct the maralith Ignis nodded and stood up. “I’ve got to get home and rest, perhaps in a few days you can come to ask for me?”

“Yes, I do that, tomorrow.”

“No, let’s make it three days from now.”

“No lie?”

“No I’m not lying, three days from now I’ll be ready to come back here, just be kind to the guards.”

“I will, go safely Ignis.”

“And you as well,” he offered. Then in a move that would surely be his downfall later, Gladiolus bent down and kissed the top of his head. Momentarily stunned by the action Ignis didn’t do anything as the maralith uncoiled his tail and slithered off. Complete with a devilish smirk. The tricky bastard even turned back briefly just to say ‘amans mei’ before disappearing.

“Ignis, did the snake man just kiss you?” Noct asked a little breathlessly.

“Veggies, Noct, lots of them if you tell anyone.”

“Tell them what?” Noct answered before rushing back to the car to wake his father.

Cor was by his side a moment later, “How are you holding up?”

“I’m – I – shit, Cor I don’t know, this is all very overwhelming.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard. Take things a step at a time. Not sure what you can do if he tries to kiss you again though.”

“Marshal, six help me, don’t start.”

“I would never dream of it Ignis. I’m here to help. Might I suggest a trip to the archives to see if anyone else has been caught in the sights of an amorous maralith?”

Now that idea Ignis could run with, this had to have happened before! Hopefully, someone wrote down their life story and Ignis would find it. Though he wasn’t sure his luck would run that way. For now, he had a budding friendship with a maralith. Noct wasn’t stopping it and Gladiolus seemed to behave well enough. Time would tell what happened next.

#ffxv #maralith #gladio #ignis #maralithio #fanfic #gladio as a maralith

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heavenlysan · 5 years

Text

Cruel Love 8

Words: 3,7k

Chapters:

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

(Y/N's POV)

He was the last man I was expecting to see at my door, what is he even doing here? He shouldn't be seen around here. I open the door and I quickly drag him inside.

"Are you insane?" I exasperatedly yell. Dylan was standing there with a pizza in his hands and confused for suddenly getting scolded.

"Well hello to you as well dear" He makes himself at home and gets directly to the kitchen "I know we're not supposed to be in touch but I think we seriously need to talk and I brought pizza because you always said to never show up at your place without food"

"I can't share details with you about the case you already know that" I sit at the table right in front of him.

"It's not necessarily about the case I just think something wrong is happening" He moves his bangs exposing his forehead he has a big bruise, what the hell happened? "You know how I called you and asked you about a paper?"

"Yes, but how is that connected with your bruise? What happened to you?" He starts eating a piece of pizza, why is he so calmed?

"I told you I was going to clean your apartment while you're staying here for God knows how long right?" I nod. "When I got to your apartment everything was a mess and I thought well Y/N isn't always precisely clean so it wasn't a big surprise and then since everything was triggering my perfectionistic ass I cleaned first and then later I searched for that paper, when I finally found it"

"Dylan just go to the point" I shrug playfully.

"I'm getting there, I found the paper and I left it on top your couch so I could just take out the trash go back to get the paper and then leave but that's where it got weird"

"How?"

"While I was taking out the trash I got beat up" His smile disappears. "You know how I always think positive before jumping to conclusions so I thought well Y/N doesn't live in the most secure neighbourhood so maybe someone confused me with someone, but then it got weirder. When I went back inside your apartment the paper wasn't there anymore"

I rest on my chair, not understanding what is happening right now.

"And I wanted to know exactly how close were you able to get with that man, what was his name Choi San?"

"So what you're saying is that you think it was him?" He nods and I chuckle without realizing. "How could this possible be him? For several reasons first my last case has nothing to do with him, he doesn't know you, he doesn't know I lived there and last why would he need that paper?"

"Listen I just have a big hypothesis, but first does he like you?" I keep quite genuinely not knowing how to answer that after all San only said I think I like you but didn't confirm it "Okay that silence confirms it he likes you, listen here I go he most likely found out about you being a detective but he likes you so he is just gonna pretend nothing happened to keep seeing you, but he is a jealous possessive man and just wants you all for himself and mistook our friendship with something else and beat me up and stole my paper just to mess more with me" This time I laugh loudly, hysterically.

