#so if I’m like. dead silent and or straight up disappear off th face of the earth it’s bc of that lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcfreakin-bxtch · 3 years

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Playing with Fire

Part Five of the Just this Once Series

Warnings: Smut (no actual smut tho guys sorry), Masturbation (f), Teasing, Language, Dirty talk, Terrible Star Wars knowledge

Word Count: 2.3K+

Summary: A tease through the links and a bet fulfilled.

A/N: This chapter is a little short, but I hope you all enjoy! This may seem a little anti climatic and messy but that’s on me guys, that’s my bad. Also this may seem different in tone if that makes sense? The next one will be more smutty goodness but with some injuries (and yes i used another random star wars planet don’t kill mee)

You’ve finally figured it out.

After about a week of travelling to your next destination, it finally occurs to you to just play at his own game. You know—fingering you in a crowded cantina, smirking to himself while you struggled to stay quiet in that fucking booth...

But first, you must say that Edis is a strange place. Rain falling at every hour with apparently no signs of ever letting up, and the humidity is unforgiving—how Mando is handling it in all that armor and padding, you’re almost too afraid to ask, because there’s just no way that he’s comfortable, and an uncomfortable Mando can lead to a grumpy one.

Maker you’re grumpy yourself if you’re being honest. The Child has been restless lately, like the heat is getting to him as well, and that’s been taking a toll on your (already) poor sleep schedule; Mando tries to help, but there’s only so much he can do. However, it has given you the chance to think of the perfect payback for your little deal—or bet is a better word—and you gotta say, you’re a little proud of yourself for coming up with this evil—and small—tryst in the first place.

If it’ll work the way you want it to, time will tell.

“Were you even listening?”

The modulated crackle startles you from your thoughts. You turn in the pilot’s seat, making contact with the visor and the stiffness of his posture confirms your suspicions—he’s hot and grumpy.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Lost in my thoughts.”

He doesn’t acknowledge it. “I’m leaving. They should be nearby, and everything should work out as long as you and the ship stay hidden.”

Like anyone could. Mando isn’t messing around on this one—well, the man doesn’t mess around with anything, actually—and he’s made damn sure that not only are you available with a few weapons nearby (some hidden, of course, just in case), but that the Razor Crest is shadowed by towering trees a bushes in this small part of the rainforest; it’s nearly impossible to even see the gunk through the one of the thickest part of the forest. If anything finds you, they most likely won’t come back alive.

“Okay. Good luck.”

He gives you one nod and the cape whips as he turns around, strutting towards the ladder as you follow behind. Mando checks on the kid—sitting up in the middle of the haul with a few little toys surrounding him—and gives him a gentle caress of his floppy ear before using his vambrace to open the ramp. He doesn’t give you a glance back, and that’s okay with you, but you can’t deny the slight stinging in your chest when he disappears into the foreign planet.

“Alright little guy,” you say with a grunt as you plop down on the floor next to the Child. “Let’s figure out what to do.”

***

Ten days.

Mando has been gone longer on bounties like this, believe or not, but that still doesn’t ease your increasing anxiety when the com link stays silent; you suppose you’re used to the quickness of his updates.

Today, after hours of entertaining the baby the best you could, you can finally settle comfortably in the pilot’s chair… but now what?

Sleep, your body says, because what else is there really to do? Don’t, your mind tells you, because you have the baby here alone on an unfamiliar planet and anything could happen. A part of you wants to go out and check the foreign terrain. One look shouldn’t hurt—

“Hey,” his voice speaks through in statics.

You quickly fumble with the com, feeling like a clumsy mess when you almost drop it in your haste; he’s caught you by surprise, for about the hundredth time.

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m here,” you stammer.

“Not so close,” he tells you, annoyed and tired.

You wince and pull your hand back from your mouth. “Sorry. Good news, I hope?”

“Yes. And no. It’ll be at least a few days before we’re out of here.”

That sucks.

You suspect that the quarry is indeed with him by the short words, and that’s okay, because with your plan now in the front of your brain, fresh anew like the first time you cococked it in the wake of sleep, washing your quick irritation away, your chance is finally here.

“Mando,” you say as sweetly as you can—your heart skips a beat when there’s a moment of silence. “They can’t hear me, right?” you continue before you can find out if the com is dead or not.

This is incredibly risky. Even a little unfair of sorts, given that he’s technically working right now, and that leaves no room for games or distractions—the moment is just too good to pass up.

Another minute goes by. You sink in your chair in disappointment, ready to admit defeat.

“Not now.”

Yes.

“This was part of the deal, Mando,” you remind him. “And I’m already starting to get wet.”

That isn’t a lie. The slickness of your arousal is starting to seep from your core—fourteen days (counting the week it took to get here) is a long time, and as long as you can get him to keep talking, this will work beautifully for you.

A pause. “I can’t…”

“I’ll do all the talking,” you lick your lips and slink down comfortably, sliding your hand along the length of your neck, imagining it’s his hand wrapping around your throat. “You just listen. You can do that, can’t you?”

You wait, and for a split second you’re afraid that, yet again, you’ve done something wrong. You really have to start working on that.

“You don’t—”

“Okay.”

Maker. Maker okay.

“I uh—” what were you going to say to him when you thought of this in the first place? “I… you know what I think about when you’re gone?” You know he can’t answer much, not without giving himself away, but you pause anyway for dramatic effect. “First, I imagine you stalking towards me like you always do… like I’m one of your bounties.”

Your pussy quivers in excitement as you close your eyes and picture him doing just that, sliding your hand down to your chest, groping your covered breast and trying to mimic the same amount of pressure he applies to them—you really wish it was his hand instead.

“Then you cage me in, leaving me with nowhere to go. There’s a specific type of exceleration to it. One that makes things even more… exciting.” You pinch your nipple and whine, loud enough to give him a good show—Stars you hope that quarry can’t hear you through the baskar bucket of his. “You like to drag it out, to watch me shiver in anticipation, and fuck if I don’t like it either.”

You can hear the light breathing through the comlink. A spark of victory, early victory, runs through your body and straight to your pussy, neglected and hungry for any type of friction.

“And then,” your hand slides further down to the waistline of your pants, fumbling with the buttons. “You touch me. Softly, at first, because you love to tease—” a barely audible sigh interrupts, bringing a cheeky grin to your lips. “—and I think you’re an ass man, because you never miss a chance to lay your hands on mine.” Your fingers slither their way under your panties; your inner thighs twitch at the first brush of your finger against your aching clit, and more slickness escapes your cunt. “And you ghost your fingers over my breasts, down my stomach, over my hips where you like to grip them tight, to my dripping pussy…”

Not a peep from the com. You’re surprised he’s kept his composure. You shouldn’t be, yet a part of you is.

“And,” you go on with a moan. “When I feel your thick fingers paw at me, rip my clothes off and fuck my pussy deep, getting me ready for your big cock while your teeth scrapes against my neck—oh fuck…” The curse slips from your lips without warrant; your fingers buried in your pussy like you’re explaining to him. “My fingers are not the same—” you bite down on your lip as you curve your fingers, delicately trying to find the spot Mando finds with precision. “They don’t make me feel as full as yours do. But I’m still fucking myself with them, Mando. While you’re out there, and I’m in here… it sucks, doesn’t it. Having to stay quiet when all’s you want to do is fuck me until I can feel you for days and day after, your cum leaking from me, and who knows, maybe I won’t even let you cum.”

“You will,” he nearly growls, and that’s an early sign you’re in a world of trouble when he does get back. “That’s part of the deal.”

“...What...deal…”

The faint voice cuts in annoyingly, and Mando shoots back with a decent threat that’d make you terrified for your life; again, it’s probably wrong that it does nothing to deteriorate the fluttering of your wet muscles.

“Keep going,” his tone leaves no room for argument.

Your fingers move faster. “I think you should be a little nicer to me,” you sigh dramatically. “You’ve been gone for so long, leaving me all by lonesome… you like to do this a lot I’ve realized, leave me high and dry. But you might have a chance to fuck my face if you’re a good boy.”

You have to stifle your giggle at the last bit.

“Yeah, you’d like that,” you coo. “And I’d swallow every drop.”

A barely audible exhale filters through the link. You’re right there with him, your face scrunched in concentration.

“I’m happy as long as you’re inside me,” you continue on with delight. “You’re an asshole sometimes, but you can fuck.”

Mando sighs again, this time feigned with theatorical frustration—well in his case, it may be truthful, but it sounds more for the quarry’s (and yours) benefit than the latter.

This is more of an ego boost for him more than anything as well, if you think about it, but as long as you get him riled up and you cum, that’s enough for you. So you curve your fingers the best you can given the compromised position and flick your thumb against your clit, images of his gloves sliding down your pants in the cantina playing through on repeat. This time you moan louder for your own amusement, imagining him struggle; it’s sweet, sweet revenge.

“And?” He asks suddenly—calm and steady.

His voice, even modulated like that, makes your muscles twitch as the coil in your lower stomach boils to a tight flame, and the sloshes of your fingers slinking in and out of you adds to the euphoria clawing through your core.

“Your cock,” you whimper. “Stretches me out so good every time. You’re so big, Mando, so thick in every way and it feels amazing. I bet you miss the way my sweet cunt clenches around you.” You bite down on your lip to hide a groan, wanting to hear his response as your fingers move even faster, scratching against the itch. “Don’t you?”

Your pussy flutters around your fingers at the first scrape against your sweet spot (finally!), and—well fuck, you’ve never seen much of him to actually picture what his cock looks like driving in and out of you at the verioucious pace he usually chooses, so this is a little bit difficult than you thought it’d be; as long as you keep fucking yourself like this…

“Yes.”

Your breath shakes as you exhale. “Shit I wish you were here right now,” you rub your clit harder. “I-I want you to fuck me so hard when you get back, Mando. Want you to—hmm—to grab me so hard that I have bruises the next day. Use me. And you’d come right in my tight little pussy, isn’t that right?”

You don’t expect him to answer this time. Not when you’re so gone in your little cheraid and your pussy clenches harder and harder until there’s nothing but white noise tying you down to this moment.

“Fuck. Fuck I’m so close.”

You try to conjure the feelings Mando gives you—the feel of his hands, pressing down all over you, fingers leaving indents in your skin, his mouth on your neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh until you’re marked; the drag of his cock along your slick walls until there’s tears in your eyes and you can feel him all the way to your cervix.

“Mando,” you whine, then bite down on your lip again; the Child certainly doesn’t need to hear this. “I… I need to hear you. Say something, anything.”

“Go ahead,” gruffer, close to a grunt—your pussy gushes at that. “Now.”

The command is clear, and it’s not going to take you that much to ride the waves of your orgasm starting to crash down over you. Your moans and whimpers trapped behind tight closed lips and your fingers covered in your juices, it takes a few more curves of your fingers and tight circles on your clit to feel the hard and delectable clench of your inner muscles.

“Yes,” your body trembles. “Oh Ma—” You hide the rest of the plea behind a muffled scream as short bursts of pleasure sparks through your entire body, your fingers trapped in the squeeze of your cunt as more juices flood down the slope of your ass, milking every drop of your orgasm.

After a few long moments your tense muscles relax and deflate, relieved and satisfied. Though, the only problem is that it is short lived, an orgasm small enough to hold you over until the real deal comes back. Speaking of…

“Mando?” You breathe. “Still with me?”

“I’ll be there soon. Be ready.” And then nothing.

Chuckling to yourself, you wince as you slowly pull your fingers out, wiping your slick covered fingers on your pants.

And now you wait.

For however long that’ll fucking be.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fanfic #the mandalorian imagines #pedro pascal

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

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Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter V

While exploring Keycatrich Trench, (Y/n) kept her lips sealed as she listened to the boy's banter back and forth. She walked a little ahead of the group, curious to learn the layout of the area and locate the royal tomb as quick as possible.

After having located a generator and activating it, the guardian overheard Ignis scold Prompto. "Tis impertinent to ogle, Prompto."

The younger boy blinked, not realizing he'd been staring at (Y/n). "I-I, uh...was staring?"

"Quite intently," the advisor said.

"Can't blame the kid for staring," Gladio said, meeting Ignis' gaze. "It's your fault, Iggy."

"Do pray tell."

"For hiding (Y/n)."

Said girl rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm standing right here." She placed a hand on her hip. "And nothing's Iggy's fault. He wasn't hiding me from anyone. He was simply respecting my wishes. I'm...very shy and get embarrassed rather easily."

"We can tell," the shield chuckled. "Your cheeks are turning red."

She quickly turned away, scrunching up her shoulders. She nibbles on her bottom lip, wondering how to retort. However, she didn't need to say anything because Prompto came to her rescue. "H-Hey, that's okay! There's nothing wrong with being shy! I mean, even I'm shy from time to time."

(Y/n) pushed past her shyness and smiled kindly at the marksman. She was thankful for his intervention. "I appreciate your kindness, Prompto."

His own cheeks turned red. "Y-Yeah, of course."

Continuing through the tunnels, they tried different branching paths. Many of the metal doors were locked and resulted in them to travel deeper. Exploring one of the main tunnels, Prompto suddenly shouted in fright when the faint echo of 'clinking' could be heard. His eyes bounced around in desperation, trying to locate the source of the sound. "What was that?!"

"My bad. Kicked a can," Gladio explained with a faint smirk.

Prompto glared at him. "You are killing me here, big guy! Are you trying to give me a heart attack here or somethin'?!"

"It is rather dark in these tunnels even with the generator on," (Y/n) commented.

"Think there's something in here with us?" Noctis asked her.

"It's a dark, musty system of tunnels. Of course there's something in here with us."

"Can you two please stop?" Prompto whined.

The prince shrugged his shoulders. "Not like you haven't fought daemons before."

"No, but I don't wanna think about what's in here with us! My imagination will go wild and freak me out even more!"

Noctis continued to lead them through Keycatrich Trench. (Y/n) walked behind the prince with Ignis beside her. The two could feel Prompto and Gladio staring at them, but they ignored the eyes boring into their backs. The guardian was tempted to transform after becoming uncomfortable because of the boys' staring and scrunched up the hem of her dress in her fists.

Ignis noticed this when she unconsciously took a step towards him. One of her shy habits is to walk closer to him when she felt uneasy. He adjusted his glasses and peered over his shoulder at the two boys walking behind him. "Is something the matter, gentlemen?"

"Oh, I've got tons of questions," Gladio remarked. "And none of them are for you, Iggy."

"Same here," Prompto muttered.

"I'm positive (Y/n) will answer any and all questions you so desire to ask," Ignis replied. "Gawking will get you no answers."

The sapphire-eyed girl glanced over her shoulder at Prompto and Gladio. "Yes, ask me anything. But do cease staring. It's making me uncomfortable."

"Sorry," the shield apologized. "Still in shock at seeing what you really look like after all these years. I'm not used to seeing a woman hanging around Iggy, only a white fluff ball. Now I understand why he refused to let me set him up with any woman. He had you all to himself."

(Y/n) pauses her stride and turned to face the brute. "Iggy and I aren't an item. Perhaps your taste in women is why he refused to let you set him up on a date."

"So you'd be okay with him being with another woman?" Gladio came to a stop directly in front of her. He couldn't read her stoic expression and was trying to figure out if what he detected between the two was indeed unspoken feelings.

She lowered her head with a sigh. "If he's happy, I don't care who he's with. If he ever needs me, I'll be there. And if I prove to be a hindrance for him and prevent him from doing what he wants, I will leave so he can be happy."

All four boys stopped at her declaration. Ignis and Prompto were wide-eyed while Gladio and Noctis only blinked in surprise. The marksman stepped forward and nearly stumbled over his own feet. "B-But what about your own happiness, (Y/n)? I know you're Iggy's guardian and all, but don't you deserve to be happy too?"

"A guardian's duty is to protect the soul that which gave them life and ensure their happiness. If Ignis can only achieve happiness when I'm gone, then so be it. There's no room for my own happiness." She hung her head, hiding her face with her (h/c) locks. "May we drop this subject? I don't want to talk about it anymore." Walking ahead, she left the boys behind.

Prompto stared sorrowfully at her back as she disappeared deeper into the tunnels. He then looked over at Ignis. "You wouldn't ask her to leave, would you, Iggy?"

"Not even for a moment," the advisor declared strongly, eyes focused on her retreating figure.

Gladio folded his arms across his chest with a smirk. "I'm sensing something between you two. If it's what I think it is, you better get your ass movin', Iggy."

The tactician sighed. He wanted to drop the subject and leave the turmoils of his own heart for another time. His duty was to Noctis and that was all that mattered at the moment. "We've idled too long. Let's proceed forth."

"Right..." Noctis muttered. He glanced at Ignis and saw his cool composure was still intact as always. There wasn't even a crack. The prince knew his advisor all too well and how he never broadcasted his feelings. He was too occupied with his own duty to him and wouldn't allow his emotions to come into play. Noctis was grateful for what Ignis' has done for him over the years, but he wished he wasn't a robot programmed with one function-to watch over him. Even a straight-laced guy like Ignis deserved his own happiness and Noctis didn't want him to dedicate his entire life to him. One day he will find someone who truly makes him happy and Noctis would be more than overjoyed for him.

The prince wondered if (Y/n) was that special person and all Ignis needed was a push. Maybe this journey wasn't just for him, but for the strategist to finally stop acting like an emotionless robot and see there's more to life than being a royal advisor. From that moment, Noctis decided he would help both Ignis and (Y/n).

Unbeknownst to the prince, Prompto was thinking the same thing. He could see how much Ignis and (Y/n) cared for each other just by watching them together. Even when the guardian wasn't in her human form, he could tell how the two really cared about each other. Alongside his best friend, he would help them find happiness in each other.

Pushing their thoughts aside, Noctis and Prompto went after (Y/n) with Gladio and Ignis close behind. They followed the tunnel until they entered a room with a metal door. Looking around, they didn't find the girl anywhere. Prompto approaches the metal door to open it, but he screamed and retracted his hand when something beats on the other side of the door and leaves a large dent.

"What is it?" Ignis asked.

Prompto shook his head with a shaky voice. "I-I don't know. Maybe it was (Y/n)."

"Doubtful," Gladio scoffed.

"You never know!"

"What would be the point in her trying to scare us?"

"Maybe you pissed her off."

"(Y/n) would never pull such a petty stunt if she were angered," Ignis stated.

Gladio chortled. "Sounds like you've experienced her anger first-hand."

"On a few occasions I have witnessed her fury."

"Oh, yeah? What's she like?" Noctis pried.

"A frigid, silent anger that strikes fear in your being with a single glance from her. It's as if she freezes your blood from inside your body."

"Damn..." Gladio mumbled. "Now I wanna see her pissed off."

"She did frighten one of the parliament members quite terribly to the point of him retracting his proposal and resigning from his position," Ignis said.

"Wait, are you talking about Councilman Tenmus?" The prince asked.

"One and the same."

"I hated that guy..."

"Who didn't?" Gladio asked. "(Y/n) did all of us a favor. She must've been really pissed if she showed herself to him."

Ignis smirked at the memory. "She was quite livid with the man for his taxation statement. His sudden resignation was a welcomed surprise."

Noctis' chuckles. "I'll say. We better find her. We might need to scare off even more people..."

Eventually, the boys stumbled across a collapsed tunnel. They crouch to proceed through the small opening from the partially collapsed tunnel off to one side of the main tunnel. "First time through here, right?" Prompto asked.

"Looks it," Gladio responded. He followed behind the blonde and felt something cold on the wall. Looking towards the spot, he saw a patch of ice. "Seems munchkin came this way too."

"Think she handled the daemons already?" Prompto asked.

"She can kick ass without us. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already wiped out most of the daemons in these tunnels."

Exiting the small opening, the boys turn right at the next tunnel and follow it to the end. Ignis looked around with a huff. "A dead end."

"I could've sworn this was it..." Prompto mumbled.

Suddenly, the lights powered by the generator go out. Gladio looked around in confusion. "The hell?"

"Somebody...turn on a light!"

The four turn on their flashlights to find themselves under attack by goblins. The small daemons launches themselves at the boys, but each one screamed out in pain as a barrage of icicles pierced their bodies and killed them instantly. They each fell to the ground before their bodies vanished into nothingness. From behind the dead daemons, a figure emerged from the darkness. "The generator ran out of gas," (Y/n) stated. "Looks like we're stuck with only flashlights."

"Where'd you run off to?" Noctis inquired.

"We are here for a royal tomb, are we not?" She remarked. "I was looking for it."

"So you really weren't trying to scare us earlier?" Prompto asked.

She arched a brow. "Scare you? Why would I do that?"

"N-No reason!"

She eyed him curiously before shaking her head. "Anyway, I think I found another path. Follow me."

The boys followed the guardian down the opposite end of the tunnel. There, they pass through a narrow opening between two nearly closed blast doors into another tunnel. With a new path revealed, they located another generator. Noctis started it and deactivated his flashlight when he saw the lights in the tunnel flicker on. More goblins manifest and attack, but they were weak and stood no chance against the group.

Proceeding forth, the group comes across a pair of unlocked metal doors at the other end of this tunnel and heard a sound like a faucet turning as they walk through. Prompto looked around at his friends. "Wait. Hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything," Noctis replied.

"I heard it," (Y/n) said. "Are we going to check it out?"

"I think you two are just hearing things."

"Dude, we're not paranoid," Prompto remarked.

Walking through a door on the other side of the room, they find what appears to be a locker room with showers, but there's no one else in the room. "Nothing," Prompto muttered.

"That's weird," Gladio commented.

"I do believe we are being toyed with," Ignis said.

"You sayin' daemons are messing with us?"

"Smaller daemons, especially goblins and imps, have a somewhat playful mannerism and tend to toy with their prey before attacking," (Y/n) said.

"Well, that explains why we're hearing all these weird noises..." Prompto murmured.

Returning to the previous room, Noctis and the others are ambushed by a group of tarantula daemons. Prompto summoned his pistol and shot at the adversaries. "These are not the type of bad guys I like to fight."

Gladio swung his greatsword while asking, "What type do you like to fight?"

"None, now that you mention it."

(Y/n) killed the last tarantula daemon with a minuscule ice spell, pinning its body to the wall with an icicle. Gladio, who was standing beside her, grinned. "You trying to redecorate the place?"

"With daemon corpses? They don't last very long," she replied. "Besides, this place is gonna need a little more than redecorating to get rid of this dreary atmosphere. Maybe some ice could help."

The brute huffed out a chuckle at her playful banter. He was glad she was working past her shyness and joining in his playfulness. He dispelled his greatsword as he and the others approach another pair of metal doors in the room. Prompto eyes the doors with a slightly giddy grin. "Ooh, this looks promising."

"In an ominous sort of way," Gladio said.

"Stay sharp," Ignis advised.

After passing through the doors, then a short tunnel, and then yet another pair of metal doors, they enter what appears to be a wide, open storage room. As they step across the middle of the room, an arachne daemon descends from above and attacks.

"No way we're taking that thing on!" Prompto wailed.

"No turning back," Gladio said.

Noctis summoned his sword. "Nope."

The arachne daemon proved to be no obstacle. The group easily slew it and continued through Keycatrich Trench. They locate another small passage that requires them to crouch. After crouching, moving through the small passage into the next tunnel, and making their way to the next intersection, Gladio takes notice of something down the path to the left. "Huh? The hell?"

(Y/n) looked toward what had the shield's attention and spotted the doors to the next royal tomb they'd been searching for. Noctis also saw the royal tomb and makes his way over. He unlocks the doors to the Tomb of the Conqueror and they slide open. Stepping inside, the prince claims the Axe of the Conqueror. When he stepped out of the royal tomb with his newly claimed ancestral arm in his arsenal, Prompto asked, "So, Noct borrows the old kings' powers?"

"More or less," Ignis replied. "At this rate, he'll soon rival his father's legacy."

""The Copycat King"," Gladio mocked.

Noctis glared weakly at the brute. "Out of line."

"Well? What's it like?" The sharpshooter questioned.

"Hmm..." The prince glanced down at his hands and flexed his fingers. "Like I've got some tricks up my sleeve."

Gladio stuck his hands up in the air. "No need to put on a magic show for us."

"But it never hurt to practice," Ignis added.

"Guess not." Noctis tugged on the fringe of his hair. "Any idea on this conduit we're supposed to find?"

All eyes fell on (Y/n). She bashfully blinked and looked around at the boys. "Wh-Why're you all looking at me?"

"You're the guardian here and Cor said the conduit was one of your people."

"Th-That doesn't mean I know who or what this conduit is capable of..." She cleared her throat. "But I will do my best as a guardian to help you find the conduit. It's easier to speak to my people if I'm with you. The only humans spirits trust are their masters. Luckily, my people are easy to pick out in a crowd. Let's just hope the empire hasn't gotten to the conduit yet."

"Wait, if the empire doesn't know who the conduit is, won't they come after you, (Y/n)?" Prompto asked.

She nodded calmly. "Most likely."

"Eh, she's got nothing to worry about," Noctis said.

The marksman nodded with a wide smile. "That's right! You've got us, (Y/n)!"

"Pretty sure the lady can handle herself in a skirmish, Casanova," Gladio stated.

"I know, but we'll be there for her too!"

(Y/n)'s eyes widen in shock. She glanced around at the boys and saw them all smiling at her. She didn't expect to fit into their merry band this quick, but she was happy to already being closer to Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio. She was already tied to Ignis with the red string of fate and was looking forward to growing closer with the other boys after knowing them for years now. Smiling back, she giggled. "And I'll be here for each and every one of you."

With that, the group left Keycatrich Trench. Back at the entrance to the tunnel system, Noctis' cell phone rings and he promptly answers. "Yeah?"

"Finally picked up. Thought I'd lost another king," Cor responded on the other end.

"Just busy building my arsenal."

"Good to hear. I have a task for you. The empire's begun construction of a new base, along the road west to Duscae. I need you to put it out of commission. If left unchecked, it will cost us access to the west-and all the royal tombs that lie beyond. I believe you've met Monica. She can fill you in on the details. Go see her."

Noctis hung up, putting his phone back into his pocket. Prompto glanced over at him, wondering who called. "What's up?"

"People to see, bases to burn. Let's go see Monica at the outpost," Noctis replied.

"Come to think of it, we did spy a large structure," Ignis said.

"Yeah, hard to miss an ominous thing like that."

"Ain't gonna be easy takin' down a whole stronghold," Gladio claimed.

Prompto fiddled with his gloves. "Can we really do this?"

"The marshal believes we can, or he wouldn't have asked us. But first things first," the advisor started.

Noctis nodded. "Right. Let's head back to the outpost."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #ignis scientia x reader

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jordanstrophe · 3 years

Text

Going Once, Going Twice, part 13

Peter finally getting nice things and fluff for once

CW: Pet whumpee, social anxiety, mention of past trauma, recovering from strangulation implied.

Masterlist

Robert sat at the kitchen table surrounded by boxes. He held the letter in his hand, the other held his hair back as he stared. Lukar slipped into the kitchen, hoisting down another box into the pile with a grunt.

“That's the last for the living room.” He smiled. “Thank you.” Robert murmured. Lukar’s eyes darted down to the letter in his hands, he opened his mouth to say something, but decided it would be wiser to be silent.

Robert slapped the letter shut, stuffing it into his coat pocket. “I’m taking Peter out today while the movers come. I don’t want them to frighten him, so I’ll just take him for a drive.” He said. “That sounds like a good plan. How’s he doing?” Lukar asked.

“He’s... I don’t know. Sometimes he’s okay, then in a flash he’s not. He gets scared if I’m not around.” He glanced at the bedroom door where he was resting.

“Separation anxiety?” Lukar asked. “Oh yeah." Robert sighed, he didn’t even know the half of it.

The door slowly creaked open, as Peter quietly slipped out. He looked like he just woken up, his neck still horribly bruised and black. He froze, startling himself when he glanced up realizing Lukar was there. Peter blinked up at him with a flinch, a hint of fear, as Lukar tried to give him a comforting harmless smile. He mindlessly wandered over to Robert and faceplanted right into his chest with a bump, as Robert chuckled, wrapping his arms around him, pulling his coat up around his shoulders.

“Ready for that adventure?” Robert asked, trying to make it sound fun and exciting. Peter wordlessly nodded into his chest. “Oookkaay!” Robert cheered, turning him around and steering him out the door. He mouthed another thank you to Lukar as he passed, who nodded.

Robert drove down the street, passing endless shops and stores. He glanced around, trying to find someplace that looked fun, yet simple. Peter kept glancing between looking out the window, and looking up at Robert, just making sure he was still there and didn’t magically disappear.

“If anyplace looks fun, just let me know, okay? We’ll go anywhere you want.” He smiled. Robert thinks he may have heard a murmur of acknowledgment, but it could have also just been the tires humming. “Oh! How about this place! They have fun drinks there.” He smiled, turning into a parking lot. “No ice.” Peter murmured. “Yep! No ice.” He chuckled, giving his hair a ruffle as he helped him unbuckle the seat. Peter hated ice in any of his drinks, especially large ice cubes, as it “ruined” the flavor.

Peter immediately latched onto his arm like a leech as soon as he opened the car door for him, walking him to the store entrance. He made sure to be there at a time with hardly any people. Robert held his arm almost as hard back, he wasn’t the only one who got a bit traumatized back at the pet party, having him constantly ripped from his grasp was terrifying. He was always paranoid it was going to happen again.

The place was empty, aside from a very bored looking cashier leaning against her elbow. Peter slid behind Robert’s arm, looking up at him nervously.

“It’s okay, just look at the pictures up there and tell me what you want. Anything you want.” He smiled. “Mmm.” Peter whimpered, glancing up at all the drinks and food. He stood there for a good long while, having to study every single thing on the entire menu, then back again incase he missed something. Robert glanced around tiredly, as Peter tensed up, realizing he was being a drag.

“Th-that one?” He nervously asked, tugging his sleeve while blindly pointing randomly, not even directly pointing at anything in particular.

“What one?” Robert squinted, trying to follow his finger. He let out an exhale when he realized what he was doing. He gave him a pat on the head before walking them up to the counter.

“Hi, can I get one of... Everything?” Robert smiled awkwardly.

“What?” The woman asked.

“What?!” Peter gasped, tugging his sleeve.

“Is that what I actually pointed at?!” He cried out in guilt, viscously tugging his sleeve, almost pulling his jacket off. Robert shushed him, taking his arm back in yes.

“No ice for the drinks please.” He smiled.

“If you’re serious then it’s going to be a bit.” She said.

“... Can we have the drinks now then?” He asked.

The woman sighed, rubbing her temples. She grabbed a cup and filled it up, hardly anyone asks for no ice, so her instinct was to also grab a scoopful of ice.

“NO!” Robert yelled, slamming the palm of his hand on the counter. “He HATES ice!” He hissed. They both looked up at him, as he brushed his jacket off, chuckling nervously, clearing his throat. “S-sorry... I mean, no ice, please...”

“Is he your only child?” The woman asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Yeah, he is.” He smiled proudly, Peter looked up at him with a head tilt, a puzzled look on his face. Robert pulled a chair out for him, taking his chin and tilting his head up to get a look at his neck. “How do you feel? Holding up okay?” He asked. “I’m okay.” He mumbled, pulling his collar up to try and hide it. Robert sat across from him so he could take his hand. Guilt was hammered into his chest since that night, since he failed as a pare-... Master. Since he failed as a master. Who was he kidding, he never saw Peter as a Pet of all things. He though he almost never spoke, skittish and nervous all the time. But that wasn’t Peter's fault. It couldn’t be. He had to remind himself Peter had an owner before him, a horrible cruel one, but he never wanted to pry. It didn’t feel right, but curiosity ate him up sometimes.

“Hey sweetheart...” Robert asked, as Peter glanced up at him expectantly.

“Am I... Doing okay? Are you happy with me?” He asked.

Peter’s eyes went wide, as he squeezed Robert’s hand back. Robert was almost too guilty to look him in the eyes. He knew he was doing the best he could, but he also felt like this whole adventure has been a mess since day one. He averted eye contact, until he finally hit some courage to look him in the face when he gave his answer. When he glanced over, to his surprise, Peter was sitting up unusually straight with posture, looking him dead in the eye with a small smile.

“You’re doing great.” He smiled, giving him the sweetest expression to show he was genuine. “I know I’m a handful.” He smirked, covering half his face with a hand.

“No! No you’re not a handful! I’m just... Terrified something’s going to happen to you.” He trailed off. “Something already happened to you though, hasn't t it?” He muttered, eyes falling down to his neck.

“Master... You know I’m used to this, right?” He asked.

“What?” Robert breathed, eyes shooting open.

“I’m a Pet. I’m a rehomed Pet. I never usually talk about it because it feel inappropriate to talk about to my new master, but... What happened is nothing worse then what I’ve already been through.” He said, leaning his head on the palm of his hand.

Robert knew that. He knew he had been through stuff like that before, but it didn’t make him any less horrified to hear it with his own ears.

They both fell silent when endless trays of food was piled into the table.

“I hope you have cash for all this...” The woman smirked as she walked passed. “Yeah yeah, I’ll even give you a tip.” He chuckled, turning his attention back to Peter, who was happily sipping in a drink.

“Are you excited for the new place?” He asked, trying to get a nice happy topic.

“Yes, if you get your own room.” He gave him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh rub it in will ya!” Robert laughed.

It was unusual to have this much of a normal conversation with him. It was a rare time were he would openly show his true colors. Maybe today was a good sign that he was opening up a bit more. Hopefully at the new place, where he had his own space he would flourish.

“Hey! There’s a garden area not far from here, it’s nice outside, why don’t we take the ice cream and go explore down there? There are benches we can sit at that’s surrounded by flowers.” Robert jumped to his feet, paying for the meal.

“Mmph!” Peter let out an excited squeak with a spoon still in his mouth, as he carried the ice cream and followed him.

The garden was even more beautiful then he had remembered it. Vines flowing from the overhands, colorful flowerpots lining the brick walkway, the bench warm from the sun. Peter leaned against Robert's shoulder as they excitedly planned for the new home.

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @moose-teeth @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @yet-another-heathen @sillypizzazineoperator @freefallingup13 @alien-octopus @unicornscotty @whumpzone @penny-for-your-whump @girlwithnoballons242 @whumpingredroses @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @cupcakes-and-pain @thinkingofausername

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

(Seasons do not exist in this world. It is WARM today, okay? Okay.”

#He's a very passionate anti-ice advocate.#pet whumpee #whump #caretaker #parental caretaker #tw strangulation #protective caretaker #recovering whumpee

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daydreamingintheimpalax · 4 years

Text

Her Safe Place.

Summary: When you witness something that breaks your heart, you don't know what to do, but one thing you know for sure if you can't stay, so you go to the one place that always feels like home, your safe place.

Dean X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, possible Mentions of verbal abuse, cheating, swearing.

Prompt: “I didn’t know where to go.” & “Stay here, Please don't leave, not again.”

Your mascara ran down your face, the red lipstick from earlier long gone, the curls in your hair no longer intact as the rain poured down on you, you didn't seem bothered, at this point, you couldn't tell the difference between the rain on your face or the tears you shed. It was a humid night for February, but that was one of the perks of living in a place that was always hot, it rarely ever got cold and it sure never snowed here.

You walked through the humid sticky air, your heels hitting the pavement as you made your way back to the place you no longer called home, prepared to fully walk away from everything you had known for the last five years, he'd thrown it all away, for nothing.

February 14th, a day you used to love, you'd go all out, dress to the nines, makeup to perfection, a hot home cooked meal, always his favorite, and for what? a man who hadn't appreciated the efforts you went to in over three years.

Jason had been perfect, he was your high school sweetheart, you'd met him through Dean, your best friend, family friend, you'd known him for years. Jason had been his buddy, or more so a hunting buddy, his father had ran in circles with Jason’s own parents. You'd fallen for him and fallen hard and at the time, Jason had fallen right back. You two had become the talk of the hunting world, the first couple to have made it this long in a very long time. Hunters didn't have relationships, they didn't settle down, and when you and Jason chose to retire hunting, live a happy apple pie life as you got older, hunters were surprised but happy for you two, Almost the entire hunting community had been at your wedding when you had decided it was time to get married almost five years ago.

It was all perfect, your happy perfect life, until two years ago, when Jason started drifting, he'd gotten colder, distant, and you didn't know what you did wrong. The last time you had spoken to Dean or any of your friends had been over five years ago, since your wedding, you hadn't even noticed when Jason had started alienating you from your own life.

A Few Hours Earlier.

Tonight was supposed to be perfect, another Valentine's day, just short of your 7 year anniversary, it was supposed to be special, you'd called Jason three times, he hadn't answered but you knew for the last year he'd been helping some old hunter friends out on hunts here and there, he'd missed hunting and they offered to pay him, so you remained the supportive wife, worrying for his safety since he was slightly out of practice, but you remained silent and just supported his decision. You expected he'd be running a little late per usual but you didn't fret, instead, you focused on preparing dinner, getting yourself dressed and awaited his arrival home, ready to welcome him with open arms.

You hadn't expected him to waltz by you without so much as a hello, not one ounce of recognition of what day it was or even noticing how you looked. Heading straight for the shower, you let him be, assuming he was just tired or the hunt had gone badly and he was upset, hoping the dinner would comfort him when he came back, only, he never came back, he strolled past you, mumbling a simple “m’going to the bar, be home late, don't wait up" and then he was gone, barely having looked your way once.

You felt betrayed, unloved, un-cared for. This wasn't the man you had fallen deeply in love with years ago, this was someone cold, the man you knew loved you, he was loving, and warm and loved affection, he'd told you everyday how beautiful you were, this man was a stranger. Tears threatened to fall but you held it in, cleaning up the kitchen before wrapping up the lovely dinner you'd made and tucking it into the fridge. Two hours after, you made the silly decision to go after him, hoping maybe you could sway him to come home, to at least make whatever was left of the night memorable.

You weren't expecting what you saw when you had walked into that bar, Jason was wrapped around some small waist blonde, her lips all over his and they pressed up against each other enough, you'd think they were having sex right there. You moved closer, trying to keep cool so you wouldn't do anything you regretted, then, you heard the words that would forever be engraved into your brain, the words that ended your marriage right on the spot.

“What about your wife, shouldn't you be home with her?” the blonde practically moaned as she spoke, his lips travelling her neck and collarbone.

He chuckled against her skin, “What y/n? Nah, she's just the bitch I keep at home, it's like having a personal maid, free labor and all,” He chuckles, his tongue peeking out to lick her skin, “I’d let the bitch go if I thought for a second she could survive on her own, she's nothing but a little slut, she'd give it up to anyone who gave her a bit of attention, no one else wants the fat cow anyways, I'm all she's got, the pathetic skank.” The blonde giggles in his arms, before she's wanked away from him by the hair, a high pitch scream practically catching the attention of everyone in the bar.

“You bitch!!” she seethes and you shut her up with a simple hand, “I’m not here for you, I could care less about my husband's little whore.” You shout, ignoring her and turning to the man you once called the love of your life.

No longer holding back, now knowing what all those late night hunts where, the nights he didn't come home at all, the nights he came home smelling of perfume before telling you it must have come from the victims he'd saved, when they hugged him out of gratitude, it was a lie, your whole marriage had been a lie. He never loved you, he made a fool out of you and tonight, and every night for the last year, tonight was the last time he'd ever make you the fool ever again.

Your hand reached out, your fist hitting Jason so hard, you practically heard his nose crack. A line of course words left his lips but you didn't catch them between your own seething words.

“You're the biggest piece of shit I've ever had to be blessed knowing. If you think for one second, I'm going back to our home, or cooking you one more God damn meal, or putting up with one more night of three minutes of the worst sex I've ever had ever again, you are DEAD fucking wrong Jason!, you better pray that Blondie over there likes a small dick and huge ego because that is the only thing you have to offer. I never want to fucking see you again, we're over, I've had enough! GO TO HELL YOU BASTARD!” You shouted, right up in his face you could practically smell the blood pouring from his nose. You tore your ring off your finger, backing up and whipping it at his face. It fell, the sound of it hitting the floor heard in the dead silence currently in the bar as everyone watched the confrontation.

You turned back to the blonde, she was standing there quietly just watching the situation. “He’s all yours, you walking STD bag.” You spoke, shoving past her making sure to hit her shoulder before you walked out of the bar, Jason called after you, mumbling through his bloody nose to try and apologize but you flipped him off, casually shutting him up with the slam of the bar door behind you.

You'd gone home and collected your things, anything you kept and cherished most and packed some clothing, enough to carry but left behind anything you didn't see as a priority, leaving behind anything that reminded you of Jason, you never wanted to see or be reminded of him again. You didn't know what to do, where to go, but you knew one thing, you had to get out, you didn't want to stay, and you sure as hell didn't want to be here when Jason got back, so you walked in the rain, the dry humid sticky heat making it worse but eventually catching the Greyhound out of this shitty town you'd hated. Jason had loved it here, it was where he'd grown up and you'd always hated it, you hadn't known anyone and anyone you did know had been old friends of Jason's, which meant they weren't really your friends. You weren’t leaving anything important behind, so you left without an ounce of guilt.

Before you knew it, you had ended up back in Lebanon, memories of your past flying back into your head. You didn't know where to turn, not sure if anyone would still want you back, you'd abandoned all your friends, no one in this town had heard from you in the last 7 years, he'd managed to make sure of it. You were worried the hunting community would no longer want you, support you. You'd been a shitty friend, and you knew that, you'd turned away everyone who you loved, the people you called family. Before you could think, you kept walking, not sure where you were going but letting your memories lead you somewhere.

When you finally stopped walking, you recognized the big metal door, unknowingly you subconsciously remembered the directions to this place, the place that had been your home for years, your safe place, you'd always felt safe here, happy, remembering all the memories you had here, but would you be welcomed back like you hadn’t disappeared out of their lives for years, would they want to see you. Tears stung your eyes again, as you slowly walked up to the big door, placing your palm softly against the cold metal, you had found your way home.

Sam's brow furrowed as he looked up from the Lore book he'd been concentrated on, he looked over to see if Dean had heard the knock from the kitchen but it seemed he hadn't. He stood, pulling one of the many guns hidden in the bunker from one of the little tables they had in the room before making his way to the door, they didn't have visitors, and when they did, they always called first. No one knew where the bunker was, other than a very selective few that Dean and Sam considered family, Cas, Jack, Jody, Donna, and a few others who'd been close enough to work with them. Whoever was knocking didn't know to call first, but no one would show up out of nowhere here, this wasn't a location that was on any map, so there was no way someone could stumble upon the bunker.

He gently made his way up the stairs, gun at the ready for whatever threat was waiting on the other side, Just as Dean came out of the kitchen telling him dinner was ready, Sam hushed him with a finger, pointing at the door.

“Someone’s knocking.” Sam spoke softly, Dean automatically going into hunter mode, pulling out his own gun, “ Who? Are we expecting anyone?” he asks his brother but Sam shakes his head.

Sam reached out, slowly opening the door, only, you were the last person he expected to see, he hadn't seen you in years, no longer resembling the girl who'd been his best friend his whole life, he almost hadn't recognized you, your hair now black, your face covered by what little makeup it seemed you had left, short little black dress covering the curvy body you had now grown into. You weren't the tiny skinny little light brown haired girl he'd known growing up, you were grown, a woman, but still as beautiful as he remembered, his brother had always secretly loved you, and he remembered how heartbroken Dean had been when you'd walked out of their lives, all the unanswered calls before your number had been disconnected, he'd picked up the broken pieces of his brothers heart, and it completely shattered when he'd learned you married Jason, and here you were, walking back into their lives.

Tears streamed down your face before you spoke, “Heya Sammy, it's been a while.” You sobbed, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your leather jacket.

Sam stood frozen, his eyes raking over you, not believing you were really here. “Y/n...” he whispered, scared his brother would hear, he couldn't handle seeing Dean’s heart break again, and right now, he didn't know how Dean would react to seeing you after all this time, he didn't know if you'd walk out of their lives for a second time or if you were back for good.

“I didn’t know where to go.” You spoke between sobs, hugging yourself on their doorstep, finally, after what felt like an eternity of Sam Winchester's puppy dog eyes staring you down, he reached out, pulling you in for a tight bear hug, his large frame engulfing you.

“I missed you so much.” He spoke, kissing the side of your head as you cried into his shirt. “Missed you too Sammy, I'm so sorry.” You whispered, knowing you'd left them in the dark, no contact, you knew you'd hurt them, they were your family, all you had and you had let Jason take that away.

“No, no, don't be sorry, you're here now, that's all that matters, come inside, it's freezing.” He pulled you inside, the warmth and smell of the bunker reminding you this had been your home for years, not realizing how much you'd missed it until now. You'd missed it so fucking much.

As you walked down the staircase you hadn't seen for so long, your heart stopped and you froze in place when you reached the bottom, there, standing in a grey Henley, sleeves rolled up to his forearms revealing the muscles there, older than you remembered but not any less attractive than you had remembered him, was no other than Dean Winchester. The man who'd plagued your dreams for years when you'd grown up with them, the younger memories of you as a child telling your mother you would marry Dean Winchester one day, her laughter filling the room as she'd told you she'd be proud to have him as a son making their way back into your head.

Dean lowered his gun, his eyes glossing over as he looked at the woman he'd loved for so many years over the course of his life. Every memory of them playing, hunting, watching you date other boys while he sat patiently waiting for the day he'd have his turn, the day you'd be his for good suddenly hitting him full force. The first thing he noticed was that you weren't y/n, not his y/n anyways, the slight shell of a woman who stood before him, seemed broken, sad, no longer the glint and smile in her eyes at the sight of him. She'd been hurt, that much was obvious.

“Y/n/n?” He spoke, his voice cracking slightly, not believing she'd returned to him, it had only ever happened in his dreams.

“Hey D, you miss me?” she smiled softly, clearly joking, but it wasn't a joke to him, he had missed her, he'd missed her for years with every fiber of his being.

“Every damn day of my life since you walked out of this bunker, sweetheart.” and before you knew it, his own giant arms engulfed you, his face burying itself in your hair as he squeezed you, scared you'd disappear again if he let go too soon. He needed you here, he needed you to stay in his arms forever.

You had told the boys everything, everything that had happened in your life over the last 5 years, everything between you and Jason and everything that had happened tonight. They had been shocked, well, Sam had, Dean had been angry, he'd always known Jason was a son of a bitch, but he never thought he'd go this far.

She had deserved better, she deserved the world, and right now, all he wanted to do was track the asshole down and slaughter him alive for hurting her. The bastard never appreciated how lucky he was to have her back then, and apparently, he hadn't changed.

You sipped your warm mug of tea, reminiscing on old times with the boys, they told you stories of their hunting adventures over the years, and you couldn't believe how they were still here, still alive, they had been through literal hell and back, and the years had worn down on them, you could tell in their faces, their eyes, they weren’t the bright, hopeful eyed boys you had remembered, but they were still Sam and Dean, They were still your family.

You rinsed out your mug, clearing off your dinner plate, Sam had bid goodnight and had headed off to bed, and you couldn't just pop back into their lives without making things up to them, so you'd decided to clean up, partly using it as a distraction to stop you from crying anymore.

The sound of heavy foot steps behind you pulling you away from your thoughts.

His voice was low, and it cracked as he spoke, he shifted in place and you could tell he was nervous.

“Stay here, Please don’t leave, not again” his voice was low, almost a whisper. Tears threatening to fall from his eyes, making his green eyes even brighter if that was possible.

You fully turned to face him, moving closer as you dried your hands, reaching out for him. He melted into your embrace, sniffling before once more holding you tightly. “I can't lose you again.” he stated simply, burying his face into your hair.

“I’m not going anywhere, D, not this time, I promise.” you whispered, he pulled back, his eyes meeting yours, he was staring at you, eyes roaming your face from any hint of a lie, something deeper hidden in his eyes, you wanted to ask him what was wrong, why he was looking at you that way, but you remained silent, choosing to just hold him and show him you weren't abandoning him again, not this time.

“Good,” He nodded, leaning in gently as his forehead touched yours, “Because losing you once hurt like a bitch, losing you again, that might actually kill me for good.” He huffed, smiling softly as he tucked a strand of hair back in it's place behind your ear.

He placed a small kiss on your forehead, before wishing you a goodnight.

“It’s good to have you home, y/n, it hasn't been the same without you around here.” He slowly turned, walking out of the kitchen and making his way to his own room.

You sighed, looking around once more at the massive bunker, Yeah, it was good to be home, you felt peace, happiness and once again, safe. This was your home, you were happy to finally be back where you belonged, happy to be once again with the family you loved so deeply.

This was your fresh start, and nothing felt better than being back in the place you’d known for so long. You were never turning your back on this again, not by choice.

You were finally home.

#Dean X reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester X Reader

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twiistedgalaxies · 3 years

Text

Genesis: Chapter 2: In Which Tetsuya Shigaraki Reconsiders his Life Choices

How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves. Or, alternatively: The origins of All for One and One for All.

Previous Chapter

A/N: Happy Yule/Solstice to everyone who celebrates it! (This chapter is the reason for the animal death tw tag. If you want to skip that scene, go to the first page break.)

Hisashi was standing in the abandoned, overgrown baseball field behind his high school when his father found him. It was a few months into the school year, and his brother had gone home early with a flimsy ice pack because he’d dislocated his knee when he tripped on his way to lunch. Hisashi had been missing for hours, and Testsuya Shigaraki had arrived home as the sun began to dip into the horizon only to be met with the panicked fretting of his youngest son. Thank God for phone GPS, Tetsuya had thought when he managed to locate his eldest, it would have taken hours to find him otherwise. A twig snapped under his feet as he approached, and his son’s head jerked towards him. His brown eyes were wide and glazed over, tears threatening to spill out. A splatter of red was on his cheek, and Tetsuya brows furrowed with confusion. There was a small, furry shape by Hisashi’s feet. He felt bile creep up his throat.

“D-Dad I..” Hisashi’s voice was shaky, cracking with grief and disbelief.

There was silence as the world seemed to hold its breath, “What happened?”

“I don’t know what came over me I.. one minute I was petting it and the next-”

Tetsuya wrapped his arms around his panicking son in an embrace. He snuck a look down at the broken body that lay there and felt his blood run cold. It was a house cat, “What. Did. You. Do?”

“I killed it Dad!” His son was hysterical now, trembling violently in his grip.

Tetsuya broke his embrace, unable to stave off the disgust from his face. “We’re cleaning this up, then you’re going home.” Hisashi opened his mouth to protest, but Tetsuya cut him off, “No excuses, your brother is worried sick about you and if you make him cry again I won’t be able to forgive you.”

Hisashi sniffed and nodded, wiping away tears with the back of his hand.

“Where’s your school’s cleaning supplies?”

“I’ll go get them,” Hisashi’s voice had grown cold once more, panic in his eyes replaced with steel.

Tetsuya was left alone in the abandoned baseball field with that... thing for much longer than he would have liked, and he found his eyes wandering to anywhere but the mangled house cat, with its ears bent back and legs twisted at odd angles, like it was praying.

His son returned with a shovel and a change of gym clothes. Tetsuya didn’t ask nor want to know how he broke into the likely locked up school and locker rooms. The hole that they dug was three feet deep and two feet wide, and Hisashi watched him gently lower the broken body into the small grave with unfeeling eyes. Never in his life did he think he would be afraid of his own son, but he couldn’t help the chill that seeped into his bones, nor the way his heart rate sped up every time he caught Hisashi’s gaze.

His son wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve and stepped behind a tree to change out of his now filthy clothes. Tetsuya pulled out his phone. 1 missed call. He’d unpack the clusterfuck of telling his wife what happened later, for now - Hisashi stepped out from behind the tree and peered over his shoulder - he’d have to deal with this.

This was not the first time he had encountered his son with a dead animal crumpled into a gory heap. They had lost many family pets, often in the span of only a few months, before Tetsuya and Hana had discovered what happened to them. When Hana had seen her darling little seven year old in the nearby park, standing over a freshly made grave.

They’d never bought a pet again. Hisashi had been promptly sent to therapy, to sort out his violent impulses and twisted expressions of love. Tetsuya thought that this tendency had died. Had disappeared. That his eldest son had been cured of his depravity. Evidently, he was wrong.

The walk back home was silent. Tetsuya didn’t know what to say. What he could say. Hisashi didn’t seem to know either, and the cold night air only seemed to cause the distance between them to grow.

-@~*^*~@-

Tomura was wrapped in a large, plush blanket. Around him was a nest of pillows and blankets to prop up his aching joints. He’d managed to scrounge a heating pad from the linen cabinet and wrapped it around his right knee. Even though he was able to set it back in place himself, it still hurt like crazy. He was worried when his brother hadn’t shown up after school had let out, and that anxiety grew exponentially as the hours ticked by. He’d tried calling his brother in between reading comic books and texting his new friend (he’d gotten Zach’s number the second day of school, and they’d been sending each other memes in the weeks since), only to be met with his familiar voice mail.

“Hello, you’ve reached Hisashi Shigaraki, I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave your message after the tone.”

His brother’s familiar, overly formal voice did absolutely nothing to soothe his nerves. Each time he heard that monotone phrase he felt his frustration and anxiety grow alongside a steadily worsening headache.

Tomura crawled out of bed once he heard the familiar creak of the door. Had Hisashi finally returned? He let out a hiss of pain once his feet hit the gray carpeted floor, and he reached out for a bed post to steady himself. To his annoyance, his cane had been discarded haphazardly by the door when he returned from school. He’d have to do this the stupid way, it seemed, since it was hard for him to put weight on his right leg without wanting to scream. Tomura used his arm to push himself from the bed to the dresser on the other side of the room, just barely able to catch himself on the corner before he could break his fall with his hip and add yet another colorful bruise to his collection. He leaned his weight on the nearby wall and scooped his cane up from the floor, then limped his way to the living room.

Disappointment flooded his mind like ink to water when he saw that it was not his brother, but rather his father who had arrived at home.