"Ah I was having a bad day but thank you for making me laugh like that" But he doesn't laugh "There's a lot of not clicking stuff in your hypothesis first of all I don't think San is that type of man if he had found out that I'm a detective he would've killed me without hesitation. And I'll tell you why but you better keep it to yourself because I'm not supposed to be sharing stuff about the case with anyone but Irene"

"Who am I even gonna share it with? My dog? Just keep talking"

"One of his friends told me something about San, I don't remember his exact words but something about how he thought the whole relationships thing was over for San so It's been on my mind that probably he went through some bad stuff with women or was I don't know maybe betrayed and now he probably has a hard time trusting people so" I take a pause to finally get a bite "if he takes betrayal like a stab in the heart I don't think I would be alive if he knew the truth"

"And how did you manage to make him open up"

"I got lucky I guess, besides I don't really see him as a possessive man because.." I look up from my plate when I realise I was about to unveil San's recent crimes. "He doesn't have that vibe"

"Okay then maybe I'm a bad detective and I read everything wrong, but just be careful with this man the FBI sent you with zero undercover training"

"I think you're the one who should be careful, just connect the dots Dylan, you are looking for a murderer who kills people every year on the same day, when you arrived at my apartment everything was a mess like someone was desperately looking for something, the paper, the important clue to the case and then you got beat up and suddenly the biggest clue disappears. I think they know you're looking for them"

"Now I know why they didn't want me to go in your place you're a better detective than I am" He laughs despite all the things I said of the possibility of the murderer knowing his moves.

"You are the one who trained me does that mean the student surpassed the master?" He chuckles "But I'm being serious please be careful out there I don't want you dead"

"I'll be fine, you better than anyone else knows how tough it's our job we're always in danger but we keep going" He looks at me tilting his head a little bit "Being out of that office helped you a lot you look… alive"

I almost choke on my pizza "Are you saying I looked dead before?"

"No there's just something different about you, you needed some fresh air I guess"

Dylan stayed for the rest of the afternoon, we didn't really keep talking about each other's cases, he just rambled on about random things that crossed his mind. Talking with him has always been so easy and funny while working he made work less stressful. And this time it definitely felt refreshing talking with someone from my real life with no yelling like the times I talk with Irene.

The night came before we even noticed.

"Just call a taxi this street isn't really crowded and not many taxis pass around here you'll be waiting outside in the dark and the cold for too long" I said with a worried voice.

"It's okay mom, I can walk a few blocks and then take the bus no big deal" He smiles and rolls his eyes.

I cringe at him calling me mom, but I've always been protective when it comes to Dylan, my only friend "Did you even hear a word about my whole tedtalk of taking care? Or it went in one ear and out the other?"

"No, it didn't I promise I'll be careful and look behind my back wherever I go" He raises his pinky and locks it with mine.

"A pinky promise, really?" I cringe even more but he's always like this. He then smiles and waves goodbye.

I close the door and I can't help but feel worried about him, even if we got the conclusion of San not being the one who beat him up there's still someone out there who did it, who knows his moves and where I lived. If I could only remember what was on that paper but it's been quite a long time since I read all the things I compiled about all the people killed and all of the suspects.

I sit on the floor in front of the couch, there's this feeling inside of me like a pain or a knot in my heart, that makes me… sad? like a presentiment like some bad shit is gonna happen soon and it worries me, I don't want more bad things happening in my life I'm over it I already went through a lot of bad stuff I deserve a break.

I bury my hands on my pockets and I feel a tiny paper I take it out and it's San's phone number with a message

Princess I know you're mad at me but if you need me for anything don't hesitate to message me or call me whatever you prefer I'll be there as soon as I can.

When did he even put his phone number inside my pocket? A brilliant idea crosses my mind. I have his phone number, with that I can hack his phone in its entirety. Most people have their bank accounts linked to their phones so payments can be ten times easier. This way I can not only have access to his phone but all the payments he makes, all the phone calls he makes and know everything he's involved in.

Last time Irene forgot her laptop here, in just a matter of minutes I have it connected and ready to get in his phone, hacking has never been hard for me. I type all the codes I need to get inside I do everything correctly and perfectly and I finally have access to his phone. I stare blankly at the screen in front of me. Nothing. There's nothing in there no bank accounts, no contacts, nada. It's probably a new phone to communicate just with me, he really is smart and careful with everything he does.

Frustrated I go to bed and try to sleep, I've had enough of this day I feel like I'm doing everything wrong. And I can't help but feel useless normally I'm efficient in the way I do my job but right now I feel like I haven't moved forward at all.

…

"Do you really think that attractive and rich man likes you? Wake up Y/N now that he knows everything about you, he sees you with pity you're just part of a charity, his good action of the day. Be smarter for once in your life" That man yells right in front of my face "You're still ugly and useless, he just wanted to have sex and he got it and now he's just going to desapear" For once I try to speak back but I can't it feels like my words drown in my mouth and can't be released "What? you want to speak? Are you gonna be a bad girl? Just remember that nobody can hear you" He starts approaching me untying his red tie trying to touch me.

"No!" I wake up tearing up, shaking and completely covered in sweat. I thought the nightmares had ceased but I guess I was wrong. I get up to get a glass of water still trembling. In moments like this I really hate being all alone. I glance at the clock 6am when did I even sleep that much? A hard and desperate knock on the door startles me and makes me accidentally drop my glass of water.

"Y/N open the door it's me, Irene" She yells. But why is she here way earlier than she said she will? And knocking like that. I open the door and there she is but to my surprise she isn't alone she's with two cops by her side.

"What are you doing here so early I still don't have any updates"

"I ordered you to be a prostitute not a full time criminal" She pushes me hard against the wall handcuffing me "Y/N you're under arrest for the brutal murder of Oliver Miller"

"Who the fuck is that?" I try to resist but the cops interfere.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions"

"Get off me I didn't do shit" I yell and I kick but it's useless they're not hearing a word I say.

"You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time."

I try to run but it's all in vain, I don't even know who that man was, this has to be a big misunderstanding. They push me into the car handcuffed and barefoot. I know exactly how this works even if I speak and demand explanations, they see me as the criminal right now and they won't speak back to me and I'll just be wasting breath. I have to keep quiet till we get to the department to have an interrogation.

"Killing a man, I really don't know what was crossing your mind" Irene says without looking at me, using her sleeve to clear the fog accumulating on her window.

I know she's doing that on purpose to make me talk about it but whatever I say right now will be used against me later on. I won't fall in her trap.

We get to the station and I feel sick and cold, this just can't be real. I don't even know the man they're talking about. Irene is sitting next to me without saying a word.

"Get her ready for interrogation, the mother's victim is still in the room, she's gonna have to wait a few minutes" I recognise that man it's a detective but from a different department than mine I've seen him a few times but I don't remember his name.

I see a lot of faces passing by in front of me some familiar some unknown but this time it's different right now I'm seen as the criminal, as the guilty one and all the people passing in front of me look at me with a disgusted expression on their faces

"wasn't she a detective?"

"I saw it coming to be honest"

"but she's so young"

"I always thought she looked like a weirdo and a little suspicious"

I hear people murmuring things about me and I can't help but feel sad. I am innocent. But none of them stop to see the facts.

"You, come here we have some questions for you" Irene stands too "She has to come alone, we already have a lawyer for her" The detective from earlier says.

I go to the interrogation room I've been in charge of interrogation before but it's been just a couple of times. There's another man in the room my lawyer I assume.

"Miss y/n this is your lawyer Mr. Thompson and I'm detective Jones" He sits in front of me I'm really nervous and I just want to scream of frustration because I shouldn't be here but I have to look normal and calmed "We're aware of the case you're involved in right now, but miss you have to know that you're not above the law, why did you tortured and killed Oliver Miller?"

I keep quiet for a moment, I have to think this through and not just answer out of frustration.