“What? No greeting?” His father said once he realized Tomura had entered the room, “I heard you took quite the fall at school today, you okay?”

Tomura chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head, “Hisashi hasn’t come home yet.”

Tetsuya’s brows furrowed, “He’s just a teenager, they tend to stay out late, have you tried calling him?”

It took every shred of willpower Tomura had to keep from rolling his eyes, “I called him a bunch of times, but it keeps going straight to voicemail. I’m really worried about him, he’s never stayed out this late before!”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll call him, he won’t be able to ignore his pops after all,” Tetsuya did just that. They waited in silence for several moments before irritation fell over the man’s face like a shroud. He, too, had been sent to voicemail.

“See what I mean?”

“Don’t give me cheek, boy,” Tetsuya replied stiffly, though Tomura could tell the aggravation was not directed towards him, but to the situation in general.

“I- What should we do? I tried getting a hold of his friends but they don’t know where he is! Do you think he got mugged? Kidnapped? Oh no, what if he’s in a hostage situation like the one in the capitol building last week-”

“Tomura, take a deep breath,” after a few moments of running Tomura through breathing exercises, and Tetsuya rubbing circles into his back, his father continued, “I have a GPS tracking app installed on his phone - don’t give me that look - called Circle, I should be able to use it to find him.” Tetsuya pulled out his phone and opened the app. Tomura was annoyed to find that he was listed on there as well, though he supposed it could be helpful if he ever went missing. A photo of his brother (a school photo, taken a year ago at a chess tournament) was imposed over a map as a small icon. He was at the high school.

Tomura’s eyes widened, “I think I know where he is.”

-@~*^*~@-

It had happened near the end of Hisashi’s freshman year, Tomura had tagged along with his brother’s friends to the abandoned baseball field behind the school. It was a place teenagers hung out and smoked after school, since the field was obscured by overgrown eucalyptus trees. The field was empty aside from his brother’s friends by the time he and Hisashi had arrived, though Tomura could see cigarette butts on the ground, still glowing a bright orange and the air was heavy with the smell of nicotine. His heart leapt to his throat as he recognized some of the teenagers and hid behind his brother’s tall imposing form. Hisashi looked confused by his reaction, but stepped forward to greet his friends nonetheless.

“Hey, who’s the brat you brought with you?” One of his friends, a wide set, blonde fellow in a football jersey, asked.

Hisashi’s eyes narrowed, “My little brother, mom and dad wanted me to watch him today, we spoke about this in the group chat.”

Tomura poked his head out from behind his brother, long hair in his face. He saw a flicker of recognition in the teenager’s eyes. Oh no.

“That little punk is your brother, really?” the teen hopped off his perch on the rusting metal bleachers.

Sensing the tension in the air, Hisashi moved his body to further block Tomura, his tone spoke of warning, “Excuse me, Dylan?”

The rest of the group backed off, not wanting anything to do with the unfolding situation, but another, dark haired teenager moved to stand besides the jock. Light emitted from the teen’s fingertips. A metahuman?

Dylan laughed, his voice all sharp edges, “Oh that’s rich, so you don’t know?!”

Hisashi placed his hand on Tomura’s shoulder, an empty gesture of reassurance. He smiled, “And what is it, exactly, that I’m supposed to know?”

“Well, ya see, this invalid decided to interrupt me while I was collecting my due, it was pitiful really, and I ended up with double the profit!”

Tomura tensed, he had been walking home from school alone when he’d heard someone cry out in a nearby alleyway. He’d seen Dylan backing a young woman into the wall, knife glinting at her throat. As it turns out, intervening is futile when you’re half your attacker’s size, and he ended up getting the shit kicked out of him, the money he’d been saving for Christmas shopping stolen. His parents were quick to buy the white lies he’d spun about the confrontation when he got home, but he didn’t miss the shrewd, calculating looks his brother had shot him in the following days. Now, as he tried desperately to hide how hard he shook, he could still feel the sickening crunch of his broken nose and the familiar tear of his shoulder being ripped out of socket.

Hisashi’s grin grew wider, somehow, and those still sitting on the bleachers inched backwards, “Really?” He took his hand off Tomura’s shoulder and stepped towards the boys, “Because I recall a discussion about who’s off limits.”

Dylan pulled his fist back and attempted to punch Hisashi, but he dodged with ease, gripping the teen’s leg and flipping him on his ass. He blocked a kick from his other opponent and narrowly avoided a sudden beam of light.

The boy in question looked on with wide eyes, tears blurring his vision, “Y-yes?”

“Go home.” a stomp on Dylan’s stomach and a whimper.

“B-but-”

“I’m serious, go home. I’ll meet you there in a little while and we can watch your favorite movie, okay?” Hisashi looked over his shoulder, fondness and barely controlled rage fighting for dominance on his face.

“Hey, stop ignoring me you bast-!”

Tomura didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say as he turned tail and ran as fast as his weak legs could carry him.

Hisashi never did return to their apartment that night, instead spending it alone in a cold holding cell. To this day Tomura could still remember the disappointment in his parents’ voices as they lectured him during his single, permitted call.

-@~*^*~@-

Tomura was curled up on the couch cocooned in a fluffy blanket, watching Captain America: The First Avenger, when his dad and brother returned. “Why are you in gym clothes?” he blurted out without thinking. Hisashi ignored him and made a bee-line for their room, and then the shower.

His father, however, paused by the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose, “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Maybe when you’re older, your brother will tell you,” Tetsuya meandered into the kitchen, and sifted through the cabinet full of pots and pans with a loud clatter.

Tomura propped his head up on the back of the couch, “Whatcha’ making?”

“Dinner.”

“I mean obviously, but what’s for dinner?” he asked, his question supported by a growling stomach not suited for a boy his size.

“Food,” Tetsuya smiled at Tomura’s childish groan of frustration, “We’re having fried rice, I don’t think your mom would appreciate us having take-out again.”

Trying to find a topic to continue the conversation, Tomura asked, “How was work?”

“The usual but my boss, the one who runs the flower shop, wanted me to work a double shift, I told him no. I don’t get to see you boys enough as it is,” Tetsuya hummed, “Apparently one of my coworkers had a run-in with one of those damn meta-humans and had to take the day off.”

“A metahuman? I’ve heard about them in the news but.. I don’t really know much about them,” Tomura said, curiosity itched at him. He paused the movie so that he wouldn’t miss anything, though he’d seen it dozens of times. There was a metahuman in his class, the kid always ate alone and no one ever wanted to play with him. Tomura felt bad, but didn’t really know what he could do to help.

Tetsuya scowled, “They’re freaks of nature, that’s what! It started with that glowing baby a few decades ago and the mutations have just gotten worse and more frequent since, some of them can’t even be called human.”

“Is that why there’s been so many protests and stuff?”

A chuckle, “Yeah that’s part of it, people haven’t been doing too hot after the pandemic either. Nothing like mass evictions to make the public angry,” Tetsuya started the rice cooker and walked over to the couch to ruffle his son’s hair, “At least you and your brother are normal, that gives us less to worry about.”

Tomura nodded, an odd feeling twisting in his guts.

“So what’re you watching?”

“Captain America,” he replied, gesturing vaguely to the TV.

“Again?” His father asked, amusement coloring his voice. Tomura flushed bright red. Before he could open his mouth to respond, the front door opened with a familiar creak.

“I’m home!” His mother’s familiar voice called

Tetsuya visibly tensed, dread on his features, “Hello dear, how was work?”

Hana placed her keys in a small dish on a table by the door and slipped off her jacket, “Oh it was just terrible! Some woman came into the salon today, she raised a massive fuss and kept asking to speak to our manager when we wouldn’t let her use an expired coupon.”

“Was her name Karen?” Tomura quipped. Both of his parents shot him a baffled look.

Tetsuya walked over to his wife and embraced her, placing a kiss on her soft cheek. He whispered something in her ear and she paled, giving him a nod, “I’ll talk to him about it after Tomura goes to bed.”

Dinner later that night was terse and awkward. Something unsaid hung in the air, and Hisashi opted to slide his fried rice around his plate with his fork rather than eat. Tomura, on the other hand, shoveled his food quickly and excused himself from the table. He couldn’t stand it when his family got like this, it had happened before, a few times when he was really young, and the night after Hisashi had gotten home after the incident. He knew what it meant as he shut his bedroom door behind him and slid into bed, pulling the covers over his head. Sure enough, shouts flooded into his room from the kitchen, and Tomura found himself falling asleep to the sounds of sobbing and the front door slamming shut.

A/N: I'm not super happy with how this chapter has turned out, I've repeatedly read it until it feels like my eyes are going to bleed so I can avoid grammar and spelling mistakes. I'll probably catch more later and have to do small edits to the chapter. I have a crackfic that should be coming out tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled for that. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter was originally supposed to be part of this one but I decided to split it to keep chapter lengths consistent. Feel free to leave a comment, I love hearing feedback.

AO3

Next Chapter

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #dad for one #afo #ofa #all for one #one for all #original holder of one for all #fanfiction #fanfic #origin story #my hero academy #my hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #fic #ao3 #ff.net #i forgot to add tags because i am a human disaster

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loudblonde · 4 years

Text

Soulmate with the anticrist?

Warning, graphic details of nearly dying and mentions of torture. Do not read if these things are triggering or offensive to you. The start to a sexual scene but nothing explicit. This is a soul mate AU; you have a red spot on the place you touch your soulmate the first time.

Year:Date:Month: 1946, 5th, April

Location: Saint Agnes church, Florida, United States of America

“Bless me father for I am about to sin.” A smirk came from the young man. The priest next to him shuffled slightly. “It’s been years since my last confession.”

“What will you do my child?” The priest asked, he looked over at the wall, sweat gathered on his forehead, he felt the temperature rise within the confession booth. However, the priest couldn’t help but feel curious, not many confessed to him before they sinned.

The outline of the man was the only thing visible, something seemed off about him. He felt something get stuck in his throat, clawing to get out. The pain made tears form in his eyes, he tried to scream out for help, but no sound came.

“I will take my revenge, on someone who hurt me many years ago.” The smirk grew wider as the man clenched his fist. The priest cleared his throat, unable to properly breath, he had to get away.

“Someone who took everything from me.” The voice was strained, raw emotions clear. Anger, sadness, and fear. This was revenge.

The priest fell out of the booth, desperately trying to claw his way towards help. The man stepped out and looked down upon the priest. The man sent a kick towards his ribs, breaking them in the progress.

“Don’t you remember me father? How you took me in, kept me bound and said I had run away?” He knelt down as he grabbed the priest’s hair. His eyes turned black as the skin underneath his fingers started sizzling. Bobbles formed of fatty tissue, threatening to burst open at any moment.

The priest tried to say something but couldn’t, he puked up blood. A clump was in the blood, fear like any other settled into the priest. A frog like creature came out as with the blood. It had mucus green spikes all over its back, yet it appeared that some of the spikes were broken or missing.

The fear filled the air. Sweet fear that all could fell, the church cooled down, ice formed on the windows, threatening to break them if the wind blew on them.

The demon chuckled as he picked up the frog. It snuggled into his palm, the spikes not affecting him. “Such a dainty little thing. Fully capable of love and thoughts. My familiar. You see when you tried to exercise the demon out of me. I was what… six, seven? But now…” He trailed off as he stood up.

The frog disappeared from his hand. A low chuckle came from him, all the emotion was replaced by triumph, the demon had won.

“I’m much older, much stronger. You are no more. I will personally drag you to hell, as you made me call out for it. Call out for a chance to be released. You made your own destiny.” (Y/N) laughed as the priest began chanting an exorcism rite.

“Please, I am in my own body.” He snapped his fingers, making the priest disappear. Silence filled the church. A contempt sigh escaped his lips as he made his way towards the exit.

(Y/N) had fully intended to walk out but he felt the air change as time slowed down. A bullet was sent his way, but he managed to dodge it. (Y/N) immediately turned around, his eyes looked upon a man… no this wasn’t a man. This was nothing but an empty shell of a slave.

He had noticed that the humans frequently did this to their own, so many souls came down to hell and only needed a slight push before they became a demon. It disgusted him that someone could do that to their own.

It seemed his dodging took the slave off guard, but he quickly moved towards him, (Y/N) smirked as he disappeared, leaving what had once been a human to his demise. He couldn’t think straight, his mind was too focused on the years of torture he was going to put that monster through.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Years on earth had gone by, (Y/N) had stayed in hell for well over a thousand years. He had grown bored of the priest. So instead of keeping him as a pet, he let his sister have the not so human soul.

(Y/N) had appeared in a park. It was dark, yet the moon was full and on its highest, he could feel the energy coming from her. There was only one human in the park but didn’t recognise him.

Why would he? He looked around at the changing world, he didn’t recognise anything. Though he knew once he found a corrupt human soul to eat, he would know all the technology of this new world.

(Y/N) looked down at his hand, demons had no soul mate. They simply didn’t have a soul worthy of it. Yet he had been human once, he had once been innocent. Tears threatened to form, he blinked them away.

(Y/N) longed for the innocence.

He had been broken and forced into the arms of demons. It had its perks but also, it’s downfall. If he had ever seen a therapist, he would be locked away. A small smile broke out on his face as he shook his head. He was fucked up and didn’t hide it.

He felt the other man walk up behind him; on instinct he turned his head, startling the human. The human seemed vaguely familiar. “How did you hear me?” The man asked. (Y/N) stood up and crossed his arms.

“Pardon my language, but who the fuck, are you?” The man looked away, clearly regretting this.

“Never mind.” The man turned around and started walking. (Y/N) groaned silently and appeared in front of the stranger. He placed a hand on the strangers’ chest.

He didn’t realise the world around him exploded into vibrant colours, everyone could see colours but the moment you met the one, the whole world became worth fighting for. It became vibrant. To his defence, it was very much night.

“Listen here fucker,” (Y/N) pushed the man over towards the bench, the man fully let him, unable to say anything. “I do recognise you but, and excuse me for being cautious, I have not been here for over a thousand years, so my manners are a bit rough. But…” He noticed the man was staring at him with amazement and not fear. It took the demon by surprise. Well he wasn’t actually one but he damn near acted like it.

(Y/N) looked at his hand on the persons chest, the subtle glow made him recoil his hand. From fear of hurting the human. He had been about to disappear out of pure terror, but the man grabbed his arm.

“Don’t leave. You were in that church.” Bucky stood up. He held onto the others arm as he watched his face go from confusion to realisation and into utter fear again.

“It’s been 70 years, how are you still alive?” Bucky asked, always having assumed that his soulmate had long since died. He pulled his shirt up with his metal hand, it showed the mark on his chest. (Y/N) tore his arm from Bucky’s grip.

“You… You shouldn’t have seen me like that. I was young and I wanted revenge…” (Y/N) looked at Bucky. “I was a monster. Though you seem to not care. Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “We have all done things, things we weren’t in control off. I spend years as a brain washed assassin. My point is, whatever you were in that church, it doesn’t seem to be there anymore. The man I remember wouldn’t ever have his fear written all over his face, but you do.” Bucky took the males hands and intertwined their fingers. His hands were colder than anything Bucky had ever felt before.

“… There is something you need to know.” (Y/N) braced himself for the fear his soulmate would undoubtedly have.

“You aren’t human?” Bucky asked amused. “I kind of figured that out with all the disappearing things and well… your eyes are currently all black.”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realised his eyes had switched, he felt as if he was a hatchling all over again. “I’m sorry for this. I really am… I’m (Y/N) Morningstar, son of the Morningstar himself. The not so excited anti-Christ or whatever humans call me.” (Y/N) shrugged as he looked directly at Bucky.

Bucky chuckled slightly as he sat down. He was amused. (Y/N) hadn’t expected this reaction. “My soulmate is not only a cambion but also the son of Satan, I’m James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

(Y/N) hummed slightly before smirking. “Bucky… What a pretty name.”

Bucky looked over at the halfling. His whole body shifted to fully see the other. “(Y/N),” his eyes starred at Bucky.

“How do I get in contact with you?” Bucky gently took the males hands.

(Y/N) gently let go of Bucky’s hands and instead cupped his cheeks. “Know this Bucky, I am neither demon nor angel, neither alive nor dead, my destiny will be to end all life, but if you call. I shall come, I named myself (Y/N), my real name is not spoken out loud, so I shall whisper it. Think of my true name and I shall appear.” (Y/N) said and waited for Bucky to slowly nod.

Bucky nodded slightly, confused but also happy. He blushed as (Y/N) leaned down, his lips touched his ear. Bucky closed his eyes, savouring the moment. (Y/N) whispered a name so foul the flowers around them died.

Though the name had no effect on Bucky, he dared not to say it out loud. (Y/N) stood up as he looked around, his eyes landed on Bucky before he smirked. “Are you heading home or staying out?”

“I think we can work something out.” Bucky smirked.

Bucky lead (Y/N) all the way home, once inside his small apartment (Y/N) pushed Bucky against the wall, his lips immediately found Bucky’s. Bucky instantly kissed back, his hands grabbed (Y/N)’s waist, pulling him in closer. (Y/N) shrugged his jacket off, letting it drop to the ground.

His lips travelled down Bucky’s neck. He stopped right before the shirt and pulled away. Bucky panted slightly as he looked down at (Y/N), he gently lifted (Y/N)’s head up and kissed him. A sweet kiss, one shared between lovers.

Bucky and (Y/N) spend the night together. Every moment was spent fully awake and in total bliss. When morning came and Bucky came to it. He saw (Y/N) was gone but a note was left on the table. He stood up and read it over

My dearest Bucky

I regret that I cannot be near you at the moment you wake.

I wish I could see your soft smile but alas I have hell business to take care off. I shall be here soon; await my arrival and we shall spend every day together.

-Your (Y/N)

Bucky smiled as he placed the note where he had found it. He looked around the small apartment and found (Y/N) had left his shirt and most of his clothes. Bucky hesitantly grabbed the jacket, still butt naked. It held a faint scent of sulphur. It was strangely comforting.

He managed to pull on some pants before Steve walked in. He looked at Bucky with a weird smile. “I didn’t know you were into one-night stands.” Steve chuckled. Bucky turned around as he faced Steve, he looked confused until Steve pointed at his neck.

“You have hickeys all over.” A chuckle came from the blonde.

Bucky walked out into the bathroom before smiling deeply. “Damn, he really did a good job, huh.” Bucky said with a happy voice, his hand went up to touch the bruises. None of them hurt.

“He?” Steve asked amused, “You seem very happy, who did you meet?” Steve saw the letter and picked it up. He thought it was orders. He glanced it over.

“My soulmate.” Steve dropped the letter as he choked on his spit.

“You met your soulmate? I thought they were born in the same generation as you.”

Bucky walked out of the bathroom, he looked over at Steve and shrugged. “He could have had the same issues as I had. Or something similar.”

Steve crossed his arms, distrust growing in him. He didn’t want to accuse his oldest friend of lying, yet he felt as though Bucky was hiding the truth. Bucky, as if having sensed the distrust, sighed. “Fine. He is immortal. Which is weird, I saw him as the soldier, back in 45. Happy?”

Steve nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “What is he, a warlock?” He asked as he sat down.

Bucky shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. We didn’t do a lot of talking.” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, “Not that I mind that, it did help me find out about a lot of… things.” Steve chuckled; memories of his friend’s old ways surfaced.

“Well it sounds like you two had a wonderful night. I will be looking forward to meeting him, when you are ready and if you think he can know about our operation.” Steve stood up.

“Which reminds me. Tomorrow morning at 0600 sharp. We are getting debriefed. Some demons are gathering on the top, more so then there have been in years.” Steve moved towards the door.

“I will be there. I owe the operation my life. Demon scum will no longer rule the earth or control any humans.” Bucky said, a bad taste in his mouth. The operation had saved him from being a brainless slave, an empty shell for demons to use as a field soldier. Something they could just get rid of if they wished.

“I know, trust me Bucky, there will be revenge.” Steve said and gave Bucky a pitying smile. Bucky hated those smiles but didn’t say anything as Steve walked out.

#bucky x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #marvel fanfiction #sfw #cute #bit of fluff #soulmate #soulmate au #soulmark #bucky

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barbika1508 · 4 years

Text

Hiwaga (Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader)

Part 2

Words: 11,2k

Genre: Soulmate AU, Reincarnation AU, Enemies to Lovers, Action, Romance, Smut, Flufffffff

Pairing: Vampire! Jeongguk x Reader

Warnings: More cursing, Nightmares

Summary: Life was good, playing out better than it has been ever before. My future was bright and full of promises and wishes coming to realization. All up until she showed up. She stormed though the front doors ruining everything along the way by her mere presence derailing my goals and purpose in life. A puny mortal, a child, a complete nuisance, and yet…The key to an unimaginable life, to the truth all along.

Author's note: Hiwaga – mystery; full of wonder Words in italics are dialogues or thoughts that Jeongguk reads from others. So I’ve done research with this fic, and used certain words that need explanation…given that there can be A LOT I’ve put a dictionary just below the fic if anyone is interested :3

Jeongguk’s POV:

‘’YOONGIIIIII-YAAAHHH!!!’’ comes the call not really disrupting others, but it does pull the gained momentum to a full stop, everyone now straightening up, eyes and heads turned towards the entrance. We all observe as the owner of that annoying voice comes in sight, dressed in none other than Yoongi hyungs favourite red hoodie that he mostly lounges around in.

‘’I’ve figure it out!’’ she continues on oblivious to the others stopping because of her. Our elder simply smiles and turns his attention completely onto her, as she offers up a thick book that at first glance leaves me wondering how she was able to pick it up. Frankly if you look at her you wouldn’t assume that she’d be able to lift much.

He simply hums in acknowledgement, eyes scanning the page his smile gradually fading. Namjoon appears at the doorframe a moment later, the girl not jumping or flinching at his sudden presence like most humans would normally react to. Wordlessly she accepts a notebook from him, her own eyes darting left and right a frown drawing itself across her features. Hmmm she’s kind of cute…

‘’What’s going on?’’ Taehyung asks frowning as he shifts the spear he’s using to train, between his hands. We’re all dressed the same, in black tank tops and grey sweatpants most of us barefoot too. We came to the fully equipped gym which we’ve transformed into an arena its purpose clear – practice martial arts and combat between another. Hyung had just started teaching us new techniques honestly surprising us all as he joined in from the beginning.

We don’t necessarily need the fitness or practice – nobody even broke a sweat in the last hour we’ve been training – but the impending tension that has settled after the ball two nights ago, doesn’t seem to loosen up so this is the best next thing to relieve some form of built up frustration. Even though neither Yoongi nor Jin hyung revealed anything yet, both of them are hiding their emotions back but everyone just knows that something is happening. Fighting is a temporary distraction.

Most vampires don’t actually need to fight or simply never learn how to because they rely solemnly on their powers or abilities. And half of us could lean onto using our powers, but Yoongi made sure we had a good solid base of self-defence before he had us train our abilities. For example, his power is scary and rare and doesn’t require of him to ever lift a finger whilst fighting. Others had to learn the hard way how to control their powers. That includes myself – mentality and people’s minds are tricky.

‘’Research.’’ Its Namjoon that replies handing over a regular pencil that he usually sticks behind his ear whenever he’s working on something in the library where he has been spending a lot of time lately again at. The human accepts it, and is quick to start and scribble something over a page. Being the only one left out of this round I approach them first, eyeing Yoongi for a moment further his eyes darting over to Namjoon.

‘’This is bothersome.’’ He comments offering the book to Namjoon who accepts it nodding silently. The girl curses out of the blue, the swear words that spill from her mouth unfamiliar to my ear, and judging by other hyung’s faces they are stumped too. Some curses don’t even sound like words, but once she shuts up and looks at the platinum blonde elder, she looks beyond annoyed while he burst into chuckles shaking his head ‘’Yah, Y/N-ah there are kids here.’’ He teases back the occurrence and light-heartedness that he shows to her still unfamiliar. He must be the only one who understood whatever came from her mouth.

I spare a glance at Seokjin who is shaking his head, two fingers pressed against the inner of his eyes. Okay he understood her to, but to what degree I’m not sure.

‘’Aish.’’ She intakes a breath ready to smack Yoongi with the notebook but refrains from doing so, her eyes darting over to us. Maybe it’s just my imagination but I get a feeling as if they linger on me for a moment longer ‘’Not funny. They called me a child.’’ She ends up pouting and showing her notebook over to Yoongi. Glancing at Namjoon he’s awkwardly smiling, eyes averted down onto the thick book ‘’And other things I don’t need to translate.’’ Grumbling she adds looking upset as she glares at him unamused. Everyone offers soft chuckles in return finally relaxing more as they step closer.

Hyung’s arm rises wrapping around her shoulders reassuringly ‘’Well that was the plan was it not?’’

My eyes dart over to Tae and Jimin, exchanging looks between both of them in question and sort of answer at the revelation ‘’Yeh.’’ Her reply is curt arms crossed over while she turns her eyes towards Namjoon ‘’We’re close to figuring it out. Its trickier than I thought. Haven’t practiced Gaya in so long…Kaya…aish even my pronunciation is completely off.’’ She signs looking exasperated.

‘’Wait…’’ Hoseok starts tensing up taking barely half a step towards her in the uneven circle we’ve created ‘’Kaya as in the language? Karak? Like 5th century, dead long and forgotten language?!’’ he looks at them in complete disbelief mouth hanging ajar. He’s almost on his toes. I immediately look at the human, that nods fingers tapping against the page of her notebook impatiently or out of nerves.

‘’That one yes. Why? Do you know it???’’ her eyes sparkle for a moment, but hyung is quick to turn his head away and raise his hands in defeat.

‘’That’s way before my time.’’ he mumbles pouting. I watch as Y/N enthusiasm diminishes instantly. She sighs heavily looking at Yoongi who’s already staring back at her.

‘’Aigo.’’ She complains pouting ‘’It’s all on us then buddy.’’ She adds on offering Namjoon a soft smile. I can see her disappointment clearly in the way her shoulders lower sag. I narrow my eyes as I watch her, not really comprehending that there’s a chance that she actually knows a dead language. The name of it or the know how about it. She barely speaks proper Korean!!!!! And to know of a pre-Korean language makes zero logic!!!

‘’Uh huh. I’m sure we can handle it. Easy.’’ Namjoon replies trying to sound positive but, we all know he’s putting up a front for her sake ‘’I’ll head into the city right away. Go to my usual places to snoop around for any fragments. There should be at least something somewhere.’’ And with that, and a silent confirmation from Jin and Yoongi, he bids us goodbye’s and heads out disappearing quickly as he appeared before.

‘’What are you even translating? Did that douche-ling make another cryptic speech?’’ Jimin asks looking annoyed, tapping both fingers against the handles of his dual swords which are resting against the ground. Y/N instead of quickly replying looks over at Yoongi, who takes her notebook and closes it. Is she waiting for permission or is she actually being respectful for once?!?

‘’In the beginning yeah, he bounced with Karak but then switched to Latin mid-way.’’ Yoongi snorts smirking but there’s no amusement to his words ‘’Y/N-ah already translated his official scripts and the other speech, and the propositions he gave us.’’