"We have evidence of your previous actions against this man, it's footage of a security camera across the street from your apartment" He hands me a computer and now everything makes sense, it's the man who was harassing the other day. But this video shows what I couldn't remember, turns out this man not only said nasty things to me but he dared to touch my butt and I was right I punched him more than I remembered.

I know I didn't kill him but San… His words hit me like a thunder. Leave her alone or I promise I'll kill you. Oh God San why…

"That's you in the video isn't it?"

"It is me I just didn't know his name"

"It's obvious that my client was defending herself as you can see in the evidence Oliver Miller sexualy harassed my client" My lawyer says showing back the screen to detective Jones.

"Yes and that's why she had reasons to kill him, is that why you did it?" He yells and stomps his hands on the table. He's trying to intimate me and get me to confess out of pressure and fear.

"I did had an altercation with Oliver Miller but that was, like my lawyer just said self defense against a sexual predator and that was it I didn't see him again after that"

"The thing is miss, we don't have more footage after that little fight, did you delete it? We know how good you are at hacking" That's a good argument actually. But it's bullshit.

"No I didn't hack anything I don't have my computer with me in my new apartment"

"Really? Because we sent people to check your new apartment and there's a laptop in there and you know what we found? You were hacking something before the police showed up"

"My client said she doesn't have her computer with her in this new apartment" My lawyer replies.

"Yes my lawyer is right I don't have my computer, that laptop is not mine is Irene's, my supervisor"

"What were you hacking then?" This detective I swear… I know he's just doing his job but still.

"That was part of the case I'm working on right now and according with my contract I'm not supposed to share details about it with anyone but Irene" He looks at me exasperatedly, he knows I'm a detective and he knows getting me to confess out of pressure is not gonna work with me. He leaves me alone with my lawyer for a moment.

"Miss Y/N you need to tell me the truth so I can have good arguments did you kill that man?" My lawyer asks while opening his briefcase to get a little notebook.

"No I didn't, I swear"

He leaves the room as well. In my opinion I think I did pretty good. In a certain angle I lied, I don't remember beating that man that much or him touching my butt. But if I had mentioned it they would've imprisoned me immediately if I didn't remember beating that man they're going to think I don't remember killing him as well.

I also could've used Dylan as a witness, he saw me the whole afternoon till the night fell but they could punish him as we're not supposed to have contact. And last I could've blamed San on the spot so easily, but… I couldn't. Before throwing him to the FBI I want to speak to him directly.

Irene enters the room I thought she had left already.

"I got an agreement" She says as she sits in front of me.

"What is it?" I reply

"Mr Miller was found in front of his building his body stayed in the rain for too long and that erased every trail of the murderer. Since you're the only suspect the mom of the victim demands a punishment" She looks at me more serious than she ever looked "You're not going to jail, but you're gonna lose your credibility as a detective and after you're done with your undercover mission you're going to be fired since this brings a bad image to your department"

"You're crazy" I say shaking my head this just can't be happening right now.

"Careful with the way you talk to me I managed to get this agreement but if you don't want it we can send you to jail" She angrily gets up and stands in front of me.

I don't want to cry specially here, I hate crying in front of others. But this is so unfair. "Why should I keep going with the case, you can do it on your own then"

"It doesn't work like that you signed a contract" She sits again "The mother of the victim will think that you went to jail and for that she doesn't have to see you around the neighbourhood so you're gonna have to leave that apartment"

"Does that mean I can go back to my old apartment?" I discreetly wipe my tears away.

"No and the FBI can't get you another one, stay in the car we gave you for awhile"

This time I slam my hands on the table and she jumps startled for my sudden action "So I'm not only gonna lose my job but you also want me to be fucking homeless?"

She nods "Is that or going to jail, it's your choice"

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itzagothamcitysiren · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Family

So here’s the newest installment in my batman series :) I’m super excited for this one, especially with the response from my last two stories. I’m so used to using sites where the community is dead lol. This is very refreshing and motivating. I already have four out of the seven chapters written out!