‘’Lots of politics involved.’’ Jin confirms looking lost in thought, holding his head propped up with one hand, the other remaining crossed across his chest.

‘’There’s something else isn’t there.’’ I pick up on the lack of explanation staring straight at the human. Her lips go into a tight line eyes averting looking anywhere else, while she shifts her feet in line with her shoulders, stance defensive with her centre balanced. That much I can read out once her shoulders square up, and her leg muscles clench and unclench. Why is she wearing a hoodie and shorts again?!? Her bare legs look very nicely defined, I never noticed it.

‘’I wrote down notes of the conversation that Wangseja had with his advisor.’’ Everyone takes a double take at her disclosure clearly none of us expecting something like this of her. Maybe she isn’t a clueless bimbo after all.

‘’That still wouldn’t fully explain the usage of Karak.’’ Hoseok speaks up thoughtful ‘’Do you think them speaking out loud was deliberate or simply a foolish error?’’

He has a point there. It could be a trap, but Yoongi is quick to shake his head in denial arm now having shifted around Y/N, his hand placed on her hip ‘’I don’t think it’s either of those. It’s safe to assume for certain than none of you assumed that Y/N-ah here spoke more than 3 languages, let alone Karak in the mix right?’’ the other hyungs nod along eyeing her suspiciously, except for Jin that offers a smirk and Taehyung that seems to be revaluating his stance over her again ‘’Point made then.’’

That boulder in my stomach reappears again, as with prideful eyes Yoongi turns to look at her with a wider smile, while she shakes her head instead twirling the pen, he hasn’t confiscated from her. She’s shifting from one foot to another lulling side to side impatiently making him retreat his arm away.

This girl never seems to be able to stand still even for a second ‘’Yeah, yeah I’m more than meets the eye, bla, bla.’’ She shows her tongue at her supposedly life-term friend ‘’Never heard that one before.’’ she mocks, and slides the pen smoothly behind Hyung’s ear who doesn’t blink twice at her antics. Even more so as she reaches for his Geom that is sheathed on his left hip ‘’So instead of wracking our brains uselessly with the lack of information that we are stuck with, I would like to lay of some steam as well.’’ she draws out the double-edged sword, with poise, letting the handle go while she maintains the balance of it, flipping the sword around a single digit, capturing it successfully once it does a 360 turn.

She looks pleased upon capturing it, perking up and giving of an almost goofy smile. Oh no. Don’t tell me this is something else that she isn’t going to take seriously?

‘’You wanna play with us little mortal?’’ Jimin pips up looking enthusiastic and livelier all of the sudden. But he doesn’t slide forward and move closer to her like I know he would prefer to. It brings a smile to my face, the thought of him being so afraid of hyung that he doesn’t dare approach her in his presence all that much.

Looking at the girl, she’s preoccupied with hyung’s sword, trying to find the balance of it as she holds it by the handle horizontally keeping it steady. At his comment, she lets the sword fall but catches it before the tip can hit the ground.

‘’Jagi?’’ the nickname has everyone in the room freeze on spot. There are two reaction that she grants herself. Chuckles of amusement, that aren’t as quiet as the hyungs wants them to be – nobody in their sane mind would want to experience Yoongi’s wrath. Tae ends up ducking behind Hoseok as he’s the loudest, hence why the elders glare is instantaneous as he turns to glare at both giggling men.

Jin hyung straight up turns around hand covering his mouth, but his shoulders are shaking badly. Hoseok ends up grinning wider and starts too coo instead, teasing in between but mostly telling Y/N how adorable she is for some reason. Jimin settles for kneeling on the ground hands still holding into his own dual swords grin present over his features, eyes having disappeared from how much he finds this whole situation amusing.

I on the other hand hold back the bile that gathers in my stomach. Ew. Just no. Why? Seriously why. I cringe and listen to the way Yoongi is quick to defend her and not himself! He’s advocating for her, coming up with excuses as to why he is allowing her to use this nickname on him. Looking at her, she’s grinning widely clearly amused by the situation she has created.

I seriously feel sick to my stomach. It’s wrong it’s all just wrong. I seriously don’t like her. Just as I was starting to, I don’t anymore I really don’t. She’s way to cocky right now, acting as if she has hyung wrapped around her finger. He storms after our so called ‘dance line’ with the exception of me, as they start teasing the two louder and bolder. Unbothered she remains put just watching blurs go around, her eyes not able to pick up much on what’s going on as the chase begins.

If she wasn’t here – hyung would be chasing me too with the others. I let a few good comebacks die on my tongue knowing first-hand what it’s like to get silly punishment from Yoongi after badmouthing him or anyone else. Her mere presence right now is to put it in simple words; extinguishes my will to live. And yeah, I’ve been a vampire for almost 200 years but fuck does she weight me down. Is it because I can’t read her thoughts? I shift on my feet, dropping my arms from the crossed-up position I’ve had them. While my left hand reasts against my hip, I let my right rest over the handle of my own Geom. I’ve decided to build upon my skills with it, even though it’s not commonly used anymore, it’s still gives the thrill like no other.

That familiar itch raises in my throat slowly, prickling at it mostly. I think this type I haven’t felt since I’ve been freshly turned. But that was another story as my hunger for blood then was insatiable. When all I could think about was blood, and the constant pain that held me in its clutches. It’s starting to appear somewhat, but not necessarily for blood alone which is puzzling as to what’s happening to me.

‘’You look like you’re having fun.’’ I raise an eyebrow as I look down at her in surprise ‘’The whole brooding thing you’ve got going on right now, is a good strategy. I commend you on that dude.’’

‘’Strategy?’’ I ask bemused eyeing her carefully as she steps right next to me and turns to watch the chaos that’s still unfolding across us. Her approach is like – if you were sitting on the very edge of a couch, she’s the person that would sit right next to you. Can she get even more annoying than this?!

‘’Well yeah.’’ She starts and looks at me slightly losing the edge of confidence she has ‘’To avoid this mess that’s happening. Wasn’t that…’’ she trails off clearly doubting herself ‘’Never mind then.’’ she’s quick to look away, left hand reaching up to scratch at her cheek, but she keeps it there avoiding to look at me.

I can’t help but to smile at her behaviour. Is she blushing?!

Odd. Humans are weird. Narrowing my eyes as I continue watching her, I can’t help but to relax a bit. Her hair is a mess as always, falling over her shoulders, clearly uncombed or unattended. Not that she’s dirty, she smells fresh and like she bathed fairly recently that strawberry hint present underneath the artificial flavour of honey scented shampoo.

The hoodie is too big on her body as it’s too big for hyung himself but on her it easily reaches her mid tights. Having said that the branded shorts with white stripes at the side of her legs peek just from beneath the red hoodie. Otherwise her legs are exposed, and following the curves from her meaty thighs, down to her calves I can see she’s back at being restless her left foot tapping against the ground the rubber of her sneakers making faint noise against the wood of the ground.

Shouts raising has me turning up, ready to defend myself from blatantly staring at her or crudely said ogling her. To my rare luck Yoongi has both Jimin and Taehyung pinned down, clearly having fun as he fake scolds them. Hoseok has given up and is sitting on the ground, hands propping himself up as he’s leant backwards. Jin hasn’t even participated in whatever they have going on, and is sitting in the corner of the room, kneeling against the wall with his new pink coloured Samsung Z in his hands, typing furiously on it with a small smirk on his face.

‘’Hey do you know why did the scarecrow win an award?’’ Jin starts getting everyone’s attention eyes rising after he asks the question. He even glances towards us. And we all know what’s coming it’s clear as a single cloud on a clear sunny day ‘’Because he was outstanding in his field.’’

I roll my eyes instantly, biting onto my lower lip because it’s ridiculous. Jimin burst into laughter first, Hoseok and Tae groaning but ending up laughing more so because of Jimin that rolls away from Yoongi who has let go of both vampires and is staring at hyung with a scrunched-up expression.

‘’Seriously hyung?’’ he breathes shaking his head. But a smile is present.

I’m genuinely startled when Y/N places her hand on my shoulder, body trembling as she tries to keep her own giggles down, but is not having much success with it. I stare at her confused but slightly fascinated by the rosiness that covers her cheeks, and face. Her eyes crinkle as they shut, mouth twisted into a grin. Her hold on my shoulder is surprisingly firm, again in the back of my mind making me revaluate the estimate I put on her about her strength.

‘’You’re laughing at that?’’ I ask trying to sound unimpressed but fail at it completely as I smile all due to her own amusement, the joke not being that drop-dead-funny.

She shakes her head instead and let’s go of me taking a step to the side hand readjusting the hold on hyung’s Geom once more ‘’The delivery was A+.’’ she points out as she starts to calm down.

‘’Thank you, Y/N-ah! You see brats? Someone appreciates my jokes! It’s why from now on Y/N-ah is my favourite creature ever!!!’’ he shouts out acting bratty himself. Jimin and Tae are both on their feet making their way over to Jin, probably with the intention of convincing him that they are his favourite whatever.

‘’Gee thanks.’’ Y/N chuckles bringing my attention back to her ‘’Never been called someone’s favourite ‘creature’ but I’ll take it.’’ she ends up grinning happily as she turns to me, warmth still lingering on her cheeks. As well as over my shoulder where her hand was ‘’Anyways you wanna practice Sour boy?’’ I immediately frown at that nickname as does she scrunching up her nose adorably for a moment ‘’Sour creature?’’ she tries ending up chuckling to herself as she shift left and right, the calmness leaving her while her jumpiness coming back ‘’Can’t use Sour wolf those right are reserved obviously…’’ I tilt my head not having a clue what’s she’s referring to ‘’…sour…ah never mind.’’ Again, she’s shaking her head but isn’t hiding away. She twists the sword again putting her left foot forward balancing her centre first, hands and sword following suit ‘’So you wanna try going against me?’’

It’s a dare.

I want to burst into laughter already imagining 3 moves alone to disarm her in a blink of her eye. But hyung’s words in my head stop me from over reacting at the preposterous challenge that’s right in front of me.

Humour her Jeongguk-ah. It will do good for your patience.

Taking a hold of my own blade, I spare a glance over towards Yoongi first noticing that everyone is watching us. They are going to be entertained I’ll make sure I will…

In a blink of an eye and my own, as my reflexes are enhanced mind you – I find myself dumbfounded, as her sword flashes due to the light and clashes against my own, knocking it sideways proving that my hold on it wasn’t as tight as it should have been.

As I look down at her burning but non-glowing human eyes, she’s glaring at me with some sort of fire in her irises. Her hand is back on me, firmly holding onto the inside of my forearm, while her blade is angled in a seemingly awkward position right arm positioned over her left body twisted to the side. But the most important part is; the tip of her sword is located right under my chin. The body of the Geom is strategically positioned in a way that would block any stronger and direct attack from myself.

The cheers burst out of the blue interrupting the silence that happened due to her unexpected actions.

My tongue darts to my cheek as I snort and tilt my head narrowing my eyes at her, as she ends up smiling but look serious doing so. She ends up pulling her hand and sword back, rising it up in triumph.

‘’Lesson number one; always be ready for the unexpected.’’ Jin speaks up oddly enough giving me a more serious look.

I don’t even bother looking towards others, and focus on the girl before me that’s literally skipping on her spot 2 steps away from me. She wiggles her eyebrows at me, sword getting placed to rest against her shoulder angled at an around 80 degree ‘’Lesson 1000-something-something never lose focus.’’ She imitates Yoongi’s pattern of speech clearly making fun of him making me know that he trained her as well. Her head turns to the right to give him a look.

I twirl my Geom keeping in mind that even though I’m about to surprise her as she surprised me, I a voice screaming at me to keep my movements slow. It would be an easy defeat – like taking candy from a baby – if I use my regular speed and agility on her. She wouldn’t stand a chance.

As I raise my blade, she instantly blocks it spinning with elegance at the perfect time. While I’m holding the leather wrapped handle with both hands, she only uses one and efficiently blocks me, her blade only briefly losing a hold twitching backwards and then coming to a still.

‘’To rough?’’ I tease, as she grabs for the long handle with her left hand the pressure against my blade turning prominent. Fuck. I didn’t expect in the slightest that she would be even able to push against me. But that’s maybe because I didn’t focus on taking a hold of my Geom in a proper way like I should have. I underestimated her.

She doesn’t reply initially, but offers a smirk jaw locked tight. To my astonishment she unpredictably steps back, and raises her Geom ready to strike down, which I block successfully intercepting her attacks from the get go. The fact remains that tips the balance contradictory to my own belief and those of my hyungs as with my brief lack of concentration, everything changes – words fill my mind – because she has managed from the get go to legitimately push me backwards. She has me moving, whole body getting in tune and reflexes to work as two close calls of the metal coming in contact with me have me focusing solemnly on her.

It isn’t until she’s out of breath that she jumps back like in the beginning, and simply breathes harshly through her nose. That’s the weakness of being a human. Getting tired. I know it’s not fair but I take my chance and charge forward, confident that I’ve got an easy win under my belt.

But as I move forward faster than I should I’ll admit her left hand reaches and gets in line with where my sword is pointed at. She’s reaching forward as if she is about to pick an apple, the action itself insane. That has me stopping right before the blade can touch, forcing my whole body to a halt. That’s when she strikes, finger wrapping onto the top of my blade against the blunt part of it.

It all happens so fast even for me, as she holds onto my weapon and just like the first time, she’s finds herself right up in my personal space, her blade finding a home under my chin it seems.

Her face is almost feral – that’s how I’d describe it the easiest. She’s showing her blunt teeth as she breathes fast heart absolutely pounding in her chest, as she glares at me the fire I saw before has turned into some sort of a blizzard, and hunger. The cheers that erupt of disbelief and glee get all muted - her blood is calling out to me. I can feel it vibrating in her veins, pumping steadily though her heart. It sounds like a forgotten lullaby her speeding but regulating steady heartbeat. It brings a taste of nostalgia forward.

The smile that stretches across her lips seems newly unique, only for my eyes – there’s of course that prominent sense of victory, happiness that’s prominent in her whole being still only inches away from me.

I’m left blinking in confusion, the hold of my blade being let go as someone pulls her backwards the cold blade that was located under my chin retreating as well as her warmth and now prominent smell of fruitiness, and something else that I can almost taste in the air – something that kind of remind me of the smell I remember that came from my own clothes when I was still a human.

‘’Ah our sweet Golden Maknae, it seems you have meet you’re match in at least one category!’’ Jin cheers throwing his arm over my shoulders, looking extremely gleeful as he starts poking my sides. I twist at his ministration but keep watching as Hoseok lifts Y/N up onto his shoulders, her hands free from weapons and desperate to hold onto something as she dangerously shifts and tries to balance herself on his shoulders. His oblivious jumping spree continues despite her cries of protests with Jimin standing behind the two ready to catch her as Taehyung dances along with the vampire that’s carrying her.

I can’t shake off the tingles that seem to entrap me in a sense, running over my skin prickling at my long stopped beating heart. I stare almost dumbly listening to the shouts and cheers from the human girl, that decided to act along with the boys’ antics easily following and mimicking them having the time of her life judging by the giant smile she has on, and adorable chuckles that raise. But the smile she gave me doesn’t resemble this one, one bit. The one I got was more – her.

‘’Good effort, Jeongguk-ah.’’ Yoongi speaks up appearing finally on my right, hand holding onto his Geom once more. Meeting his eyes, they seem soft the smirk he has not too promising for my dignity ‘’Of course you’ve managed to accomplish all the don’ts than do’s in what I’ve taught you, but it was a good lesson nonetheless.’’

Jin stars laughing immediately agreeing with Yoongi, the jokes and mockery following after.

I hate losing, I despise it with my whole being given that I’m not sure if I still have a soul. And even though irritation is brewing under my skin, I can’t find myself to feel real anger of any sorts. She threw me off too much to completely understand the feeling I’m experiencing, in regards of her.

Of course, I still don’t like her, why would I pfffff. This is only a reason more that I need to start and upstage her frankly speaking. I’m not jealous of her being in hyung’s good graces or anything childish like that but…I’m the golden maknae. I need to knock her down a peg or two.

I find myself watching her like a hawk, awaiting the anger and frustration to hit me…it doesn’t. And that’s concerning me slightly.

*A few days later*

I squint automatically at the spill and change of contrasting light that floods into the room. My eyes are quick to adapt but my brain forces me to react humanly. Rounding the corner, I’m met with a wide and open door that leads to the side of the mansion, into the gardens and towards the pathway that leads towards the garage. I sigh annoyed that someone is trying to start a prank war again. It’s a poor prank just leaving the doors open, but the sun that’s shinning inside is frankly bothersome enough to diminish my mood.

I was having a good match going on the whole night, winning every time of course setting new records. The peckish-ness appeared out of nowhere – I fed 2 days ago, there’s no reason why I’m feeling hungry again. I should be fine and yet, my throat itches uncomfortably enough so that I need to take plan B; Take a blood bag from the fridge to calm myself down.

I rarely do this, hating the cold and very artificial taste that the bag leaves on the blood. But the blood bags are there for this exact reason.

I stand at the entrance of the lavish kitchen and dining area on my right and place my hands onto my hips just contemplating my life choices as one does in the middle of the day – or night for some. Why does it have to be so sunny, why can’t it just keep raining. Of course, it has been a while since I’ve seen sunlight, but I sure as hell didn’t miss it that much. It’s absolutely glowing against the polished marble flooring, and reflecting all over the clean white kitchen.

There are bowls on the kitchen island, the presence of them making me listen in a focus for a moment if someone is close and trying to scare me. Silence. Strange. Approaching the kitchen island and avoiding the stray odd ray of sunlight that stretches across the room, thanks to a curtain being moved, I see pastry has been laid out on a wooden desk. Two banana’s lies on another chopping board still intact, while a gooey brown substance resides in a pot next to the pastry.

I’m so confused. What is this supposed to be?

Looking around for Jin hyung I’m left wondering if he’s back at experimenting with human food and trying to impress our annoying temporary human resident. Last time he baked 10 cakes, of different flavours, which the human did thank him over hundreds of times for, but barely made a dent in them. We had to throw them out after 4 days, with Jin hyung reasoning that it’s logical as they were going to go bad. Sounds like bullshit to me as in my time cakes were a delicacy to get often, but I feel as if they are more compact and longer lasting than 4 days but what do I know about human food. Eh.

Glancing towards outside keeping my eyes trained on the marble flooring I pick up on someone talking fast and thoughts of How lovely and kind, she is flooding my mind That girl has a knack for flowers, and it helps that she’s extra nice unlike most of Mr. Min’s friends I block out the gardeners thoughts as they continue wandering about Yoongi…yet again. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I take the chance squinting and frowning at the brightness even more prominent, my eyes trained to the outside watching as Y/N stumbles over her feet but recollects herself. She’s carrying a small bouquet of what seem like lavender coloured roses. I didn’t even know we grow those. The flowers don’t look that nice during the night I’ll admit that. But I know Jin hyung wanted multi coloured flowers, and I know there was a Boquete of blue roses placed on this very kitchen island some time ago.

I watch as the girl jumps exaggeratingly childish and cheerful onto the concrete ground of the mansions floor and short patio. Her bare feet make barely any noise, as she approaches.

‘’Oh, hey what are you doing up still?’’ she asks squinting but due to the contrast she must be experiencing. I’m surprise she spotted me outside. She kinda looks that sort of an adorable-ugly.

‘’You do know that we don’t sleep right?’’ I ask hesitant not sure if she knows this fact. I stare at her, ready to bolt to her aid as she stumbles again once she steps inside closing her eyes and taking 2 steps blindly ahead.

‘’I know that, I meant as in up now. Everyone is usually closed off at this time.’’ she’s quick to explain opening her eyes carefully, looking around still squinting the ugliness still there.

‘’I should be asking you why are you up instead. Aren’t you usually dead asleep by this time?’’ I turn the conversation around, watching as she reaches the counter and places the roses on it, turning back to the doors. I snort to myself at her choice of clothing being a white shirt with jean overalls that hang slightly lose on her.

‘’To be honest I drank one energy drink or two too much, so I’m wide awake.’’ She replies turning to look at me, expression relaxing into a normal one, eyes still blinking quickly a few more times glossiness present in them ‘’Do you mind the doors?’’ the question has my brows rising in question ‘’Is the light bothering you? I can close them, if it is.’’

Surprised I contemplate for a moment, preferring that she does close the door off but there’s something more to her unusual question ‘’I’m fine with them as they are.’’ I lie and sit myself on the second bar stool from the right corner of the kitchen island, making sure I’m keeping a safe distance from the pesky sun.

‘’Oh good.’’ she sighs in relief perking up ‘’To be honest I didn’t even know how much I’ve missed the sun.’’ the short explanation is happy as she practically skips over to the doors anyways.

‘’Hm I bet you do.’’ I mumble reaching out for one rose, seeing with the corner of my eye as she slips into a pair of slippers that she has left near the wall which I didn’t even notice were there.

‘’Do you?’’ looking up she doesn’t seem like she means anything ill with the question. I think she’s naïve enough to be genuinely curious.

I take a moment to think about it looking out at the brightness, while she goes to rummage around the cabinets ‘’I’m not sure.’’ I admit ‘’I miss sightseeing certain places in day-light. It’s just easier going at night, instead of putting a ton of cream to my skin, and having an umbrella along.’’ I ramble remembering the time when I visited Paris alone. I put a ton of sun cream on, and picked out a designer umbrella, but the curious looks and people randomly asking me to take pictures with them as they thought I was a model or something got tiresome really fast.

‘’Hmm, that would guarantee unwanted attention I’m sure.’’ Her comment has me turning to her again curious as it’s like she read right through my thoughts. She’s filling out a vase or just a tall ornate glass up with water, face portraying her concentration with the matter.

‘’So, whenever you aren’t hanging out with vampires are you usually acting as a regular human being then?’’ I ask interested in her answer and maybe to learn more about her. Even though hyungs have quickly grown to thrust her, I still have my reservations. She talks a lot like A LOT but she never really reveals to much exclusively about herself.

I get a snort in reply eyes meeting my own briefly with a slight glare and edge before she turns to the vase and flowers ‘’It differentiates.’’ She starts ‘’I used to have a job high up somewhat, so yeah, I’ve spent the last couple of years just working. Working, sleeping and eating.’’ I’m taken a back at the new information not having expected her to reply seriously ‘’Had to be on point and available 24/7. You know how greedy humans can get.’’ She sighs tiredly. I can’t argue with that statement so I simply offer a faint nod, watching as her fingers work delicately over the flower petals, rearranging them around neatly. She accepts the flower I was toying with, with a small smile ‘’So one day when I was going to a library to do some research for a project I was doing, I stumbled upon a revelation and just decided to quit.’’

Taking a step back she cheers up instantly ‘’Ta-da.’’ I observe her mirthfulness observing her as she steps over to the sink, letting the water on as she runs her hands under it ‘’So with that done, and wanting to avoid confrontation as any normal human being…’’ I roll my eyes at that knowing what lengths humans are willing to take to avoid confrontations ‘’…I hoped on a plane and, after 5 hours from landing I walked right through your front door.’’ She ends her explanation, whipping her hands with a kitchen cloth.

‘’Just like that huh? No attachments nothing?’’ she nods immediately as I tilt my head shifting after to rest it over my bent left arm ‘’Aren’t you humans known for unnecessarily attachments to people and objects?’’

She chuckles at my statement nodding and smirking amused, hands set in motion as she stirs the gooey substance in the small pot. Smells like chocolate but the melted kind ‘’You’re right about that for the most part and people. But I’ve been sort of a nomad my whole life. Never stayed in one place for too long.’’ She shrugs spreading the substance all over the pastry working meticulously and evening it all out ‘’Didn’t find a reason to settle down.’’

‘’Why thought? Did your parents move a lot so that’s why you can’t find a place you genuinely like?’’ having studied a bit of psychology I pick up on her not fully revealed and rounded answer. She’s generalizing herself a lot. Her movements don’t stop or pause in hesitation at my question.

‘’The second part is more correct in a sense. My parents eh they were what they were.’’ Again, she shrugs, placing the two bananas on the edge of the pastry ‘’I moved a lot with my partner actually. We went on adventures and whatnot, ready to marry and all that jazz.’’ I raise both eyebrows feeling perplexed not having expecting that from the likes of her. That sounds a lot harsher than I intended it to but…I would have never expected her to want to marry, or well be serious about it.

For some reason I can’t imagine her being paired up with any regular man or woman, specially not human for some reason. It feels wrong, feels like nobody ordinary like that can handle her.

‘’Tragedy?’’ I ask assuming the progression of her story.

‘’Yep!’’ she replies too cheerfully for the theme of the conversation, popping the ‘p’ childishly ‘’Wasn’t meant to be.’’ She offers a smile as she looks at me, not looking that particular sad. It must have taken her a long time to get over it thought, because her eyes aren’t matching the mask that she has put on. I can heart the almost pitter patter of her slightly speed up heart. And the shakiness to her hands isn’t missed.

‘’Most things aren’t.’’ I agree remembering my own human experience. I was meant to marry a girl from my village. Being a fisherman, third generation I was meant to uphold the family tradition, and have managed to snob the prettiest girl. But yeah. Not everything is destined to happen as you expect them to. Although looking back I know Na-yeon was wrong for me in all aspect. Even back then with my human set mind and precepting I was mostly doing it as it was expected of me, and not because I genuinely wanted it ‘’Also what are you even doing?’’ I find myself frowning as she starts to roll the whole thing together, bananas disappearing inside the roll.

She doesn’t even respond for a moment, and has stopped breathing. I’m about to stand up and help her out force her to breathe when she straightens up grinning widely again that triumphant expression I’ve seen before present.

‘’A HA!!!!’’ she cheers removing her hands away carefully looking extremely proud at the brown coloured roll that’s left on the tray ‘’I present to you, a perfectly made chocolate banana pudding roll!!’’ she presents’ hands pointing at it dramatically.

I glance at the severely unimpressed desert ‘’Judging by that crack right there, it isn’t as perfect as you claim it to be actually.’’

‘’What no!’’ she rushes leaning over it, bumping her hips into the stone counter. Curses raise, sounding way to rough for the image of a soft girl that she’s unintentionally portraying as of today. She preoccupies herself with inspecting the roll ending up frowning as she straightens up hands placed on the counter while she glares at the desert as if it has offended her.

‘’If it’s any consolation if I were still human, I’d eat it.’’ my words have her shoulders softening up as she shifts and eyes it some more. Her lower lips juts out slightly mouth forming into this sort of adorable hurt puppy pout.

But it only lasts a few seconds, lips quick to turn upwards onto a thankful smile ‘’Thanks.’’ Once her eyes meet my own, I get this odd warm sensation in my chest, seeing her brighten up thanks to my words and encouragement.

‘’Your welcome.’’

*A few days later, later*

‘’I don’t understand why I have to be the one to check on her.’’

A pause ‘’Probably because you’re the only one to dislike her the most. And the most probable to not make any advances.’’ At this I immediately fake throwing up, Taehyung chuckles following as on que ‘’See?’’ he points out smirking ‘’Namjoon hyung got almost punched when he accidentally told a pick-up line yesterday. She didn’t even register it, but Yoongi hyung just went off on him. Poor Namjoonie.’’ He tuts shaking his head finding hyungs predicament funny judging by the smirk he has on.

‘’As perceptive as she is, she can be so annoyingly dull.’’ I half snarl exasperated groaning to myself.

‘’That’s mean Jeonggukie.’’ He raises a complaint ‘’Don’t be so cocky. There’s always more than meets the eye. Even in regards of humans.’’

‘’Yeah, we’ve all seen that but…’’ looking at Taehyung that’s still walking besides me, arm brushing against my own mischievously now and then – he’s giving me this fond look as his eyes take me in. We start to slow our steps down, as we’ve reached the doors that led to the library.

‘’But?’’ he insists as I shrug stuffing my hands into the front pockets of the oversize black hoodie I have on.

‘’I just don’t like her.’’ I mumble, glancing towards the door lowering my tone.

‘’Yeah why is that?’’ glancing up I’m surprised at the way he narrows his eyes, and gets sort of serious, licking his lips quickly.

It’s easy to let the frustration rise up again, get a hold of me around my throat choking me up for a moment as I have to think what to tell him exactly. He’s smarter than he looks, always two steps in front of you, catching Yoongi and Jin hyung of guard even though the two of them have practically seen it all in all the years they’ve been alive. This isn’t said in vain when others warn against Taehyung. He’s as cunning as he is stunning.

‘’It’s the way she is! She just gets on my nerves you know.’’ I try lamely frowning gaze going to the doors ‘’The way she breathes is exaggerated, the way she talks, her voice is way to scratchy and of pitched, the lack of manners towards hyungs ugh…’’ If I was human, I’d shudder from anger but I simply close my eyes in frustration that part of her still irking me greatly ‘’…and the way she keeps on wearing hyungs clothes, and not sleeping enough. Does she even eat enough? What is that all about.’’

I end up glaring at Taehyung who nods once holding his serious demander but soon after ends up smirking widely eyes sparkling almost. He arches an eyebrow clearly having thought of something ‘’There’s also the fact that she almost beat your score in Overwatch.’’

‘’THAT TOO!!’’ I half exclaim throwing my hands in the air, then proceed to step up and don for a moment ‘’With my reflexes how is that possible?!’’ Taehyung just keeps nodding in understanding ‘’She’s a child that’s what she is! Doesn’t reach any level where we are, mentally and maturely.’’

‘’Pfff says the late bloomer himself.’’ I stop moving around and give hyung a challenging glare.

‘’I wasn’t that late. Just had extra on my plate in regards of my abilities.’’ I pout going into a similar pose as the beginning just standing closer to the doors.

‘’Aigo, Aigo, Golden maknae.’’ He tuts affectionately walking closer hand coming up to place it over my shoulder as he leans close to me ‘’You’ve got a fair point there yes, but don’t you think that we’ve had to accept you too in the beginning? That there weren’t any let’s say fractions of hesitance’s from our parts?’’

At this my nose scrunches up as I know it’s true, about their reservations when it came to me. My telepathy came at a disadvantage in the beginning, strength easily frightening even Hoseok hyung who is considered to be the best fighter in our clan.

‘’That’s it Jeonggukie. I see how your clogs are starting to turn. Do you see my point?’’

‘’She’s human hyung. There’s a difference.’’ At this he waves his hand straightening up.

‘’Meaning it’s in your favour if you really despise her that much. She’ll die judging by her bad lifestyle choices in a decade or two. Maybe three.’’ He shrugs attitude way to uncaring unlike our conversation a few days ago where he praised her and defended her loudly against Jimin who was upset at her yet another refusal. So, the switch has me second guessing him, and myself as…I didn’t even think about her dying.

It causes that boulder that hasn’t left my stomach to churn and twist, burning even at the thought of imagining seeing her lifeless body.

I don’t even notice that we’ve fallen silent until hyung speaks up again ‘’Anyways I’m gonna go find Jin hyung and maybe convince him to go to the city with me. I need new pair of shoes and a new collection is rumoured to be just on the verge of launching.’’ He wiggles his eyebrows patting my shoulder for a moment in consolation before he’s backing away, right hand stuck in the pocket of his pants whilst he gives me a finger gun with his left-hand winking a cold breeze of air whooshing past me, his eyes for a brief second turning icy blue ‘’Good luck, Bunny. And be nice to our human. They are fragile creatures after all.’’

I tilt my head in confusion staring at him ready to ask what he means by that but he disappears in a blink of an eye taking off leaving me alone. Even though I don’t exactly need air to breathe I do take it in and sigh, recollecting the confusion that are my emotions and have been for the past few days. Spinning on my heel I glance towards the double doors which are decorated with golden motifs, having been painted into white the wood barely peeking through unlike the inner side that displaying the many years the tree had before it was chopped down.

Pressing onto the handle of the left door I silently without making any sounds enter the big room from another perspective, the other entrance being in the ballroom whilst this one leads inside from a corridor that connects to the music room in the back of this huge house.

Nothing seems out of the usual as I take a look at the ground floor. Nothing moves either. I can hear her speed up heart and breathing, murmurs now and then cutting of the serenity. I walk over to the table that has been left since the “party” we’ve had. The name plates have been removed from its surface but it has been filled up by different books, and scrolls even. I glance over the few notebooks and stray papers here and there easily recognising Namjoon’s handwriting as well as Yoongi hyungs. The cracked screen of the iPad is mocking me as it lays unsafely on one corner of the table.

What has my immediate attention is a different looking notebook. I smirk in amusement as this handwriting is as of a child, words scribbled down in a fast pace, letters somewhere half formed or just distorted, even smudged. There’s an ink stain from a hand near the edge of the page, which I brush my own fingers over it. I can’t read through the text as it’s written in another language, and the choice of letters themselves are unusual. I don’t think I can even pronounce any word.

I’m not really here to offer my academic assistance as I barely speak any English myself, but it’s kind of nice to see that her character is clearly portrayed in the way she writes, and how she fills the page up irregularly. She’s as chaotic in real life and on paper.

Musing for a moment further spotting glasses and bottles of water on the other end of the lengthy table, I do glance upwards towards the second floor, hearing as a pen or something small as a pen clatters hitting the ground. By the lack of movement, I already figured she was asleep.

Silly human. Her life style is really un-well and extremely badly planned. Stepping around the table my intention on getting the girl and carrying her to her bedroom, gets postponed as my eyes shift onto a book, that for whatever reason has my feet stopping.

The gold of the cover is unusual between the rest of the books with used and dried up leather and yellowed pages. I pick it up, buried in between a stack of smaller scrolls and encyclopaedias actually. I frown at the title; it’s about mythology. Every kind actually.

What’s the most puzzling is that it’s written by hand. And the handwritings differentiate. Multiple people worked on this, and judging by the smell of the ink and paper things have been added or pulled out. Pictures are drawn here and there, and languages vary from all around the world from what I can judge by some symbols and added explanations in English.

There’s a myth about Thor, expanding at least 20 pages. Another myth about Pele a Hawaiian goddess covers well over 30 pages with many illustrations, and instructions from what I can assume for tattoos.

Shifting around I do recognize myths from the hand drawn images instead of their native titles. Nearing almost the end of the book, as I sniff at the pages and feeling like a complete idiot for a moment, I have to sit down as these are completely new pages added to this. Taking a look across the table, I find the A4 format pages placed near the corner just ahead of me, along with an old type-y looking pen with ink next to it.

Turning a page, I recognise the writing as being Jin hyungs which completely catches me of guard. Is this what they have been working on? Writing about myths?!

Don’t we have a coven war brewing?

Shuffling through the many written pages coming to the last one, I stare blankly for a moment the myth about Dangun which I know as it’s of Korean mythology. And as appropriate it is written in Korean.

What am I missing here? Why have they been working on this?! Why did other people work on this?! I pull the pages going slowly backwards, seeing stories actually unfolding. It’s not hard to connect the dots after a few pages, that these are from Yoongi hyung. But these are dating WAYYYY back in the millennia it feels like when hyung was as young as we are now it seems. But he was more mature definitely.

I frown at a half empty page where a sketch has been drawn into a half finished only the golden frame being finished. The sketch though - I can tell that linear lines are spears and, some even arrows that are sticking from what seems to be a pile of bodies on the floor? Only one figure is standing in the centre of the picture, with their back towards us armour robust and yet slim in a sense. I narrow my eyes at the handle of the soldier – the pommel is shaped like a pouncing lion.

Battle of Hwangsanbeol

That’s the title. I know about it from what hyung told me, but this is written much more in detail. The main explanation is from what humans are being told in schools, I remember it from college when I studied mechanics years ago. But the new ink underneath and Yoongi hyungs writing, is an indicator that this is where his story begins.

He didn’t take sides in particular, changing armours as he shifted from a Silla’s soldier into a soldier of the Tang army. The similarity is there with added commentary to make you know more about how life was then. What gets my attention is the comradery between hyung and another fellow that name is very generalized. They’ve struck a friendship and have covered for one another in battle, which had him switching sides and to remain with the Silla side out of curiosity and maybe even naivety he describes it. He didn’t have as much experience then as he does now to have judged everything smartly enough, even though the odds were clearly in Silla’s favour.

The praise towards the human soldier is tremendous, giving him full credit of saving his life more than once. And even though he was a turned by that point into an immortal, the praise has even me feeling grateful towards the man.

He did raise up in ranks, but he never left Yoongi behind. During the main battle after the slaughter, he describes his fellow soldier as being remorseful, as they stared across the field of many fallen soldiers and warriors and manslaughter that stretched miles away it had seemed at the time. It was brutal but necessary – I forget that hyung is from a completely different timeline sometimes. It’s easy to mistake him, and others for younger vampires.

The solider…tilting my head I spot a few notes written lightly over hyungs hand-writing. My frown deepens as the anger I felt before towards her starts to simmer - it’s not hard to see that this is Y/N’s handwriting. Her comments are absolutely ridiculous, playing hyung’s praise off – she’s dismissing it. How dare she? What does she know about wars, she was born in peaceful times, I bet to a good family! She hasn’t never experienced the horrors of wars, the stench, the travesty the fear the…

‘’No!’’ a shout has me glancing up stiffly. I notice how my fingers have curled into fists and how tight my jaw has locked together from anger ‘’…don’t…’’ she breathes out her heart beat now hammering. Confused I glance upwards thinking that she’s playing a joke on me. I’m ready to fucking snap at her – if she really is pulling a joke on me right now, I’m going to kick her out of the house myself.

‘’Ah no…’’ her words shift a cry following. What? Standing up I wait for amount further listening to her speed up breathing that’s sounds like hysteria ‘’NOOOO DON’T TAKE HIM NOOO!!!!!!’’ her cry is of terror and panic. It absolutely shocks me to my core but has me moving upwards, reaching the second floor and top of stairs in a second ‘’NO HE’S MY SOU…’’ she continues to shout switching to another language panic rising.

I’m completely disoriented by the mess that I find on the upper floor, books pulled and settled in piles on the ground, as posters of maps hang up over the book’s shelves. The 2 floor is sort of a balcony going half around the room above both entrances. After legit 2 spins around myself, I pick up on a mattress actually located in the very corner of the library. There’s a sheet stuck to the bent down ceiling, and a ton of blankets are thrown around the mattress.

I can see her finally, leg sticking up shoulder peeking over as she shifts onto her side ‘’Agápi mou, agápi mouuuuu…’’

‘’Shhhhh Y/N-ah.’’ I whisper as I run to her side, kneeling right next to her, my hands coming in contact with her overheated skin. She’s drenched in sweat, and twitching like crazy as if she’s fighting someone ‘’Wake up Y/N-ah it’s just a dream it’s not real, it’s not real!’’

‘’No…don’t go…’’ I pull her body into my lap without a second thought. As I brush her hair away from her face she flinches away probably because of my cooler hand. She’s overheating. What catches me of guard and has me whining is the tears that are running down her cheeks.

‘’Y/N-ah wake up, please wake up! It’s not real okay, it’s just a nightmare! You’re here with me in the library safe and sound! Come on you silly human wake up.’’ I urge her on rambling shaking her gently. She startles awake, eyes flying open hands in fists ready to fight. I half expect her to punch me but once her eyes find mine, she ends up smiling tiredly body immediately going lax in my hold.

‘’My love.’’ She says in Korean right hand reaching up, left palm pressed flat against my chest where my heart is.

‘’Don’t fall back asleep.’’ I try as her eyes fall close back again, her breathing having stabilized somewhat ‘’The one time I legit want to hang out with you, you suddenly want to sleep ah? The disrespect.’’ I laugh worried as I take her in. The bags under her eyes are prominent, and her cheeks which looks sort of more sunken aren’t reassuring me with her wellbeing at all.

I stare as her eyes blink open, taking me in clearly her hand that’s resting over my chest raises up shakily to cup my other cheek.

The blissful expression that settled before turns into a frown and a pout, as her eyes take my features in the change in mood confusing me with what to do. I readjust my hold gently, holding her steadily in my arms, making sure I’m not pressing to much of my skin against hers. I’ve heard from others that humans don’t like our colder skin in particular.

‘’Jeongguk-ah.’’ She states to which I offer a smile immediately as she seems to be coming back from wherever her mind took her.

‘’Yep. That’s my name.’’ I reply feeling her body tense up but not prominently. She’s waking up slowly at her own pace. She hums suddenly and pulls her hands back. I have to stop myself from wanting to tell her that it’s fine if she wants to touch me. That only conflicts my emotions all the more.

‘’Sorry am…was I making too much noise?’’ she asks gathering her thoughts, eyes darting around getting clearer as she notices the odd position we’ve fallen into.

‘’No, not at all.’’ I says wanting to immediately start reassuring her that everything is fine and she didn’t do anything wrong, but I have a hunch she’s not going to believe me either way ‘’Hyung wanted to see where you were exactly, and I was bored so. Two birds in one stone.’’

I help her up, as she starts to shift wanting to sit on her own. Silence begins after my brief explanation and after I’ve helped her sit back down onto the mattress. Without her permission I grab for a warm looking blanket and pull it over her shoulders, sitting down properly right next to her having this need to be as close as possible. Maybe I should offer a hug? Please say yes.

‘’What time is it even?’’ comes her question before I can ask her my own. She starts sifting more towards me, in the beginning of her sudden restlessness keeping the blanket around herself as she reaches with both hands upwards to rub her fingers across her eyes.

‘’Around 10AM.’’ I reply glancing towards the curtains, that are letting through sunlight from outside across the polished wooden floors only ‘’I think Jin hyung missed you at breakfast today.’’ I offer a smile while she pulls her hands away, running one through her messy hair quickly. She’s hunched forward into what seems like an awkward position – her gaze still seems far off like she’s not fully present yet.

‘’Oh yeah breakfast.’’ She mumbles glancing to the end of the mattress, to which I notice more pages and a silver notebook that has slid from the edge of the makeshift bed the papers all sprawled on the ground clearly by accident ‘’I didn’t mean to sleep.’’ She starts clearly her brain slowly starting up as she looks at me finally absently scratching the back of her head ‘’My back started to hurt, so I figured I should lay down or lean against the wall.’’ Ah so that’s why there are so many blankets piled up against the wall behind us.

‘’You should think more about getting proper sleep.’’ I comment ‘’I’m sure as great as this place is and cosy, I bet a proper bed would feel a lot nicer.’’

My heart and stomach flutter as she breaks into a small smile looking back to me amused ‘’Heard that before.’’

I shake my head immediately ‘’Uh huh. And if you’d listen, I think that would magically stop too.’’

She chuckles at my words, the gesture filling me with sort of pride that I actually made her smile and laugh. Oddly I want to comfort her properly. I want to make sure that she’s alright. Seeing her so distressed it…I can’t help but to still feel a bit freaked out myself. Her state is worrisome. Traces of her tears are still present over her puffy cheeks.

‘’So...’’ I start awkwardly ‘’Are you okay?’’

At this she looks away smile disappearing slowly ‘’I’m fine.’’ Another smile raises over her slightly dry lips this one clearly forced. She’s putting up a front – I just want to help her.

‘’You…’’

‘’I’m fine!’’ she’s quick to add not even looking at me swiftly pushing herself away, crawling over to the fallen notes, hands prompt with gathering her things ‘’Its fine. Totally fine.’’ She repeats it like a mantra, almost doubling over when she attempts to stand up ‘’I got it!’’ after the exclamation she’s up on her feet, proudly smiling goofiness making an appearance ‘’Totally A okay!!!’’

Frowning I’m quick to stand up following as she starts walking forward, feet slipping into her slippers before descending down the steps.

‘’You sure are saying that a lot for someone that just woke up screaming.’’ I don’t hold myself back this time. Even though I can’t see her face as she’s slowly descending down, the spring in her step isn’t present as much. She always walks with a bounce to her.

‘’This is the first time, it happened.’’ She huffs walking straight over to the table once her feet reach the ground. I grimace at her blatant lie, having heard her before in similar states that make much more sense now. But it’s always Yoongi that’s was at her side, specially whenever she went to sleep. It is different completely different to hear her from across the house, than from seeing her up close. It gives new meaning to her as a person.

‘’Yes, but it’s the first time that I’ve seen you sleep and wake up like that.’’ I point out as she places her notes on the desk, probably noticing the opened book I’ve left behind in my haste. Her head remains turned towards it, eyes going over the opened page ‘’You have nightmares every time you sleep, don’t you?’’

Taking the last two steps my feet touch the ground floor. I wait for her response as I make my way over to her left side, standing near her but putting enough distance to give her personal space. She flips the golden book to a close, placing a random one atop of it, shoulders shrugging in the meantime. Is she trying to hide it away from me? Or herself?

‘’A lot of people have nightmares, Jeongguk-ssi.’’ The serious look she gives me, irks me in a bad way. And not as in before where I felt agitated selfishly thinking of myself, but in a way that she’s treating me distantly - like I’ve been treating her more or less. The honorific is just the cheery on top. I think the phrase ‘give him some of his own medicine’ is appropriate to point out right now.

‘’Not like that.’’

She keeps staring at me upholding the glare she settles on. It’s so different from what I’ve seen her be and act around others. For the first time, I feel like I see another side of her which she clearly doesn’t like to reveal to anyone. Or anyone that’s not hyung. It’s starting to really bother me. Of course, I don’t really want her hurting or in pain, what just had occurred is something I’m ever going forget, but I’m sort of glad that I was here to snap her out of whatever nightmare she was in. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. She looked completely heartbroken, and lost.

Seeing that she has taken up a stubborn approach, it’s hard to miss the way her body trembles. Wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, and a simple t-shirt the difference in temperature has her obviously chilly maybe even cold.

Given that she doesn’t intend to lose whatever staring contest we have going on, I end up breaking it and reach for the end of my hoodie, tugging it over my head smoothly ‘’Here.’’ I say offering. She doesn’t reveal how surprised she is on the outside – only her heart jumping slightly does – but she does raise an eyebrow in question ‘’You look cold and neither of us need hyung to scold us if you’ll catch the flue.’’ If I was a human, I know my cheeks would be bright red as my reasoning is clearly lame.

She accepts the hoodie with a quiet ‘thank you’ and tugs in on quickly ‘’Okay so, where was I? You can help me move some stuff and get books I need…’’ I’m pleasantly surprised that she’s quick to fall into her work after what just happened. I do keep myself quiet as this is clearly a distraction. But the smile that raises over my lips I cannot stop. Even with her back turned towards me, she looks good in my clothes. My hoodie suits her. And I’m sure my scent will mix better with hers than hyung’s.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Dictionary: Dangun - was the legendary founder and god-king of Gojoseon, the first Korean kingdom Gaya also rendered Kaya or Karak - is the presumed language of the Gaya confederacy in southern Korea Geom - is the generic term for "sword", but more specifically also refers to a shorter straight-blade, double-edged sword with a somewhat blunted tip Lavender roses - is often a sign of enchantment and love at first sight. Those who have been enraptured by feelings of love and adoration have used lavender roses to express their romantic feelings and intentions. Agápi mou /Greek/ - My love

#jeon jungkook x reader #bts vampire au #BTS jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts vampire #bts jungguk #bts jeon jungkook #jeongguk x reader #bts romance #bts jeon jeongguk #yoongi vampire #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fluff

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unpack-my-heart · 4 years

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I Would Not Wish Any Companion In The World But You

READ ON AO3 HERE

@tinyarmedtrex @xandertheundead @moonlightrichie @toziesque @constantreaderfool @violetreddie @eds-trashmouth @oldguybones

9th January 2003 // 06:24am

There are fifty four seats on the subway. Fifty four seats split across two carriages. Eddie knows this because he’s counted them. He’s counted them, over and over again, when he boards at seventy-eighth street, and takes the blue line south into the city every day at 06:24am. The air whips around his head cruelly, a mocking tempest that whispers in his ear, the rest of the world slumbers, the rest of the world sleeps like the dead. The subway station is buried deep in the underbelly of the street, five flights of stairs below the surface. Eddie descends every day, Persephone to her kingdom beneath the earth, a daily pilgrimage that he’d rather not take.

The air whips around his head, a bizarre faux-breeze created by the whooshing of the subway trains, and Eddie seethes silently.

– X –

9th January 2003 // 06:45am

Fucking fucking fuck fuck fuck. He’s late. He can practically hear the subway pull into the station, bouncing on its tracks impatiently, as he skitters down the stairway, sending a suited-and-booted businessman flying, the skittle to Richie’s bowling ball. A “watch it, you fuckin’ lunatic” later, and Richie’s on the platform, panting breathlessly as the train ambles into view. His sneakers are soaking wet, an unwelcome parting gift from the storm raging outside, and he wiggles his toes miserably, wet socks clinging, limpet-like, to his skin.

The train is heaving. Faceless bodies jostle each other, wordless micro-fights for territory, but no-one wins the war. Richie slides onto the carriage, lodging himself securely between a woman with a bouffant hairdo that smells like hairspray and the end of the world, and a man with sunken eyes. The train lurches forward.

– X –

9th January 2003 // 07:03am

He’s back. Eddie can sense him before he sees him. It’s as if the air shifts, as if the static sings out one clear note, loud and piercing, before shifting back to white noise once more. He’s back. Eddie turns around, as subtle a movement as he can manage, and sure enough, the man with the floppy hair and the Midas eyes is standing awkwardly in the middle of the carriage, one hand grasping the rail so tightly his knuckles are white, the other clasping a cup of coffee that was surely destined to spill. The man’s routine is almost as predictable as Eddie’s, as regular as the ebb and flow of the tide. He boards Eddie’s train at Hazelwood, always thirty seconds before the doors shut tight, always with a red tinge to his face, always with his glasses steamed with the effort of schlepping his body through the station at lightning speed.

Eddie flexes his hand on the handle of his briefcase. The leather is damp with sweat. The train stops once more, people filter off, people shove their way on. The dance continues.

– X –

13th January 2003 // 06:15am

For the first time in a week, Eddie makes it to the station without the heavens splitting open. His coat remains dry, and the music from his headphones is loud and uninterrupted in his ears. The inky sky is dappled with stars that shine brightly, almost too brightly, and Eddie turns his back on them as he descends into the subway station once more, with Ian Curtis warbling in his ear. The stars do not miss him.

His phone buzzes, surely a text from the warm body he’d left slumbering in his bed mere minutes before. Eddie ignores it, and the phone buzzes feebly once more, until it sits petulantly still in his pocket.

“Spare any change, mate?”

Eddie nods his head, and scrabbles in his pocket, fingers skimming his phone, before he pulls out five coins. He places them in the hand that wobbles slightly in the air.

“Thanks, Sir.”

Eddie nods again, a sharp, jerky movement, and walks on.

– X –

15th January 2003 // 07:25am

The doors of the train yawn open, and Richie trips out. He turns around, face flushed with embarrassment, scanning the vacant faces that stare out of the windows at him, the faces that stare past him, all of them but one. One set of eyes, curious and concerned in equal measure, do not leave his until the train has heaved itself up off its haunches once more, and scuttled off into the tunnel. Richie stares after it for one, two, three beats, before he turns on his heel and walks away.

It takes fifteen minutes for Richie to get to the radio station, a building that looms over the sidewalk. He waves his pass at the disinterested looking guard, and begins his trek up the four flights of stairs to his cubicle.

“Hiya, Rich,” Mike Hanlon says, a honey’d voice, a voice made for talk radio and asking you how you take your eggs in the morning.

“Howdy, partn’r,” Richie returns, and Mike laughs.

Mike slips past him, and skips down the stairs, humming a small ditty that Richie didn’t recognise.

Half way through his lunchbreak, half eaten sandwich discarded at the edge of his desk, chip crumbs stuck to his fingers, Richie remembers those eyes, and the face the eyes belonged to.

– X –

18th February 2003 // 07:00am

“I’m on the train, the signal might dip out,” Eddie warns, but the crackly voice on the other end just laughs.

“It’ll be fine, babe.”

“I’m just saying, you might not –”

“Eddie? Eddie are you here? I can’t hear you”

Eddie rolls his eyes, glaring at the ceiling as if it had personally affronted him. “I warned you, Jasp.”

“Hello? Eddie? Helloooo?”

Eddie hangs up. The phone buzzes once in his hand, a text. Eddie doesn’t read it.

The train pulls into the next station, a few minutes late, and the air crackles. On cue, the man with the hunched shoulders and sloping nose crowds his way on, nestling himself between a girl smacking her gum loudly and a woman with a large, unfortunate wart on the end of his nose. The man looks cheerful, and he taps his foot restlessly to a silent beat. Eddie watches the man from where he’s standing a few feet away with his arm thrust in the air, hand gripping the hand rail, or rather, the magazine that he had placed between his hand and the rail, a perhaps futile attempt to keep his journey and his hand as germ free as possible.

Thoughts of work invade Eddie’s brain with a familiar war-cry of meeting at 9am with the Bainton Brothers, must call Christine about the Duffer case, have I filled in the paperwork for the audit next week? Eddie lets the thoughts percolate and ferment until he’s giddy from the fumes.

The train pulls into 6th Avenue and the man gets off the train. Eddie closes his eyes against the loss.

– X –

29th February 2003 // 06:47am

He’s late. He skids around the corner, lungs threatening to rupture against the cage of his ribs, and watches helplessly as the train pulls gracefully away from the platform and disappears into the mocking darkness of the tunnel. He’s really really late.

Richie swears under his breath, and crosses his arms against the cold. The arrivals board flashes. The next train into the city is due in six minutes.

– X –

29th February 2003 // 07:01am

Eddie wonders if he’s sick, or if he’s got a new job, or if he’s simply decided that he wants to get the 06:54 into the city instead of the 06:45. The realisation that he’d miss his nameless travel companion sucker punches Eddie in the gut with such force that he staggers back slightly. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and guilt shoots up his spine.