There's a Web That You Have Wove pt. 1

The one good thing Halley Wilson could say she’d taken away from her father was the ability to function on a minimal amount of sleep, a skill she’d never really had to put in action up until recently. The months flew by as she grew accustomed to her new life in Gotham City and she soon found her body adapted to the schedule she found herself repeating day in and day out that would be overwhelming to any other regular civilian.

She couldn’t believe it’s already been nearly six months since she took up Bruce Wayne’s offer to become his newest crime fighting protégé. The time flew by as she spent night after night pounding her fists into the scum of Gotham’s underbelly. Although she wasn’t nearly as popular as Batman, or even Robin, she’d already started making a name for herself. People started whispering her name, criminal’s starting to turn the other way if they saw her jumping from building to building.

It took some training to learn how to fight less lethally, learning that it was okay to pull back some punches here and there. It was tough for her at first, her first instinct always having been to take down her target as quickly and efficiently as possible. But she knew she if she wanted to work for Batman she had to adhere to his rules. Justice, not vengeance, he always said.

She grumbled, staring down at her textbook as she remember him repeating the phase last night on patrol. He hadn’t directed it to her, rather his other sidekick, Robin. Halley remembered the agitation Jason felt as Bruce laid it out for him once again as they reached the Batcave after another vexing night. Their weeks’ worth of tailing a smuggler had been thrown out the window and even Halley could help but feel some short of way towards Jason for screwing it up. She did believe though that Bruce went a little bit too far when he decided to bench Jason for the rest of the week.

They had followed their guy to an abandoned apartment building, and after a few painstakingly boring hours of recon for the two teens, who’d been itching for a little action, Batman decided it was time for them to make their move. They leapt to the opposing building, sneaking in from above and quickly and silently began clearing out the complex.

There were a couple dozen of guys and what appeared to be hostages, confirming that Batman’s hunch was correct; this was one of the safe houses for who people in Gotham merely called Stan the Pimp. His name made it pretty obvious as to what his career choice was and normally Batman wouldn’t interfere, leaving minor (minor to Gotham’s standards) for the cops to deal with. But when he caught wind of Stan taking his trade further, dabbling in adding children to his line up, Bruce knew the Batman was needed.

Jason showed a particular fire during their little raid, jumping ahead of Batman and Nightshade once they came across the room filled with the missing kids. Nightshade tried going after him but Batman ordered her to stay with the children until the police came, Alfred already sending out a signal for Jim Gordon of their location. Nightshade held the room, immobilizing anyone who tried to enter the room with her poisoned darts. They were non-lethal of course, but naturalizing agents she and Bruce cooked up, her wanting to start incorporating her name with her whole gimmick. If Batman could put the word bat in front of everything he owned, she could have a couple of poison darts here and there.

It wasn’t until the ride home in the batmobile did she realize something was wrong between the two. Batman was usually stern and quiet after a long and successful night, but there was something off about him. Especially the look he gave Jason when he took a seat in the front next to him. When they arrived back home it was than when her feeling was proven correct. She thought she’d be the one struggling to take it easy on the criminals of Gotham, knowing how kill a person in at least a hundred different ways, but she’d yet to have an incident of going overboard.

She had learned however that Jason was an entirely different story. He had no limits, Bruce’s lessons still not drilled into his head somehow. He pushed Bruce’s buttons as hard as he could, always seeing how far he could go in a fight. He hadn’t come close to killing someone yet but whereas Bruce fought to solely subdue, Jason fought to send each criminal he punched to the hospital. Which was were their guy ended up last night.

“”You shattered his collar bone!” Bruce had shouted as they began to settle into the Batcave.

Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes as he ripped his domino mask off. He saved those kids lives that night, he didn’t care if their captor was now knocked out in a prison hospital bed. “He’s a child trafficking-pimp. I didn’t think I had to prop up some pillows before taking him out. He was going to shoot me.”

Halley watched the pair, Bruce moving to almost get in his face. Halley looked at her feet, giving them a moment as she excused herself to get changed out of her costume. As she walked to the changing area the Batcave had, she overheard Bruce’s strict voice, “We needed him. Not all the kids were accounted for! He would’ve talked, but you put him into shock.”