– X –

19th March 2003 // 06:53am

A pair of seats free up after Nasser St Station, and Richie victoriously slides into them. He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s managed to rest his still-half-asleep legs on his morning commute, so he savours each opportunity like a fine wine. He plops down into the seat by the window, and rests his forehead against the cool glass. The seat beside him remains unoccupied for a suspicious length of time, and, unable to ignore it any longer, Richie sits up straight and looks around, curious. The carriage is uncharacteristically empty, the usual throngs of people unaccounted for. A lone figure stands in the middle of the carriage, head bowed, nodding along in blink-and-you’ll-miss them movements to music playing from his headphones, the bassy undertone bleeding from them loud enough for Richie to hear, but he doesn’t recognise the song.

Richie coughs.

Nothing happens. The train continues forwards, dancing in and out of stations rhythmically, and the man standing in the middle of the carriage flexes his hand around the hand rail, the newspaper lodged between hand and rail crackling loudly.

Richie coughs again, and one cough becomes two, and two becomes three until he’s spluttering, a fake explosion that he hopes catches the attention of a certain someone.

“Are you alright?” a voice asks, and Richie stops coughing immediately.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he replies, and the woman returns to her seat, eyeing him curiously.

When Richie turns away, a sheepish grin plastered on his face, he locks eyes with the man in the middle of the carriage, and his smile widens involuntarily. The man continues to stare at Richie, or rather, stare next to Richie. His eyes are trained on the tired, threadbare covering of the unoccupied seat next to Richie, with his eyebrows knitted as if deep in thought. Richie blinks, teeth bared in a now manic grin, and the man jerks, taking a step forward on unsure feet but, at the last moment, he stops, right foot hovering stupidly in the air, the ghost of a step never to be taken.

An older woman that smells like talcum powder and lavender soap sits down next to Richie at the next stop. The man disappears from view, and the smile slides off Richie’s face like tar.

– X –

30th March 2003 // 07:13am

Eddie practically throws his briefcase onto the seat, the previous occupant barely out of the way before the briefcase lands on the seat with a loud thud. Disregarding the fact that he has to get off the subway in four stops, Eddie slumps into the seat. The backs of his heels sting, a punishment for having the audacity to replace his old shoes, shoes with large holes in the soles, and buttery leather scarred with cracks and creases. Preoccupied with his protesting feet, Eddie barely registers a figure pushing its way down the carriage, before a body lands on the seat next to his, narrowly missing Eddie’s hand which he withdraws with a silent hiss.

Annoyance stirs like snakes in Eddie’s gut, before he glances at the face of the person whose knee was pressed solidly against his. Their eyes meet and, immediately, Eddie stares at the floor.

The man with the impish grin and the bushy eyebrows shifts in the seat, his knee no longer touching Eddie’s, and Eddie counts to five in his head, long and slow.

– X –

30th March 2003 // 07:23

Richie shifts in his seat, trying desperately to recapture the attention of the man beside him, who was staring out of the window, eyes squinted with the force of his gaze, but Richie was sure that he was seeing nothing at all. The man was shorter than Richie, and slight, body wrapped carefully in a suit made from a soft looking fabric, and Richie’s fingers itched with desire to touch it, to dance his fingers along the swooping lines of the man’s arms. Richie taps his fingers against his own thighs, and he gets lost in the movement, absorbed in the tap-tap-tapping of his fingers against his leg, and before he knows it, and before he’s ready, the metallic voice echoes out across the carriage.

“The next stop is 6th avenue west, if you’re leaving us here please ensure you have …”

The voice fades into the background noise. The man beside him tenses. Richie stands. The man slumps back in his seat, head resting against the window. Richie leaves.

– X –

9th April 2003 // 1:32pm

He’d gotten the call the night before. Mike was off sick, a viral infection that had swollen his tonsils to the size of golf balls, and the station desperately needed someone to cover the afternoon slot. Richie, mainly out of sheer devotion to Mike Hanlon, had graciously agreed, and had left his morning slot in the capable hands of his co-host. He had still woken at the crack of dawn, his body refusing to sleep for longer than it was used to, but Richie petulantly lay in bed until 8:45am, refusing to get out of bed until his bladder screamed riotously and he had counted every crack in the ceiling of his bedroom.

He had strolled to the subway station, coffee in hand, Danish pastry sitting heavy in his belly, relishing in the ability to be unhurried, to take his time, to potter this way and that. The subway was, predictably, much quieter than it was in the morning. Three or four people stood on the platform with him, mostly young adults, clutching heavy rucksacks. The train pulled in, Richie stepped on, and, almost immediately, dropped his coffee.

– X –

9th April 2003 // 1:34pm

Eddie watched as the man with the scuffed sneakers and large hands dropped his coffee, caramel coloured liquid pooling on the floor. The man huffed, a noise that was as annoyed as it was embarrassed, and stared helplessly at the mess on the floor.

A great, hacking cough forced its way up Eddie’s throat and, despite his attempts to squash it down, he erupted into a coughing fit that he buried in his scarf, eyes screwed shut against the throbbing in his ears. His eyes were hazy, every blink a Promethean effort. The air was thick, thick like honey but not half as sweet, and it stoppered his aching lungs viciously. The man had abandoned the spilt coffee and was now sat on a seat that directly faced Eddie’s, concern etched onto his face. Eddie, barely able to turn his neck without pain shooting up it, shut his eyes against the concern, and let the gentle rocking of the train lull him into something not quite sleep.

– X –

9th April 2003 // 1:44pm

A small packet of tissues fell gracelessly into Eddie’s lap, and when Eddie turned to look out of the window, neck practically creaking under the effort, the molten amber eyes of the stranger met his.

– X –

21st May 2003 // 8:45pm

The first time he had seen them, small daggers of ‘did you really think’ and ‘are you quite that stupid’ had stabbed at Richie mercilessly. The second time he’d seen them had been worse, as the knife twisted and turned, a simple confirmation of the inevitable. Now, the third time, Richie was, thankfully, closer to careful apathy than ever before. They were laughing to each other, the braying hooting of the stranger contrasted with the quiet, gulpy laughter of the man Richie had spent practically every morning staring at, spurred on by cruel hope. Richie crossed his arm, the leather of his jacket rustling loudly, loudly enough that the object of Richie’s misguided infatuation glanced over at him. His eyes widened, a minute action but magnified under the intensity of Richie’s gaze, before he looked away, before he looked back at the man whose arm he was nestled under, and pointedly didn’t look at Richie again.

Cruel hope reared its ugly head once more upon Richie’s realisation that the man with the sandy hair and the laughter lines that Richie had studied so often never sat quite as close to his hulking brute boyfriend again.

– X –

12th June 2003 // 8:34pm

Jasper was ignoring him. He was jabbing at his phone obnoxiously, body angled away from Eddie’s deliberately. He didn’t notice when Eddie stood up, and moved to the seat across the aisle. He didn’t notice when Eddie collapsed in on himself, supernova turned supermassive black hole. He didn’t notice when Eddie stood up once more, and left the train at the next stop.

But someone did.

– X –

13th July 2003 // 06:56am

“Oh, is that him?!” Mike asked loudly, pointing at the sandy-haired stranger who was standing on the opposite side of the carriage. A riptide of embarrassment crashed through Richie’s body.

“Don’t fucking point at him, Jesus Christ!”

– X –

13th July 2003 // 06:58am

“Don’t fucking point at him, Jesus Christ!”

Against his better judgement, a sapling of a smile sprouted on Eddie’s face, a smile that was watered and nurtured by the frenzied muttering of the stranger to his sniggering friend, a smile that bloomed openly, proudly, towards the sun.

– X –

25th July 2003 // 07:23am

A scrap of paper floats through the air like ash after an eruption, and lands neatly on Eddie’s lap. It’s the corner of an old newspaper, and Eddie can vaguely make out the words, ‘the senator has issued a statement staunchly denying the ….”. Other than that, the scrap is entirely, utterly, unremarkable. Eddie gripped the paper between his thumb and forefinger, and then, only then, did he notice the scribbled handwriting on the other side.

‘I read this when I was 15. Couldn’t sleep for a week, totally ruined my kid sisters birthday party when the clown arrived and I took off screaming”

A tiny, menacing looking clown peers up at Eddie from where it has been drawn hastily in the corner with a chicken-scrawl scratch.

At the bottom of the scrap, is a tiny, so tiny Eddie almost misses it, ‘R’.

– X –

27th August 2003 // 06:59am

Richie leaves notes on the lap of the man with the kind, tired eyes for exactly a month, and not once, never once, does he receive one in return. They range from commentary about the book the other man is reading, or about what Richie ate for dinner the night before, or once, after Richie had wracked his fatigued brain for the entire journey to little avail, a not-entirely-true ‘I saw a squirrel that reminded me of you yesterday.”

Richie chalks the lack of reciprocation up to the fact that the stranger’s journey extends beyond his. Every morning, Richie disembarks the train before the stranger, who continues on to some unknowable destination. Never once does the stranger get off before Richie.

Until he does.

An entirely unremarkable Tuesday morning skates straight into the most bizarre experience of Richie’s short life when, at a stop he couldn’t name, one the train sails straight through each morning without fanfare, the stranger with the green-gold eyes stands up. He stands up, and practically runs in Richie’s direction, and throws a very neatly folded piece of lined paper into Richie’s lap. Then, before the doors can entrap him once more, the stranger is gone.

Richie watches him dart away, up the slimy slick stairs of the nameless subway station.

I’m going to be late to work because of this. The only words on the piece of paper, I’m going to be late to work because of this. Richie checks it once, twice, thrice, but all that he finds are those ten words.

Ten words Richie treasures for the next ten years.

– X –

1st September 2003 // 06:26am

With his fringe caked to his forehead with sweat, Eddie trips down the stairs to the subway platform blindly, boarding the train on autopilot. Unusually for a Wednesday, Eddie has to push his way on past hordes of people that jostle and shove at each other as the train breaks into a sprint towards the next station, and then the next, and then the next, and then it’s his stop. He’ll be getting on soon.

A bead of sweat chases down between Eddie’s shoulder blades. He shivers. His hand is slick on the hand rail.

And then he’s on. They’re closer than they’ve ever been. They come together like drift wood, pushed closer and closer still by the indifferent tide of people. The stranger stumbles, and his hand shoots out, grabbing at the hand rail that Eddie clings to. Their fingers are but centimetres away from each other now, and it’s too close, too close for Eddie and his fragile heart to bare, but then he’s falling, closer and closer, and closer.

“Fucking watch it! Fucking idiot, I’m fucking standing here!” he yells, and the teenager who just sent him flying forwards into the chest of the stranger with the now bemused eyes flips him off.

“Fucking child! Asshole,” Eddie says, no longer talking to the teenager but instead airing his frustration at the ceiling that just stares dumbly back at him.

The stranger is laughing.

– X –

1st September 2003 // 06:54am

“Fucking watch it! Fucking idiot, I’m fucking standing here!”

Richie laughs. He can’t help it. The other man stares up at him, anger vanishing from his face, chased away by an embarrassment that lingers.

“Are you okay?” Richie asks, and it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it. The stranger eyes him cautiously.

“Yes, fine thanks,” is all he says, and Richie gulps it down, parched.

– X –

2nd September 2003 // 06:47am

A note lands in Richie’s lap.

Dinner?

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #reddie fic #reddie fanfiction #IT 2017 #IT 2019 #IT fandom #IT fanfiction #IT fanfic #3-4K words #fanfic

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writer-and-artist27 · 4 years

Text

A King’s Care

Summary: Arturia may not have been in Chaldea for as long as some of the other Servants, but she finally felt like she was getting used to the atmosphere. The number of Servants present in the building was enough to become accustomed to. And then it was her turn to help their petite Master to bed for some well-needed sleep.

-----------------------------

Note: Roughly inspired by the fatigue I usually feel after a long bike ride and the baseball scene from Ufotable’s adaptation of Unlimited Blade Works. My own Art-san has been with me in Chaldea for about four months now, but she feels as close to me as the Servants that have been with me since the very beginning of the game, so this is my way of honoring her, even if I’m still out of it as a result of exercise-induced exhaustion.

A distant sequel to Achilles and Marie and A Happy Homunculus, taking place in the same universe. Just beware of light spoilers for the Final Singularity, the beginnings of the Epic of Remnant, and a Servant’s presence in Cosmos in the Lostbelt.

The only theme I��ll recommend is this piano track from Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun, since it provided the right mood when I was writing this.

Dedicated to @withanina, since he’s been helping me with getting back my Fate muse.

-----------------------------

Even after the threat of Goetia had faded, none of the Servants felt like going back to the Throne of Heroes. After so long, Chaldea had become home, and even if their enemy had disappeared, the aftermath left in his wake was one they did not want to leave their only Master and Mash alone to handle. Once the Pseudo-Singularities had formed, it gave them more of an “excuse” to stay.

Arturia Pendragon was one of many who, in spite of not being at Chaldea as long as some of her comrades, decided to rise and fight.

Vy, even when crying at the loss of Dr. Roman and Mash, stood up to Goetia, commanding Achilles, Marie Antoinette, Astolfo, and so many Servants to defend Humanity. And now, with the last Demon God Pillars roaming free, she stubbornly took on the mantle of fighter yet again, even with the Mages Association breathing down everyone’s necks.

If anyone in Chaldea’s remaining staff and the Servants could all agree on something, it was that their single Master had a stubborn and caring streak almost a galaxy wide.

Inwardly, despite Excalibur at her side, Arturia knew that the fighting would end eventually. It was how things had always gone. But for now, with Dr. Roman absent, Mash monitoring the computers and other vital functions, and Da Vinci busy monitoring Chaldeas, she found herself informally inducted into a group that only the oldest residents of Chaldea seemed to be involved in.

Marie Antoinette had gently pushed at Arturia’s shoulder with a giggle on the day it happened (coincidentally taking Arturia’s attention away from the strange sight of her darker self chewing on yet another hamburger), beaming from ear to ear. “Welcome to Chaldea, Arturia-san~!” Marie had said brightly at the time, tilting her head at Arturia with that smile that could’ve fooled her into thinking she was looking at Irisviel. “Please keep an eye on Vy during the month of July, will you?”

“P-Pardon?”

“July!” Marie repeated, not even fazed at Arturia’s slow response, patting her shoulder through Arturia’s mantle. “Please remember that!”

It was only when the specified month had begun that Arturia understood why.

For some reason, whether it was out of good will or some other reasoning, every month had an assigned Servant that would go about convincing Vy to go to bed. It was not as if Vy was horrible at losing sleep, no. The problem came down to how she would consume one too many Golden Apples just to keep farming quests.

Poking some of the former front-liners had given Arturia a vague idea of what to expect. In the four months since she had been summoned, Dr. Roman had been Vy’s original caretaker, pushing her to the infirmary for daily check-ups and the like, but now with no one to fill that role, the oldest Servants present took it up. Because as much as Vy was kind in her intentions, the amount of times she stumbled back from the simulator and/or a Rayshift exhausted and barely able to form a word was concerning.

Diarmuid had sighed softly when Arturia had first questioned him, a sad look in his eye before he spoke up in a fonder voice. “Vy had been there for all of us, even when we were weak and unable to do much in the face of Goetia’s first appearance in London. Now, with a new threat and the lack of the good Doctor, we may as well do what we can for a girl that loves all of us.” He had shouldered his spears, looking elsewhere. “As fragile of a Master she is, she is still our Master.”

Considering who Diarmuid was and their shared past in the Fourth Fuyuki Holy Grail War, Arturia could not find it in herself to argue.

Hence, her current dilemma.

“Master? Master?”

Vy, for once, didn’t say much, letting out a little “Mmm?” noise from her place in-between her arms. To rest was one thing. To hide away in a little corner of one of the relaxation rooms, hiding her face away from view while resting her back against the white walls, away from any people or bedding, was another thing entirely. A pause followed Arturia’s observation, and then the head of long brown hair shifted in Arturia’s direction, albeit slightly. “What’s up, Arturia-san…?”

Arturia found herself frowning. Slurring. Vy never usually slurred her words, but here she was now, doing just that.

Lancer did say Vy reverted to simpler language when fatigued…

Arturia then coughed into her fist, kneeling to match Vy’s sitting height. “How many Golden Apples did you have this time, Master?”

Instead of a verbal response, Vy lifted one shaky hand from her knees to make an “O” shape with her thumb and pointer finger.

No apples. We were running low on those. Then… Arturia gently shrugged off her mantle, doing her best to not make any noise while adding in a softer voice, “Let me rephrase my question. How many quests did you do today, Milady?”

This time, Vy made a vague noise of protest, raising both hands with palms splayed open.

More than ten, Arturia thought. Instead of voicing that, she reached over to gently place her mantle against Vy’s knees. “Milady, you should get to bed.”

Vy didn’t look up from her arms, shaking her head like an otter. The gesture immediately rustled her usually neat brown hair, creating small tangles in the long straight strands. “Can’t,” was the little mumble. If Arturia didn’t know any better, her Master sounded more dead than alive. “I’ll see ‘hings again.”

“Nightmares?” Arturia prodded.

Vy still wasn’t looking up to meet Arturia’s eyes, a noise of some kind leaving her lap past the mantle. A possible affirmation, but— “Of everyone disappearing. Of,” this time, Arturia could hear a faint sniffle. “Of everyone going away like Dr. Roman and Mash.” The statement ended on a tiny, barely audible sob.

Oh. So this was why the other Servants did not include Mash in their little group. To know that Mash’s death at the Temple of Time had caused this much damage— “Master,” Arturia breathed.

Vy flinched once Arturia reached over with one hand, and Arturia considered.

“Master, the event has passed,” Arturia said softly, gently pressing her fingers against Vy’s shoulder. The gesture was enough to finally, finally get Vy to look up at her from her knees, her brown eyes red-rimmed and blotchy past the wet lenses of her glasses. “Those images that are haunting you are just dreams. You are safe. Mash is safe.”

“Wh-What about all of you?” Vy sniveled suddenly, and this time, Arturia found her throat drying up at the clear bitterness in Vy’s brown eyes. “What about the Servants? The staff, Chaldea, everyone? I-I’m trying, I’m trying…” More tears trickled past the corners of Vy’s glasses, her nose seizing up as Vy shut her eyes, looking away yet again. “Skadi-sama still needs Giant’s Rings too, a-and, and,” Arturia did her best not to flinch once Vy let out a single loud and tired sob. “Th-There’s Holmes and his skills needing to be leveled up, a-and D’eon-san needing more Embers, a-and the other Servants waiting on Ascensions—”

In any other situation, Vy would probably be the perfect Master.

How ironic to have the perfect, hardworking, respectable Master with a former perfect king.

Arturia took a page from Archer EMIYA’s advice books, reaching over to pull her petite Master into a warm hug before Vy could sniffle anymore. “Master…” Arturia did her best to keep her composure, even if her words felt inadequate, “Master, the Servants, myself included, all know how you are. We know that you are trying. We can wait.” She raised her other hand to rest on top of Vy’s head, stroking her hair. Vy was shivering against Arturia’s armor, hands weakly clutching at Arturia’s sleeves, but she was there. She was awake. “Please, let me take you to bed. You need to rest before you can help us.”

Vy still trembled. “Y-You won’t…” there’s another sniffle. “You won’t leave?”

Arturia held back the feeling of her heart breaking to tuck Vy into her blue mantle, ignoring the sensation of her crown falling off her head as she did. When had her Master ever sounded so much like a lonely child? “I will not.”

Another sniffle, this time mixed with a choked sob. “P-Promise?”

Arturia did not know if the gesture was futile or not, more so when the previously mentioned Scathach-Skadi had given their Master one look before going silent on these “Lostbelts” of Skadi’s origin, but Arturia still nodded, wrapping Vy up tighter in the mantle. “I promise. Now to bed with you.”

Another “Mm,” noise, punctuated by a hiccup.

Inwardly, Arturia sighed. Chaldea had a lot of work to do, but for now, Arturia would content herself with carrying their only Master back. It was a small victory in this new day of discoveries.

#fate stay night #fate grand order #writing #short story #vy plays fate grand order #arturia pendragon #marie antoinette #diarmuid ua duibhne

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ao719 · 4 years

Note

Liam walking in on his daughter getting to 2 base on her date. Jessie's New year resolution let writers she totally girl crushes on know she appreciates them with crazy request! Can be angsty, fluffy, or wacky!

Ok @jessiembruno 🤣😂 I saw this and got excited and my first thought was Liam and Ava lol. Poor Liam.

Set in my Road Less Traveled AU

***********

Noelle slipped on her coat, untucking her hair from inside it before she turned to see Liam standing there with his hands clasped behind his back. She gave him a curious look before leaning up and softly kissing him. “I’ll be back later.”

“Ok. Have fun at dinner with Michelle,” he smiled as he guided her to the door.

She turned as they reached the door, arching her brow. “Why do I feel like you’re in a hurry to get me out of here?”

“What? Of course not. I just...don’t want you to be late for your dinner...”

“Mmhmm,” she gave him that look. She reached for the doorknob, but then stopped and turned back to him. “You better leave them be, Liam,” she spoke in a warning tone as she pointed her finger at him.

He gave her a look, feigning innocence. “Of course, love. Have fun.” He leaned down and gave her one last kiss before she walked out of the royal quarters.

Liam waited a few minutes until he knew she was gone before turning. “Joshua! Lucas!” He called down the hall before he turned into the living area.

The twins entered the room a moment later, giving their father a curious look as he stood there. “Have you come up with something?”

The twins both smiled and nodded. “Jet skis...” Lucas stated.

Liam let out a breath. “Seriously?”

“Yup,” they replied in unison.

Liam’s jaw tensed as he stared at his twin sons. “Fine,” he growled in defeat. Lucas held his hand out and Joshua slapped it five before they gave their father a determined nod and exited their quarters.

The twins walked the corridor down towards the theater room, assuming that’s where they were, talking about their plans with the jet skis on the way. When they made it into the wing where the door was, they stopped talking as they crept up to the door which was slightly ajar. They could hear the movie playing and both peeked inside, the room pitch back save for the light that was coming from the large screen. They couldn’t see their sister on the large sectional sofa, only her blonde hair draped over the arm of it. They snuck inside undetected and silently moved along the wall to see better. Suddenly they saw Demetri come into view from the angle they were now at, hovering over Ava as she laid back on the couch, the pair entrapped in an all consuming kiss.

The twins eyes widened as they snapped their gaze over to one another before going back to the pair on the sofa. Joshua nudged Lucas’s arm motioning for him to go towards the door, the two sneaking back out of the room a moment later and hurrying out of the wing. “I’m not telling him,” Joshua stated flatly.

“Well, I’m certainly not telling him,” Lucas replied.

Joshua looked over and they locked eyes. Neither one wanted to tell their father what they had just seen, knowing he was going to blow a gasket. “Well, one of us has to! He’s going to ask!”

Lucas stopped walking and grabbed Joshua’s arm. “Rock, paper, scissors, best two out of three...loser tells dad...”

********

Joshua and Lucas walked back into the royal quarters a short time later, Liam sitting in the living area waiting for them. When they entered the room, Liam glanced up at hearing their feet shuffle, seeing both of them with blank expressions. “Well?” Liam asked. Lucas shoved Joshua forward, having lost the rock, paper, scissors game.

“Uh...they were...watching...a movie...” Joshua rubbed the back of his neck and Liam slowly leaned forward, knowing he wasn’t telling him something.

“Watching a movie?” His brow arched.

“Um, uh-huh...” he nodded. He swallowed nervously meeting his father's suspicious gaze.

Liam rose from his chair and walked over standing in front of Joshua, taking in his demeanor before he looked at Lucas and did the same. He knew something was off. He brushed by both of them and hastily walked out of the door headed for the theater room. “Let’s go see what Papa Bas is doing. I don’t even want to be near here when he gets back...” Lucas stated and Joshua quickly agreed, both rushing out the door.

****

Liam quickly walked the corridors towards theater room, knowing something wasn’t right based on the twins demeanor. He had no idea what he was about to walk into, his heart racing and he could already feel the anger rising up in him. As he approached the wing for the room, he slowed his pace and walked to the ajar door. He heard the movie playing and pushed the door open, casually walking in. His jaw clenched at what he saw.

There was his eighteen year old daughter entrapped in a kiss with Rashad’s son, Demetri. When he looked a little closer, the light from the large screen bringing them more into view, his eyes widened, seeing Demetri’s hands roaming over her beneath her shirt. He could feel his face turning hot and red, his hands balling into fists.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY DAUGHTER!” Liam’s loud voice boomed over the movie, reverberating in the theater room as he turned on the lights.

Startled, Demetri flew up, falling off the sofa and landing on the floor with a thud. Ava shot straight up and whipped her head back, her eyes going wide to see her angry father glaring, his nostrils flaring and hands balled into fists at his side. “Da-Daddy...” she gasped.

Ava turned and looked down at Demetri on the floor who was wearing a horrified expression as he slowly rose to his feet. “Your...Your Maj-Majesty...” his voice squeaked.

Ava turned back and looked at Liam again. “Daddy, what are you doing down here?”

Liam kept his eyes glued on Demetri. “You’re dead! I’m sending you back to Domvallier to your father in a body bag!”

Ava yelped as Liam came running towards Demetri who dodged out of his way at the last second, causing the King to stumble. Demetri stood at the ready, his knees slightly bent and arms up as he watched the King’s every move. Suddenly Demetri went to move left, but Liam quickly followed him. He then juked to the right, but Liam followed again.

A moment later Demetri jumped over Ava as he went over the back of the sofa holding his hands up defensively. “I...I’m soooo sorry, sir. Please...” he pleaded.

“You’re sorry?” Liam shouted. “You didn’t look very sorry a minute ago when you were feeling up my daughter! I am your King! I will have your hands cut off! Both of them!”

“Daddy, stop it!” Ava yelled. Liam finally looked at her as she stood from the sofa, her arms crossed wearing an angry expression. “You can’t just barge in here like this! I’m eighteen! I’m an adult!”

“You are eighteen! You are nowhere near an adult! You are grounded! GROUNDED! For the rest of your life!” He turned his attention back to Demetri. "AND YOU! You are banished from Cordonia! Forever!”

Demetri’s eyes went even wider as Ava’s mouth fell open. Just then they all turned their attention at hearing the sound of someone’s throat clearing. There stood Noelle, arching her brow at the trio. “Demetri...I think it would be best if you headed home, sweetie,” her voice was stoically calm.

Liam laughed maniacally. “The only place that pervert is going is straight to the dungeon! Chained to the damn wall!”

Noelle burst into laughter at Liam’s words before cupping her hand over her mouth to compose herself. “Demetri...you may go.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am...” his voice shook. He looked at Ava with a questioning expression, his eyes flitting over to Liam before he quickly moved and kissed her cheek. Liam lunged with a growl before Demetri moved out of the way and ran out of the room.

“Why did you let him leave?” Liam shouted at Noelle. “Everything was under control! And what are you doing back already?”

Noelle arched her brow as she folded her arms, the sudden shift in her stance causing Liam to stand straight up. “I’m back after I received a call from Lucas. He wanted to know when the announcement would be made that he was now the heir to throne after you killed the current one.” Liam narrowed his eyes as Ava widened hers. “And under control? You banned him from Cordonia and threatened to chain him to a wall. Yes, that sounds like it was under control, my king.”

“It was under control! I could have taken care of him and the body before you even got back from dinner!” He turned his attention towards the cracked door where he had noticed the two sets of eyes from the twins eavesdropping. “Lucas will be sad to know that the next heir will be Joshua because Ava is getting locked in a tower and Lucas is officially disowned for treason!” He shouted. The eyes disappeared, footsteps being heard as the twins ran from the door.

“You’re not locking anyone in a tower or a dungeon, Liam. Not today anyway. And you’re not disowning our child for treason for calling to tell me their father was acting like a mad man.”

“Mad man? Me a mad man? Maybe you’re the mad woman since you don’t seem to mind some random kid defiling our little girl!”

Before Noelle could respond, Ava looked at Liam. “He was not defiling me! Really? We were kissing! And I’m NOT a little girl!”

“Ava, you will always be my little girl, whether you like it or not! I might have...overreacted a little bit, but boys have bad intentions! So dating is off the table! I forbid you to see him anymore!”

“You can’t do that!” Ava shouted.

“Guess what? I just did! By royal decree, the Crown Princess shall never date again...ever!”

“Ava, go to the apartment and wait in your room,” Noelle told her, her voice still completely calm. Ava huffed before storming out of the room. Noelle turned to Liam as she took a step towards him, but before she could say anything Bastien entered the room, a glass of scotch and his phone in his hand.

Liam looked at him confused as he handed him the scotch. “Rashad is on the phone,” he smirked as he handed it to him.

Liam took a long sip of the scotch. “What do you want Duke Domvallier?” He spat.

“Liam, don’t do the whole formality thing because you’re upset...look, Demetri just called me...he’s in a panic.”

“I shall be formal with whomever I please. Especially those that are not loyal to the crown...or friends of mine.”

Rashad bit back a laugh at his long time friend. “You don’t mean that, Liam. While I plan to speak with Demetri about what happened, and yes, he told me, I think you’re overreacting a bit. I was just calling to let you know that I plan to have a talk with him. And he will be coming to you and Noelle with a formal apology once he stops shitting his pants,” he laughed.

“Good! I hope he wet himself too! Your son is on thin ice! If he is ever to come back to the palace again, and that’s a big IF, he shall be handcuffed at all times!”

Rashad chuckled. “I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow.”

Liam hung up the phone tossing back the rest of the scotch before mumbling under his breath. Noelle arched her brow looking at him. “Are you calm now? Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Why don't you ask your spy? That little traitor!” Noelle tucked her lips between her teeth. “He was kissing her! And his hands were all over her, Noelle!”

She she stepped up to Liam, cupping his face in her hands. “You need to relax. And you need to go talk with your daughter.”

He clenched his jaw before letting out a breath. “Ok...” his shoulders slumped. “You're right. I don't know why her dating makes me crazy, but it does. Demetri is probably...one of the best guys for her to date...but I can't help but hate him because of it! And I really, really hate him right now.”

****

Liam and Noelle walked back to their apartment and inside. The twins were standing there looking at them as they entered the room, Liam giving Lucas a glare. Noelle gave Liam a knowing look before she went to change and he turned his attention to the boys. “No jet skis!” He stated before turning and walking down towards Ava’s room. He closed his eyes before he raised his knuckles to the door and knocked.

“Who is it?” Her voice carried from the other side.

“It’s me, Princess. Can I please come in?” Liam’s voice was suddenly soft, a far cry from not too long ago.

“Fine...”

Liam opened the door to see Ava sitting on her bed. She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of anger and remorse. Liam walked in and over to the bed, sitting on the edge looking at her. “Ava, I’m sorry for the way I acted. In my eyes, you’ll always be my little girl...” Ava narrowed her eyes at him. “I know! I know you’re eighteen now, but I’m struggling...to let go...a little. You’re my oldest and my only girl so I’m a little overprotective. So when I walked in and saw his...” Liam closed his eyes for a moment, “his hands...all over you, I snapped. Just a little bit. I still don't think my reaction was that bad...”

“Not that bad? You banned him from Cordonia and threatened to throw him in the dungeons! And, if you weren’t having people spy on me...you wouldn’t have walked in to see anything,” she retorted.

“Well...my palace my rules...actually, my country, my laws. Nothing happens here without me knowing or without my approval. Absolutely no funny business under my roof...or on my lands...and that includes Domvallier!”

“Daddy...” she rolled her eyes, but while Liam was semi joking, she knew that he was somewhat serious as well. He then gave her that questioning look as they stared at one another, as if he wanted to ask something, but absolutely did not want to know the answer at the same time. “Just so you know...nothings ever happened...with him or anyone else...”

Liam closed his eyes and sighed with relief. Thank you, God. He opened his eyes back up look at her. “Look I won’t pretend to be naive. I know eventually...it will...you’ll have...christ, I can’t say it!” He wiped the sweat forming on his brow as Ava looked at him quirking her brow. “All I ask is that you be careful...and use...use...you need to have...NOELLE! Come in here, please!”

“Dad! I know!” Her cheeks blushed. “I’m not dumb...I learned all of this already...and I sat down and had a long talk with mom about it a long time ago...”

Liam furrowed his brows. “You did?”

“Yes...” she gave him a look. “But you need to stop treating me like I’m a little girl. I’m not. You need to stop asking people to follow me when I’m out with Demetri and respect my privacy. You need to let me figure things out on my own...”

Liam took a breath as he looked at her and nodded. “I know. I promise...I’ll do better.” She gave him a small smile. “I love you, Ava. And I just...want to protect you.”

“I love you too, daddy.” She pulled him into a hug. He didn’t like that she was growing up, hating everything about it, but he knew he needed to. She drew back looking at him after a moment. “And you need to apologize to Demetri.”

Liam let out a wry laugh as he stood from the bed. “Let’s not push it.”

**********************

Using my RLT/Perma Tags: @bobasheebaby @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @cocomaxley @gardeningourmet @blackcoffee85 @gibbles82 @annekebbphotography @sweetest-marbear @wannabemc2 @indiacater @liamxs-world @smalltalk88 @damienswhore @classylady1234 @kazdog75-blog @lodberg @umccall71 @explorer-of-gems @sstee1 @texaskitten30 @elbenmond @thequeenofcronuts @romanticatheart-posts @jared2612 @custaroonie @drakesensworld @perfectprofessorherokid @lynne1993 @whenyourheartskipsabeat @innerpostmentality @iplaydrake @coldcollectornight08 @zilch3 @mfackenthal @araihc-ce @timmagicktoad @dcbbw @crookedslimecreatorpasta @captain-kingliamsqueen @blznbaby @tu-es-lamour-de-ma-vie @rhymesmenagerie @eileendannie @be-still-my-aching-heart @lauradowning29 @the-soot-sprite @kuladekiwi @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @emceesynonymroll @emichelle @loveellamae @badchoicesposts @seriouslybadchoices @janezillow @choices-lurker @eileendannie @flyawayboo @caroldxnvxrs @isporticus1234 @queenjilian @mskaneko @bascmve01 @kacie-0156

#asks #trr #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr liam #choices liam #king liam rhys #trr king liam #choices king liam

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pinnithin-writes · 3 years

Text

Good Jokes

Chapter 10

Tommy wandered Black Mesa for what felt like days.

It couldn’t have been days; his hands were still sticky with rust and he hadn’t gone far from where -

Where that happened.

He didn’t feel like he even had permission to mourn. Tommy barely knew Gordon - had known him for maybe 72 hours max - but he had grown so important so rapidly that his absence punched a hole straight through Tommy’s torso. He couldn’t shake the sense of loss, how bitterly unfair it all was.

To have someone be such an almost. An almost friend. An almost lover. Never having gotten close enough to be allowed to miss him.

This was not to mention the overwhelming sense of guilt that had crawled inside his lungs. If he had been quicker, if his judgment were sharper, he could have prevented this. If he had been strong enough to break free of whatever bound him. If he had paid greater mind to his father’s warning.

Tommy drifted, heavy with regret as he glided through the halls like a spectre. Shackled down by should-haves. What did he do now? What was there left to do, when the world was fucked and the only person who gave a shit about it was dead?

The room he wound up in was cavernous, ringed with a toxic neon glow. Appropriate mood lighting, he thought wryly to himself as he stood in the shadow of a massive cistern. It was strange, standing there, saturated by radioactive waste, almost-grieving an almost-lover. Would have been nice if not for the cockroaches.

Would have been nice if Benrey wasn’t there, too.

Tommy felt his presence as soon as he appeared, unpeeling from thin air and hanging his elbows over the edge of the cistern. Looking all the world like a kid at a pool party. Tommy watched him materialize and felt something dark settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey,” Benrey drawled nonchalantly.

Tommy didn’t have the patience for pleasantries. He was going to set this guy on fire. As he raised his hand toward him, the entity blurted the only thing that could have possibly saved him.

“Dude, he’s alive.” His voice was pained, as if he were already feeling the blood boiling in his own veins. “Chill.”

He released his hold on the atoms that made up the entity’s body as hope lodged a painful lump in his throat. Benrey sagged with relief while Tommy took a thoughtful step back, eyeing him warily. His hand was still lifted in a threat.

“Where is he?” he demanded coldly.

Benrey threw his careless exterior back on once he was sure he wasn’t about to be immolated on the spot. He gave a narrow shrug. “I don’t fuckin’ know. On the move somewhere. Last I checked he wasn’t in the garbage anymore.”

The garbage. They had tossed him in the garbage. Tommy wanted to kill this guy all over again. He clamped down on that impulse, instead uttering a single, perfunctory syllable.

“Why?”

“Probably because he didn’t wanna be in the garbage anymore.”

“Why,” Tommy tried again, barely containing his anger, “did you do that to him?”

Benrey began picking at his cuticles lazily, rolling his eyes so he wouldn’t have to meet Tommy’s gaze. “I dunno. He was getting boring.”

“I don’t believe you.”

When Benrey showed him his teeth, it was more of a snarl than a smile. “Your problem, bro.”

Tommy was about to grill the entity, in both the physical and metaphorical sense, when a scuffling sound echoed from a pipe on the opposite wall. He turned, tempted to dismiss it as another alien, but a heavy thud followed, and a very human groan came shortly after. Benrey’s mouth turned into a knife as he leered at Tommy.

“Huh. Maybe he’s not so boring after all.”

Tommy turned back to face him, his stare hard and dangerous. “I’m going to kill you and then I’m going to kill you again.”

“Hurts, man,” Benrey said, but he was delighted. “Just like old times.” He dangled his arms over the edge of the cistern, grinning cheekily. “I missed this.”

The noise from the pipe was growing louder. The person inside - and he had a pretty fucking good guess who - was clearly in a lot of pain. Tommy’s heart squeezed just hearing it.

“Get out,” he told Benrey.

The entity smiled his shark’s teeth smile. “Make me.”

Tommy did. Clapped his hands together and slammed Benrey into the same pocket dimension he’d trapped that shithead soldier in only a day ago. His patience was nonexistent, his self control barely hanging on. Go have a time out in the void. It was a kinder punishment than the entity deserved.

He stood there, watching the space where Benrey had disappeared from, for several long seconds. Then he turned and strode across the room to watch the dead come back to life.

The relief that surged through Tommy upon seeing Gordon Freeman crawl out of that drain was so sudden and powerful it knocked the breath out of him. He was alive. He was alive. God, he was alive. Tommy could only stare, gaze catching mournfully when he noticed he was short a hand.

“Hey!” Gordon shouted hoarsely. He sounded terrible, like he had been dragged for three miles from the back of a moving van. Looked as much, too - he was covered in a horrible smear of his own blood and whatever sludge had been at the bottom of the trash compactor. A crack spiderwebbed across his glasses. Tommy felt awful, seeing him like that.

Gordon was still calling his name like it was the only word he knew. “He - Tom - Tommy! Tommy, up here! It’s me! Tommy.”

Tommy smiled sadly up at him. “Hello, Mr. Freeman.”

“Are you - are you here to fuckin’ kill me?” he demanded, and the fear in his words broke Tommy’s heart. “Did they tell you to finish me off? Please, please tell me-”

“No,” he interrupted him before Gordon’s voice could get any more distraught. “They tricked me.”

“What? Oh... god.” Gordon slid unceremoniously out of the pipe and onto the floor. Tommy took a step forward retroactively, but paused when he caught the nervous look Gordon threw at him. He didn’t know if he could trust Tommy. Hell, he didn’t know if he could trust anybody .

Keeping his distance took a great deal of effort, but Tommy managed.

Gordon groaned. “Oh, my fucking arm.” He staggered to his feet, clutching the stump where his hand used to be. He returned his gaze to Tommy’s face, studying him warily. “Hey buddy,” he ventured. “What are they-what did they do to you?”

What did they do to me? Tommy wanted to ask. What did they do to you, you half-dead, waterlogged, survivor of a man? He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, joking to calm his nerves.

“Um, they gave me a Beyblade.”

Gordon paused, ignoring the jest as he puzzled over Tommy’s situation. “In exchange for - for going with them? Why are you - th - did they leave you behind?”

“Yeah,” Tommy answered. He turned his eyes back to Gordon, utterly loathing himself. “I ran away.”

Gordon, however, relaxed visibly at this. “Oh my god,” he sighed, and then he didn’t approach so much as he pitched forward, unsteady on his feet as he was from blood loss. Tommy caught him, pulling him in close. The armor of his suit dug into his chest but he hardly cared, arms clasped tightly around Gordon as if he would slip through his fingers if he let go.

The other man sagged against him, barely able to stand. “Thank you, man,” he breathed. “Honestly.”

Tommy supported him, tucking his chin into the crook of his shoulder. He smelled like sweat and weeks of garbage and the awful tang of alien guts. Ironic that the first time he got to hold him like this was in a pit of toxic waste. Tommy would find it funny if Gordon wasn’t rapidly losing blood.

He smirked into his neck, drawing out the bit despite everything. “They took the Beyblade back though, Mr. Freeman.”

Gordon exhaled through his nose in a weak, silent laugh. “Oh,” he said. “Would you go back if they gave you another Beyblade?”

Tommy took a step back, steadying Gordon with both hands on his shoulders, checking him for further injury. Other than the gaping fucking hole where his hand used to be, he was purpled with welts from the beating he took. There was no telling what kind of head trauma he had - the man could barely stand upright on his own. But he was alive, alive, alive, and that was better than Tommy had allowed himself to hope for.

He was going to shred Benrey for this. Him and Bubby both. If they wanted to play god, he’d step up to the plate and take a swing. Hot, angry tears suddenly sprang to his eyes, and he pulled back, blinking them rapidly away.

“I know, that’s hard to think about,” Gordon broke in gently. “That’s a good - that’s a good deal.”

He was still playing off his stupid Beyblade joke. Tommy gave him a watery smile and swiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands, wondering what had compelled the universe to gift him with this wonderful man twice over. He glanced back at Gordon’s ruined arm, making another lame attempt at levity.

“Oh my god,” he said sarcastically. “You don’t have a hand.”

Gordon chuckled mirthlessly as he examined his own wound. “I know. I know.” He sucked in a painful breath. “Oh, god.”

“How are you going to… write?”

“That’s the least of my concerns,” he answered, suddenly serious. “I’d like to live. And get out of here.” He cast a curious look around the room. “Where the hell are we? Are we back in the nuclear reactor?”

Tommy was still fixated on the hand thing. Maybe he could pull some strings with time and space. Call in a few favors. It would be tricky, but he felt somewhat responsible for the wound’s existence at all. The least he could do was find a way to reverse it.

“We can get you a new hand, but not in this room,” he said thoughtfully.

That caught Gordon’s attention. “A prosthetic?”

“This room has too many creatures in it,” Tommy went on, wrinkling his nose in particular at the cockroaches. “It doesn’t look sanitary.”

“Do you have any medical experience?”

“No,” Tommy answered honestly. His complicated relationship with mortality made first aid knowledge a low priority. He briefly thought back to what he’d read online. Was this a tourniquet situation? Was he bleeding enough to need one of those?

Gordon cast around for even a miniscule sense of relief. “D’you have any pills?” he asked. “You have like maybe an ibuprofen or an Advil?” He tried to laugh, but it came out more like a thin sob. “It hurts, man. It hurts a lot.”

Guilt closed around Tommy’s throat. All this power at his fingertips and he couldn’t ease Gordon’s pain even a little.

“I only have soda,” he admitted, too drained to make it humorous. “We should get going.”

Moving to support the man’s unsteady weight, Tommy reached for his elbow. If he could get him through the facility quickly enough, he’d make it. Gordon Freeman wouldn't die here. Tommy wouldn’t let him.

“Yeah, probably not gonna be in herewait wait wait, don’t go anywhere.” Gordon yanked away from Tommy, wincing as he did so, and fixed him with a critical look. “I need - we need to talk a little bit more.”

Tommy tried to meet his eyes, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the bleeding end of his arm as it slowly dripped scarlet onto the floor. The longer they stood here talking the less time he had to live. He waited wordlessly.

“So - enough - okay, I’m gonna trust - I’m gonna trust that you... are go - I trust-” Gordon shook his head, starting over. “Can I trust you, Tommy?”

He lifted his gaze and gave Gordon a heavy stare. “Yes.” It was not even a question. He had chosen Gordon. He wasn’t about to lose him again.

“Are we good together?”

God, Tommy hoped so.

---

He guided Gordon through the obstacle course from hell, answering his constant slew of questions as best as he could without breaking his brain. Tommy wanted to shush him - the more he spoke the quicker he would bleed out - but he suspected that the constant talking grounded him somewhat, so he spoke to him gently in reply.

Gordon’s thoughts had turned the tap on and his mouth was a faucet of words. He was steadily losing hope; it leaked out of him like the blood from his stump, his sanity going with it.

Tommy needed to keep him alert and engaged. He murmured into his ear as he carried him through Black Mesa, reassurances and stories and the shittiest jokes he could think of. I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe. Stay with me.

“Look,” he told him as they leapt unsteadily over a pathway of stones. “That rock you’re standing on looks like Tibet.”

It was a delayed response, but he saw Gordon’s shoulders shake as he snickered. “Showing off your geography skills even in the worst of times, huh?”

Good. They were still good. Tommy turned, continuing to lead.

They kept moving.

Emerging on the other side of a network of pipes, they were met with a room clustered with vats of waste, each one slowly pressed by a hydraulic plate. Tommy, struck once again by the utter ridiculousness that made up this backwards facility, snorted with derision. Beside him, however, Gordon staggered, looking crestfallen.

“It’s okay, Mr. Freeman,” Tommy muttered as he studied the presses. “I think you’ll be fine - this room is OSHA approved.”

Gordon managed to scrape together a response. “To code? To code, like you said?”

Tommy turned his attention to the man beside him. He was weary and haggard, too exhausted to smile, but humor glittered behind the lenses of his glasses as he stared back at him. The fondness flowering in Tommy’s ribs threatened to suffocate him.

He was going to get Gordon out of this nightmare and then he was going to date the hell out of him. Maybe even marry him. Become a second father to his stock photo son. Apocalypse be damned.

They kept moving.

Their path led them through darkened hallways and more vats of sludge. Where was all this shit coming from? Gordon had slipped into the substance a few times already, and was rapidly growing delirious, his words stringing out incoherently. Tommy was just beginning to wonder what it would take to physically remove the toxins from his veins without removing all of his blood in the process when Gordon caught him with another question.

“Did you hear anything else?” he asked, referring to the event that rendered him handless.

Tommy crouched thoughtfully in the dark as he gripped his rifle. “Screams after that,” he said. Even remembering the sound sent a chill through him. “But… I think that I - I also screamed.”

He could just barely see Gordon’s face in the glow of the flashlight beam reflecting off the tunnel walls. A worried little crease had formed between his eyebrows, and Tommy resisted the urge to reach out and smooth it over with his thumb. Gordon didn’t need to waste his energy on concern over him. They had a bigger, more blood-related problem right now.

Gordon didn’t ask him anything after that, so Tommy didn’t answer.

They kept moving.

Tommy would be happy if he never had to swim again. The pressing sheet metal walls and the smell of raw sewage had kind of ruined the experience for him. He hauled Gordon through the water, coercing a current to propel them along.

Gordon chuckled softly as he allowed himself to be carried. “You ever tried to swim with one arm?” he asked.

Tommy rolled his eyes and rewarded him with a smirk.

“It ain’t easy.”

He appreciated the levity, and the fact that Gordon could tell how uncomfortable Tommy was - enough, at least, to crack a joke on his behalf. It was beginning to get to him: the scent of blood and shit and the slimy water sloughing around him and the dead weight of Gordon on his arm and the harsh industrial lighting searing his eyes and -- Tommy wanted to hit pause and catch his breath, it was all so much. But he had to get Gordon out of here first. He had to make sure he was safe.

Tommy pressed on, pulling the man under a submerged barricade and breaking through on the other side. Stopping to rest was not an option. He had anticipated that this would be a hard journey and had steeled himself accordingly.

He did not, however, anticipate the clones.

Chapter 9 <-----> Chapter 11

#ink #fanfiction #good jokes #part of my endeavor to relocate all my ao3 work #blood #amputation #hlvrai

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fangirl-imagines · 4 years

Text

You’re The Best Christmas Gift I Ever Got//A Reddie Christmas Fic

A/N: Written for @star-gore for the IT 2019 Secret Santa hosted by @itfandomprompts. They requested fluffy and funny Reddie, Stenbrough, or Benverly so I thought why not give them a little bit of all three? I worked really hard on this so I hope you enjoy it and have a very Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Richie Tozier hates the mall at Christmas. He could think of about a million other ways he’d rather spend one of the few days of his winter break home from college than getting dragged around the mall for hours. But when Beverly needs help looking for Ben’s gift, Richie sees something that makes facing the crowds worth wild.

Word Count: 2,445

Genre: Fluff

Richie Tozier wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this, but he knew he better be on the nice list for it. Wandering around the overcrowded Derry mall, almost getting knocked down by frantic shoppers the week before Christmas, carrying an arm load of bags as he followed Beverly around. He groaned loudly as his fiery haired best friends continued to sort through shelves of books. She rolled her eyes but pointedly ignored him.

“Come on Bev! You know Ben is so obsessed with you that it doesn’t matter what you get him!” He leaned against the book shelf next to her. “You could literally give him the most generic gift of all time and he’d still love it and talk about it for months until we all get sick of him.”

“Richie,” She stopped and looked up at him. “This is me and Ben’s first Christmas together. I want it to be perfect.”

Richie sighed, feeling an uncomfortable wash of guilt. He knew how crazy about each other Beverly and Ben were and how much they had gone through to be together and he was happy for them. Especially after everything Beverly had gone through last year with that jerk Tom she’d been dating. Richie wasn’t sure he’d ever hated anyone as much as he hated Tom fucking Rogan. He wished he could say it was him and not Ben who knocked that smug smirk off his horse face. He’d tried though and got the black eye and chipped tooth to prove it. Beverly had cried and told him he was an idiot but it was worth it to him. Richie knew he was being kind of a jerk, he really was happy Ben and Bev had each other, he just wasn’t sure how much more shopping he could handle. Sensing this, Beverly sighed, stopping her searching to turn and face him.

“Okay, I shouldn’t be much longer. Why don’t you go harass Mike at the Santa booth and I’ll come meet you when I’m done?”

“Okay, fine but you’re buying me a pretzel.” Richie agreed with a mock salute, turning on his heels and leaving a laughing Beverly behind him. A curly head of hair behind the register caught his eye though.

“Hey, Stan the man! Am I going to see you at Bill’s party tonight?”

Stan looked up from the puzzle that was currently keeping him occupied at the front desk. It was 1000 tiny pieces that from what Richie could see was supposed to eventually coming together to form a mural of robins. Right now it was only edge pieces and a few tell tail signs of red that Stan looked up from to give Richie a tight mouthed bitch face. “You mean my boyfriends party? The one he’s throwing me for Hanukkah. No of course not.”

Richie laughed and rolled his eyes. “Well who’s going to blow out the candles then?”

Stan’s face did not shift, “It’s an electric menorah, trashmouth.”

Richie shrugged. He reached over the counter and picked up a piece of the puzzle, putting it in place before heading out the door with a call over his shoulder of “See you tonight.”

Outside the quiet of the bookstore the Derry Town Mall was bustling with the week before Christmas holiday crowds. People pushed by each other, speeding from store to store as ‘Here Comes Santa Clause’ played through the overhead speakers. The enticing smell of food court burgers and pizza hung in the air, making Richie’s stomach rumble as he got closer to Santa’s Village right outside the food court. The mall had gone all out this year with the village and the effort showed as soon as you walked up to it. But of course you could, Ben and Bill had built it after all. As soon as they had heard that the money raised through pictures with Santa would be going to help buy gifts for the local homeless shelter they had both been on board and between Ben’s building skills and Bill’s art skills, even Richie had to admit that it looked great.

The small house in the middle of the mall looked almost like a gingerbread house with its tan, glittery walls decorated with hooked candy canes painted along the walls and mountains of fluffy, fake snow covering the roof and lining the floor leading up to the house. The front of the house had a large open space though where you could see inside, but instead of an evil witch waiting inside it was Mike Hanlon, the actual nicest person in Derry. Mike sat on a large, red velvet lined chair in full red suit and white beard. He even had a pillow under his jacket to give him the bowl full of jelly look. In single file kids were ushered into the gingerbread house where they could meet Santa while Bill stood outside snapping pictures for their parents. Richie couldn’t understand why anyone would voluntarily used their painfully, criminally short winter break to go to the mall every day wearing a costume to deal with screaming, bratty kids all day but something that nice just fit Mike. He made a great Santa Clause too. He had a bright friendly smile under that white beard, and he’d spent most of November practicing his perfect “Ho-Ho-Ho!” Until Stan had begged and threatened to get him to shut up.

Richie laughed to himself, walking right up to the village and bypassing the line of kids going all the way back towards the bookstore, heading straight for Bill standing by the camera, snapping pictures. He tapped him on the shoulder, stealing a candy cane out of the bucket beside him when Bill turned his head. He opened the wrapper and popped it in his mouth with a smirk as Bill turned back to look at him. Bill’s eyes widened, flashing from the Santa house back to him.

“How’s it going Big Bill? I still can’t believe you volunteered for this.”

Bill’s eyes stayed wide, flickering back and forth between Richie and the gingerbread house then back to Richie. He swallowed thickly. “Richie?! Ne-,nei-neither can I.” He quickly turned back to the camera, snapping more pictures of the next kid sitting on Mike’s knee in the gingerbread house. “I th-,th-,thought that you ha-, hated the m-,m-,mall?”

“Well I do but Bev wanted help finding Ben’s gift so here I am. Never let it be said Richie Tozier isn’t a good friend.” He said, barley bothering to take the candy cane out of his mouth.

“W-,well w-w-,why don’t you g-,go hel-,help her?” He rushed, “we’re kind of bu-,busy h-,h-,here anyways.” Bill laughed uneasily, clearing his throat.