Halley played back the conversation, completely not focusing on the words coming out of her teacher’s mouth. She’d remembered Jason’s discouraged face he wore all morning and couldn’t help but feel bad. As Alfred tried talking to Bruce about last night’s disaster, Halley had tried talking to Jason as they walked the halls into their first class but he just shrugged her off and said he was fine. She hadn’t seen him since, hoping that he hadn’t skipped and get himself into more trouble with Bruce.

Slamming her textbook close as she heard the bell ring, she began shoving it into her backpack. She was starving and wanted to get to the cafeteria as soon as possible to try and beat the lines. Her pathway out of the room was blocked immediately though and she groaned, looking up to glare at who prevented her from exiting the classroom. Inwardly groaning again and mentally rolling her eyes, she tried plastering a fake smile on her face, but she was too tired to try that hard.

In front of her stood Sam Bennet, the girl she had shadowed when she first started at Gotham Academy. The black haired girl smiled at her widely, holding her phone up for Halley to see. The vigilante looked at the screen, unsure what she was looking at. It was some Facebook event page. Sam proceeded to excitedly point to the screen, opening her mouth to talk, “I tried inviting you to this but I couldn’t because we aren’t Facebook friends.”

Halley bite the inside of her cheek as the girl spoke. She tried walking again, and the girl followed. Ever since she saw Dick dropping off and picking up her and Jason from school a few weeks back, Sam had been practically begging without verbally asking to become friends with Halley. She’d tried with Jason but Jason wasn’t as polite as Halley, and kindly told her to fuck off. The crush she had on Dick was unbearable now, and even someone as polite as Halley had noted her patience was running short with all the pestering.

“I don’t have a Facebook.” Halley muttered, hoping that the girl would finally get the hint. Alas, she pressed on, not skipping a step and keeping up with the brunette.

“What? How do you survive?” Sam gasped appalled. She waved her off after she was done gaping. “Regardless, I wanted to invite you to the party I’m throwing this weekend. My parents are going on a skiing trip and I’ll have the whole house to myself so you know, party!” She laughed obnoxiously, already taping away at her phone again. “I’ll text you the address, you can head over around seven!”

Halley rolled her eyes, as the girl looked at her phone. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, angry that the girl had managed to get her phone number. They’d been paired up for a presentation in their English class last mouth and they had to exchange numbers in order to keep up to date on their progress with the project. She nodded, having no intent on going but didn’t want to give the girl anymore reason to carry on this conversation. Halley sneered at the back of Sam’s head as she walked away, throwing a wave back at her.

Turning down the hall, getting closer to the cafeteria, she nearly screamed when she was pulled backwards and into a classroom. Jerking her arm away as the door closed, her eyes looked enraged as she looked up to face her kidnapper. Her gaze turned into a glare as she saw Jason standing in front of the door, closing it and locking it.

“What the hell, Todd.” She growled along with her stomach; she just wanted food.

Jason smirked at how miffed she was and crossed his arms against his chest, with a roll of his eyes. Taking a step back he reached for his backpack he left on the empty teacher’s desk. Unzipping it without a word he pulled out two brown bags, the familiar logo softening Halley’s face while bringing a smug smile to Jason’s.

“Caroline’s?” She gasped, taking the bag he outreached for her. Opening it she found herself a burger and order of onion rings from what had become her favorite diner in Gotham City. Dick often brought her and Jason there whenever he was in town. Popping an onion ring in her mouth she nearly moaned at the greasy treat before narrowing her eyes back at Jason. “Don’t tell me you skipped to go get this?”

Jason merely reached into his own bag and pulled out his own meal, leaning against the desk with a shrug. Halley gave him a disappointed look before letting her backpack fall to the floor. She watch him as he took a giant bite out of his burger, signally that they were apparently eating in the abandoned classroom. He was probably hiding from the principal and didn’t want to get caught with the food. Letting out a sigh, she moved to take a seat at one of the desks, too hungry to argue with him about it.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, stuffing their faces with the unhealthy foods, trying not to think of the look of disappointment Alfred would be giving them if he saw what they were eating. It wasn’t until she was halfway done with her burger did she look up at Jason again. He sat on top of the desk, clearly still upset about last night as he barely ate his food. She gulped down the last few bites that were in her mouth and lowered the burger.

“Are you okay?” She sighed, breaking the silence.

Jason nodded, even though they both knew he was lying. He was still extremely hurt by Bruce benching him yet again. It was like Bruce was regretting letting him be Robin at this point by the amounts of times he took him off the field. How did he expect Jason to learn anything and get better if he was constantly stuck in his room and not out by his side like Robin should be?

It wasn’t even just that. Jason genuinely believed he wasn’t doing anything wrong. These were criminals they were dealing with. Murders, rapists-, psychopaths. Why should they go easy on them? They didn’t deserve to be let off easy, especially the low-lives they dealt with last night. They were dealing innocent kids and they were lucky that only one of them got off with a shattered collar bone.

“They were scum.” Jason hissed, putting the burger in his bag, not hungry anymore as he thought back to the terrified faces of those kids.

“I agree with you.” Halley nodded, doing the same. She pushed the bag out of her way, letting her arms rest on the desk. “They deserve a lot more than what they got.” She agreed, but once she saw Jason’s eyes already getting fired up she trailed back a bit. “But, Bruce is right. We’re no better than them if we start killing every person we fight. Take it from me, I know what it’s like to kill someone, it’s not the greatest feeling in the world.”

Jason bit his lip, trying to think before he spoke with her. He’d been surprised with how much they actually got along since she came back from to the manor. Once she got comfortable and opened up more, Jason couldn’t help but look up to the girl and respect her. She was amazing on the field. Batman was still Batman, but he’d never seen someone fight quite like she did. Her movements were swift, almost fluid, seeing as she didn’t have a lot of muscle mass compared to someone like himself or Bruce, or even Dick; she had to think of other ways to take down stronger advisories. It was like time almost slowed down with how fast she could knock someone off their feet as she could hyper-analyze their movements and match them in a split second. She knew just how to take someone down with one look, and always knew how to react when the situation was growing sour.

But even with all of that he couldn’t help but feel some sort of animosity towards her. She clearly out shined him when it came to a lot of things. Batman never had to chastise her for not following orders or for going out of line. Once Bruce taught her his ways, she was the star student, which only pointed out Jason’s flaws more and more with each patrol. He couldn’t help but think she’d make a better Robin than he ever could and that thought hurt. Being Robin was all he had and now he just had to sit back and watch as Bruce turned to her over him more and more. Jason knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault but he was who he was, and being bitter about it was a natural given.

“I’m not talking about killing anyone, I’m talking about why the fuck am I going to go easy on someone who sells kids like they’re sex dolls?” Jason spat, flaring his arms out. He tensed, seeing Halley cringe at his bluntness, her face looking flustered. He let out a long breathe, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, it just really ticks me off, you know? This city is a shit show and I just don’t see us truly helping.” He paused, looking at her softly. She nodded, pushing him to keep going. Letting out another sigh, he did. “It’s just a constant cycle, we catch the bad guys, they get put away; then they either make bail or get busted out and then it just repeats, over and over-, what good are we really doing?”

Halley frowned, agreeing with him completely but still felt conflicted. She also agreed with Bruce; they weren’t killers and who would they be if they started to be? They were supposed to be better than them, they were supposed to give Gotham something good to believe in. But Jason was right, their system was flawed. She noticed that within her first few nights patrolling the streets as a string of murders haunted the East End. They caught him of course but he only lasted a few weeks in Arkham before escaping. Their culprit had been Victor Zsasz, and his methods of killing had been a little more horrifying than Halley would care to admit. In her many years of being paid to kill people she’d never seen anything quite like the mess they walked in.

Frowning deeper, seeing Jason now staring out the window blankly, she made a decision. She’d talk to Bruce tonight about her concerns and she’d stick up for Jason’s actions last night; it’s not like anyone else did.

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