Richie’s brows furrowed thickly under his chunky black frames. He narrowed his eyes at Bill, “Are you trying to get rid of me Big Bill? Are you worried that Beverly is going to steal away your man? Because judging from the bird puzzle he has doing when I left I’m 100% positive she’s not interested.”

Bill cracked a smile at the thought of Stan putting together a bird puzzle at work but his face quickly shifted back into one of worry as he looked again back and forth between the house where kids were still filling through, telling Santa what they want for Christmas. “N-,No I just think it’s ru-,rude to leave Bev a-,a-,alone?”

Richie opened his mouth before his eye caught something that knocked him speechless.

“Okay, kid but seriously cover your mouth. It’s flu season and Santa can not afford to get sick. He’s a very important man and he cannot, I repeat, Santa cannot get sick!” A familiar voice fussed at the kids in line.

Richie’s jaw dropped, his candy cane falling to the floor but he ignored Bill’s small groan at the sticky candy hitting the floor. Eddie stepped out of the gingerbread house to face the line of waiting kids and make sure they were in a straight line. Richie blinked, almost expecting him to disappear when he opened his eyes back up but he was still there and very hard to miss in his costume. In red and white, candy cane stripped socks went up to his knees over his too tight red skinny jeans that Richie would take the time to focus on later. On top he wore a festive green jacket over a red shirt peaking out from underneath and a green, pointed hat with big, fake pointed ears on the sides.

“What the ho-ho-hell?” Richie stumbled, still staring wide eyed at his boyfriend. A huge, mischievous grin breaking out on his face. It was like Christmas had come early. He looked over at Bill with that same expression that made Bill sigh softly.

‘Sorry Eddie’ he apologized silently. “Ju-,just g-,go easy on him al-,alr-,alright Rich?” Bill shook his head, turning back to the camera and clicking away more pictures.

Richie nodded but said nothing. The ear-splitting grin still on his face as he brushed by Bill and almost knocked a few kids down getting to Eddie. “Eddie spaghetti! Does your mother know you’re out here wearing jeans like that?”

Eddie froze. His shoulders tensed and his eyes widened as he turned to face his boyfriend. His wide eyed, slacked jawed expression mirrored Richie’s at the sight of him. He glanced over at Bill for help but Bill refused to make eye contact, instead focusing himself on the camera in front of him. The shock quickly slipped off of Eddie’s face, replaced quickly by his best bitch face that Richie had seen a million times before. Richie just laughed and shook his head, the smile never leaving his face even when Eddie’s brows pinched together, and his eyes narrowed.

“Sir, if you’re not here to see Santa then you’ll have to step aside.” He dead paned.

“Well actually I’d love to see Santa but I’ve been pretty naughty this year.” Richie waggled his eyebrows over his glasses making Eddie groan.

“Hey, sounds like that are why I’m on the naughty list.” He joked. “But maybe you can put in a good word for me?”

“I doubt it.” Eddie crossed his arms self-consciously. “What are you even doing here anyway? I though you hated the mall?”

“The mall? No. The crowds, the traffic, the people fighting over gifts for people they don’t even like anyway? Yes.”

Eddie looked away, down at the line of kids, sending another running inside then wincing as one kid began having a coughing fit. Richie straightened up, the grin sliding off his face. He reached out and tugged at the point of Eddie’s ears attached to his hat.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got a job over break?”

Eddie swatted his hand away. “It just until Christmas then I’m burning these socks and the hat.”

Richie laughed, shoving his hands down in his coat pockets to resist from reaching out and tugging at the ears again. “Okay but I still don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me? I mean I’m hurt Eds! Truly, truly hurt!” Richie gritted out dramatically, clutching his heart and stumbling back, getting looks from some of the parents waiting with their kids nearby. But he felt a warm feeling of pride in his chest when he saw Eddie crack a smile.

“Shut up, I did this for you trashmouth.” Eddie shook his head, but his eyes widened and his smile dropped when he realized what he said. He straightened up and pushed the next kids forward into the house towards Mike.

Richie tilted his head to the side, “What do you mean? Are you going to wear the costume in bed? Please tell me you’re going to wear the socks at least? I can probably get Mike to loan me the Santa suit.”

Eddie pursed his lips, biting back a smile at Richie’s pervy humor that he loved to hate so much. With a soft sigh he crossed his arms again and looked up at Richie, curing their height difference not for the first time. “Look, we both know my mom cut me off after I came out and being a college kid isn’t exactly a paying gig.”

Richie nodded, he wouldn’t ever forget Eddie storming into his house in the middle of Thanksgiving, apologizing as he ranted about how he’d had enough of his mom and had finally told her off and while he was at it, told her he was gay and dating Richie. Maggie had hugged him tight and fixed him a slice of pumpkin pie, Wentworth had slapped him on the back, and Richie had never felt so proud. It was also why Eddie was spending Christmas break with the Tozier’s this year.

“And it’s our first Christmas together so I really wanted to be able to get you something.” Eddie admitted sheepishly, looking closely at Richie for his reaction.

Richie blinked, staring at Eddie for a moment, making him nervous. But Richie didn’t notice, too preoccupied with the feeling of his heart skipping and a warm blush making its way up his neck to his cheeks. “Aww, Eddie Spaghetti!” He laughed, grabbing the shorter man up into a hug and picking him up off the ground even as Eddie screeched to be put down. “You know you don’t have to get me anything right? Just spending Christmas with you is enough.”

Eddie smiled shyly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he was placed back on his feet.

“Besides I know being in a mall during flu season must be killing you right now.” Richie laughed, freely tugging on the felt ears sewed to Eddie’s hat.

Eddie swatted his hand away with more enthusiasm this time. “Yeah, yeah, just try and act surprised when you see your gift okay?”

“Oh my God, you are wearing the costume home aren’t you?!”

Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, trying to act annoyed and not at all like he was considering the idea when he grabbed the front of Richie’s sweatshirt and pulled his down into a kiss. Several of the kids standing around them groaned loudly and made exaggerated gagging noises but Richie and Eddie ignored them, instead Richie’s hands found their way to Eddie’s face, cupping his cheeks in his hands as he deepened the kiss. When they finally broke apart both out of air and the want not to get Eddie fired it was the sound of a camera snapping that caught their attention. Bill laughed to himself as he caught the kiss on camera but his expression dropped some at the angry elf now staring him down, hands on his hips.

“You’re a dead man Denbrough!”

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amosbrittany · 4 years

Text

Shattered Chapter 5

I swear I did not entirely die on this. lol Have up to chapter 9 done, shit just happened and video games are most distracting.

Disclaimer : I don’t own Transformers Animated or any characters for that matter.

Notes : I haven’t done fanfiction, let alone TF based, in ages. And never for TFA, So I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing but what the hell, I’m going for it. lol I took quite a few liberties, pulling bits from various continuities to build this sucker.

Warnings : I have a tendency to put characters through hell. A bit of Bumblebee/Blitzwing this chapter. Eventual Optimus/Sentinel, Megatron/Ultra Magnus, Jazz/Prowl and Ratchet/Pharma.

Summary : The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but Sentinel’s latest stunt might just kill them all…or worse.

The day Ultra Magnus decided to make his way to Trypticon, his chosen agents had set neatly hidden explosives all over Iacon's warp drives over the past few solar cycles as they worked from the shadows silently and swiftly. Fortress Maximus and Metroplex, as well as Omega Surpreme and the Steelhaven, had been prime targets. The only significant structure on the planet at the time capable of transwarping would be Trypticon. A few cycles after he relocated the prison, while they were scrambling to figure out what happened and retaliate, the Nexus would be taken down. It would give him a decent head start as the Autobots tried to make heads or tails of the chaos when their edge of the war was lost. By the time any wayward ships abroad came home to lead a pursuit, he would have a decent lead.

He walked down the long strip of road leading to the ominous prison in Kaon, muttering curses under his breath as it seemed his transformation cog no longer functioned. It made the trip longer than he liked and he had to adjust given the delays the defect caused, as it wasn't simply isolated to himself. Ultra Magnus already had his agents in place, lying in wait within the prison walls to take out the guards there. When he relocated the prison, he would make a deal with the Decepticons. Granted, he knew better than to trust them, but Megatron's head would prove a fine bargaining chip and outing their traitor, a show of good faith.

He had made sure the guards were prepared for his arrival, to accelerate the whole process. They quickly ushered him in once he reached the entrance and he proceeded to make a beeline for the control hub of the city-like compound. He found the warden waiting for him. "Ultra Magnus, always so good to-Uh...huh." Springer had started to greet him, hand extended before he visibly balked at his appearance. The green Autobot cleared his vocalizer apologetically then grimaced. "You...look different."

"Yes, so I'm told." The Magnus scoffed, rolling his optics. His gaze swept hungrily over the control room. "How is Trypticon's transwarp system?"

"The transwarp system? Everything is running just fine, sir." The question was oddly specific and that caused Springer to squint with suspicion. "Is...that why you wanted to visit, sir? To check on the systems? Cause that sounds like a comm-link sort of thing to me..."

"Oh, I have other reasons." He glanced at the clock, watching the time intently.

The warden gave him a quizzical look, following his gaze. "You waiting for something...?"

"Indeed I am."

~+~

Optimus rubbed his face plates. He had some newfound respect for Sentinel concerning this position at least. With Ultra Magnus being unusually difficult and flighty, it had been a lot of work to keep up with. With the capture of the Decepticons and their leader, things had to be shifted around, changes made, plans formulated. He had to oversee the construction of a prominent outpost on Earth, re-order teams, and assist the Council in as many matters as he could. Ultra Magnus and the Fringes debacle had not helped in the slightest.

Alpha Trion had accepted the agreement with Blitzwing and after going over the rosters, it was decided that Bumblebee would head operations for Autobot City on Earth with his own team consisting of the reformed Decepticon, Ironhide, Bulkhead, and Ratchet. At first he had wanted to keep the old medic close, but they had talked it over and he understood his friend's concerns. Ultimately, Pharma would become his own crew's medic. Earth, Ratchet worried, might prove something of a sensory overload for his already delicate processor and he preferred the idea of a leader who had a better track of patience than Bumblebee. Besides, two mechs with several screws loose on one team was just begging for trouble.

The yellow minibot was excited to get the assignment underway and had taken off for Kaon with the necessary documentation files to pick up their new 'Autobot' and get him up to speed. They still had a few solar cycles before they set off for Earth on the Ark, but he was sure Blitzwing could use some repairs and upgrades after his lengthy prison stay. His paint certainly could use a major touch up. As for his badge, it would likely take some time and convincing to get him to wear it just yet.

It had been tempting to go with Bumblebee, if only to see if he couldn't convince Springer to let him see Sentinel and maybe even see what Ultra Magnus was really up to over there. He imagined the Magnus staring down Megatron's disembodied head and having a little chat with him. Oh, to be a nanofly on the wall for that one. But besides that, he was concerned, mostly for Sentinel should Ultra Magnus decide to pay him a visit. He sighed wistfully, taking a moment to relax before his office doors flew open and Jazz rushed in on him. Optimus twitched, sitting up straight when he saw how agitated the other was. "Jazz, is everything okay...?"

"Pit nah, it ain't okay! Prowl's body is MIA!"

The claim sent him reeling for a klik and Optimus had to shake his head to get the sudden daze to clear. "I'm-Sorry, what? What do you mean by that?" A chilling feeling crawled up his back struts as he recalled Ultra Magnus's presence in the mausoleum a few solar cycles ago. Surely he hadn't done something nefarious...But with the way he'd been acting...Optimus pursed his lips as he opened his desk screen and began hunting through the various channels to find anything on the security for the tomb.

"You look like ya got somethin' in mind, bossbot." Jazz rounded the desk to watch over his shoulder. The cyber ninja often visited their fallen comrade's place of rest. It was a habit that caused Optimus some concern due to how often he did it, it made him wonder about the pair, but now he was almost grateful for it.

"...Ultra Magnus was at the mausoleum a few solar cycles ago. I had a bad feeling about it, but I didn't think much of it. I mean what could he possibly do in there...Here, I think this was it." Finding the backlogged security footage, he narrowed it down to the day and time. As they watched, Jazz let out a strangled noise of horror and Optimus offlined his optics. He felt like he'd just been run through the chassis as the scene played out, Ultra Magnus tossing their friend from his resting place and dragging him off like a sack of parts. Although part of him absolutely hated to press on, he forced himself to find the other footage, which led them to where Magnus had gathered several others...

And proceeded to do exactly what Sentinel had done to him, to the dead Autobots before him.

Blitzwing's words came back to him. "Cyclonus alvays zaid it came from zhe 'heart of darkness und zhe root of all evil'." The stuff was a scourge not even the Decepticons would touch. They knew it did this, Oil Slick had told Sentinel as much, but this was the terrible detail the mad scientist had omitted. It could spread like a terrible cancer. Bumblebee had said Blitzwing warned him that the Decepticons had hoped this would cause them enough of a distraction that their 'reformed comrade' would be able to find a way to release them. This was the whole dirty plan to begin with.

As the resurrected Autobots disappeared off the screen, the main question he had now was WHY...Why do that? What was the purpose? Why...

Why was he at Trypticon?

"...He's going to do something at Trypticon."

Jazz recovered from his horror only slightly. "You don't think he'd set the Decepticons loose..."

"I don't know, but I'm going to treat it like that's the plan." Optimus opened his comm-link, reaching out to Springer. <Springer, I need you to get Ultra Magnus out of there. By any means necessary. His accomplices might be there as well! Lock down the prison!>

~+~

That was a hell of a task. And what accomplices was he referring to? Ultra Magnus had come alone.

Back in Kaon, Springer's optics widened slightly when he received the call and now he had a tall order to fill. There was an alarming edge to Optimus's voice. 'I knew there was something fishy about this.' He thought to himself as he turned to Ultra Magnus and stalled, staring back at his violet gaze.

"I take it Optimus told you to get rid of me." The Magnus calmly assessed. The green Autobot froze, mouth failing to work properly. Ultra Magnus smirked smugly. "Oh, don't look so surprised. I don't normally toot my own horn, but I like to think I am an excellent strategist. I knew if anyone got a clue before the big bang, that it would be him. But I'm afraid my pieces are already in place. And there is nothing you're going to be able to do about it."

"Big bang? What big bang?" Springer demanded.

"Mmm, the biggest..."

Drawing his sword, the warden took a step towards him only to stop when cries and the sounds of battle erupted in the central command hub where they were. Magnus's agents struck out from the shadows, the initial targets of the attack going down quickly and violently. While he was distracted, Ultra Magnus swung his hammer, catching Springer upside his helm and rendering him unconscious. He accessed his comm-link as he sauntered over to the controls for the transwarp, letting his agents scurry out to incapacitate or kill any guards in their way. <Oh Optimus, that was almost well timed...Almost.>

<Magnus. What the hell did you do? Where's Prowl?!>

As he let Optimus stew in silence, wracking his processor to make heads and tails of his scheme, he picked the coordinates for a location on Earth from his data banks and proceeded to enter them into Tyrpticon's destination as the transwarp drive began to power up.

~+~

"But if you go to Earth then I won't see you again...And I feel we have much to discuss." Really, there was much for Pharma to get off his chassis. For stellar cycles, he was always too damned proud to just come out and say what he felt, he had always waited for Ratchet to say something. But it was becoming painfully clear that the older medic was insufferably oblivious. He was also spending a great deal of time with that teacher and he didn't know what was going on there. He hated it.

"Well it was either you or me, and we both know you woulda hated workin' with a reformed Con. Besides, I wanna see Sari again and being on Optimus's team means regular trips back and forth so it ain't like ya won't see this old rustbucket. Just try not to give the kid too much trouble."

Pharma started to grin with delight at the idea of regular visits for himself while Arcee was glued to her classroom, but it faded quickly when there was a commotion on Ratchet's end of the line and something violently exploded, knocking the other medic out of sight and killing the connection instantly. "Wh-? Ratchet?" The jet held his hands up, flabbergasted. "What just happened? Ratch-!"

The sound of something falling over made Pharma jump and twist around, met with the sight of a walking corpse crouching on a medical berth. It was Dodger, but he had died some time ago so how was he there now? Pharma let out a small squeak, backing around the console he was using. The dead bot was spattered with energon and brandished a pair of soaked blades he flicked menacingly. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no-! Not today, Mortilus!" Pharma cried, breaking into a run with the assassin hot on his heel struts.

An idea struck him at the last nanoklik and he threw himself into a quarantine chamber, slamming the door shut behind him and engaging the lock. He didn't care to be locked up in a quarantine cell again, but it beat being murdered. The bloodied blade slashed against the thick glass but after several attempts, the other stopped. His plates shivered fearfully as the corpse settled for staring him down through the door, as if it waited long enough, it would have him. "What in the Pit is happening...?"

~+~

"Vhat in zhe pit iz going on..." But a few cycles ago, Springer had told him approval for his pardon was underway and Bumblebee would be there shortly to collect him. He had tittered with glee, ready to put the mines and the prison behind him. Now however, the air was alive with battle and screaming Autobots. Energon was everywhere. A familiar and terrible sight had descended on the guards. Undead Autobots, the only color on their frames the insidious violet flow of Dark Energon. It was Karn all over again, just on a minuscule scale. "Oh Primus, Oil Slick...vhat did you do..."

"Scrap." Said scientist muttered. His gambit had backfired in the worst possible way.

"Oh great! Fan-fragging-tastic! Way to go, you-you-you...goop head!" Drag Strip screamed from her cell.

"Goop head, niiiiice one."

Lugnut rumbled, pleased with the wanton Autobot slaughter taking place around them. His only regret was that he wasn't taking part in it. He banged his arm against the cell wall he shared with Blitzwing. "At least you will not have to go along with the sham of pretending to be an accursed Autobot and you can die A PROUD DECEPTICON SOLDIER IN GLORIOUS AND VIOLENT BATTLE!"

Blitzwing sighed, regretting he would not see Bumblebee again as he turned from the bloody scenery beyond his cell. "I vould razher not die period..." He muttered to himself, crossing his arms petulantly.

~+~

"What in the Pit is happening?!" Since Ultra Magnus decided to let his surprise answer for itself, Optimus was trying to get a handle on the situation. But when Metroplex shook from several explosions, he was finding himself at a loss. Other, more distant explosions could be heard and reports were flying in that Fortress Maximus and several ships including the Steelhaven had been hit. He knew they were merely distractions, but he still wasn't certain for what. He was still trying to work out the why.

"Optimus, what is going on?" Alpha Trion hurried over to him with several other council members.

"Sir, it seems Ultra Magnus has launched some kind of attack here in Iacon and we've lost contact with the staff at Trypticon. We just found evidence that he used the shards from himself to resurrect other Autobots as well."

The old mech's face plates crinkled in thought. "...What has been struck here?"

"Seems like it was the...transwarp engine rooms. That's where folks are narrowin' down the origination of the explosions." Jazz supplied.

"The-" Alpha Trion stiffened as it struck him. "He's stealing Trypticon and preventing us from pursuit."

"But WHY?? That's what I can't wrap my helm around!" Optimus's servos flew up to grab his helm. What in the name of Cybertron was the Magnus doing? As Alpha Trion tried to reroute any and all warships to Tyrpticon for a full blown assault, the Prime tried to get his focus back. "And how long will it take for him to actually do that?"

"The quantum engines will need but twenty cycles to jump the entirety of the prison wherever it is he plans to go. Much less if he plans to take only part of it. And if he is freeing the Decepticons, it will most likely be to a place like New Kaon or Charr."

Jazz shook his head. "Not gonna get much there in time to take the prison down, sir. Not unless we kick on the Nexus and if Magnus rigged the fortresses and ships-"

"Then we will use only one tower while the trackers seek out the other explosives..."

~+~

Ultra Magnus watched the quantum engines power, waiting for when it looked like the core of the prison would be good to go. No doubt Alpha Trion was expecting him to take the whole kit and kaboodle, but all he needed was the heart of the beast. That was where all the essentials were. He idly peeled away his Autobot badge as he continued to observe the engines's progress. There was little point to wearing it now...

He wasn't much of an Autobot. Not anymore.

"Report." He ordered.

Flanking him, his Terrorcons bowed in compliance. Prowl answered him. "All of the guards, civilians and workers that ran or fought have been slain. Along with the warden, we have detained three guards, two civilians, and five workers. The only surviving medic, Pharma, has locked himself in one of the quarantine units. We cannot get him out without specific codes, and he cannot get himself out."

"We'll remove him shortly then." The codes were not an issue, as Magnus he had access to everything, and the medical bay was a part of the core he intended to take. It was fortunate they had Pharma of all medics. He could easily be scared into doing as he was told. Ratchet wasn't around to embolden him. "Dispose of Scalpel. I don't need that little crab scuttling off where I cannot find him and I especially don't need that being the case and he puts Megatron back together before I am ready to deal with him."

"Of course, master." The cyber ninja disappeared to deal with the Decepticon in question.

The main screen of the central command hub pinged. He smiled eerily. "Someone is trying to make a house call. Delightful." He leaned back languidly in his chair, enabling the screen. As expected, Alpha Trion's ancient visage greeted him. He couldn't see Optimus, he was most likely out on the field, trying to handle the chaos, save the injured and assess the damage. "Oh...Where is the SIC? Attending to Ratchet, I suppose...I did leave a nasty little something on Omega Supreme in particular. Can't have that beast come after us, after all..."

"Ultra Magnus. I do not know why you are out to free the Decepticons, but I-"

"Hm? Oh, no. That has nothing to do with this at all actually. Before I'm done, they'll be offline, I assure you." Ultra Magnus waved his hand dismissively. "Particularly Blitzwing, I've no doubt. When I tell the others about his little plans, I'll let them rip him apart."

The way the old mech's face plate crinkled, indicating that he had been thrown off and confused, was quite nice. He always enjoyed that look on his face. But the old mech pressed forward, speaking to him as if he were addressing a wayward son, a troubled youth. His tone was almost pleading and weary, as if his answer would fill him with understanding. But they both knew it would only be more questions, more confusion. "Then why, Magnus...Why are you doing this?"

"In the end, Alpha, death claims us all. But this? This was not how it was supposed to be. Not for me. I was but a step from the Well of Allsparks, and now...It's forever denied me." Magnus lifted his hand, staring at it. The proto-flesh of his form was slowly deteriorating, becoming emaciated. What had once been thick, strong digits, were becoming thinning claws. He had no idea if he had a time limit on what his body could endure of the Dark Energon, but he wasn't inclined to find out. He pushed up from his seat, discreetly glancing at the console screen. The time was now. "I am going to have this remedied. I will not suffer for eternity for the selfish and foolish actions of a swine in search of his glory. And if I have to take everyone and everything down with me to save myself from oblivion, I will. I’ll gladly take my stay in the Pit for it all if I have to. If you want someone to blame, feel free to blame Sentinel...although I promise that while I do my work, I will ensure he is properly punished. Good bye, Alpha Trion."

Punctuating his grim words, Ultra Magnus reached down and threw the switch, teleporting Trypticon's main body away to Earth.

#transformers animated #transformers #fanfiction #ultra magnus #optimus prime #prowl #jazz #bumblebee #blitzwing #ratchet #pharma #megatron #idfk yall

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deafwestnewsies · 4 years

Text

there will always be someone to your rescue

Sarah Jacobs will stop at nothing to find her brother.

davey x jack, sarah x kath

read it on my ao3!

read part one (and from his lips came forth the world) here!

read part two (and oh, don’t you want to get better) here!

“What the fuck!” the girl barked, before slamming her fist down on the computer’s keyboard. Illuminated only by the light of her screen, the bags under her eyes became more prominent with every passing second. Typing away furiously, trying (and failing) another safety measure, she unconsciously began chewing on the ends of her hair. Another girl, more fair, more well-rested, slowly approached the working woman.

“Darling, I know this is difficult-”

“He’s missing, Kath. No one has seen him in days.” Sarah jerked her shoulder out of Katherine’s tender touch, the other girl backing away with practiced patience. She flicked on the overhead light, exposing the forgotten cups of coffee, the leftover crusts of a sandwich Kath didn't even remember making, to the 3am world.

It began with the phone call, the one Sarah made after her brother never returned home from what was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill job. Davey disappeared into the night and never came home again, causing Sarah to spiral into a cycle of worry and anger, with a hint of secrecy. Lying to her parents about where he was. Calling him, day and night. Trying to reactivate the tracker inside of his suit, the one that randomly sputtered out near the apartment village on campus. Sarah spent her days stalking the outside of that building, anxiously looking for her brother in every face that passed.

“Please come to bed,” Katherine pleaded with her. “He is smart, and he is alive. And he will stay that way when you wake up, I swear. How can you help him when you’re half-dead yourself?”

Sarah turned in her chair, the days of exhaustion clear on her face. Standing without warning, she crumpled into Kath’s arms, body wracked with sobs that couldn’t produce tears. “I hate him,” she whimpered. “Where did he go?”

Katherine pet the top of her girlfriend’s head, feeling just as useless as before. “He’ll come home soon. He’s Davey.”

&&&

“What the fuck?” Race asked incredulously before slapping Davey across the face. “First, you go around robbing people. Second, you try to kill my boy, multiple times. Third, we take you in because we are clearly superior and stronger than you,” Davey’s jaw clenched in anger, an angry red handprint already forming on his cheek, “Fourth, you break a window in an apartment we lease, and fifth, you try to kill Jack and set half of Kohler park on fire. I liked it there, you asshole!”

Jack did nothing but stand by, his body language steeped in anger. He wouldn’t protect David, not after what he had done, the lies that he had told him straight to his face. “I could do anything for you, too.” The words echoed in his head, louder than the blood pounding in his ears, causing him to blush furiously. He was so embarrassed. Jack had a duty to protect this city and the people he loved, and he let himself get distracted by a boy? A supervillain boy? It was enough to retire altogether.

“Race,” Spot came up quietly behind the (still yelling) boy. “It’s 3am. We’s got neighbors.” Race angrily shook Spot’s hand off of his shoulder, his pent up rage redirecting itself.

“We should kill you.” Race finalized, causing Jack to react for the first time.

“We aren’t killing him,” he said quietly. “We’re dealing with him in the morning. I’m-” Jack struggled to find the words as he locked eyes with David. He was silently pleading. “I’m going to bed.” Turning towards his bedroom, his final words followed him down the hall. “He sleeps on the couch tonight.” Pathetic.

&&&

“Wake up-” Sarah felt hands shaking her awake. “Wake up, darling. You’ve gotta hear this!” She sat up, confused, just to have a computer screen shoved in her face, the unnatural light blinding her. “I was reading the paper and look!”

Blinking through the pain, Sarah slowly read the headline of the article- Fire Set Late Last Night at Kohler Park, Source Unconfirmed. “Was anyone hurt?” She asked, the fog slowly clearing. Katherine, not answering, clicked to a different tab, revealing a police report. “How did you get th-?”

“Don’t question my methods, just read.” Robbery occurring at 52nd and West, unidentified white man, approximately 6’2, medium build. Witnesses saw a ‘bright light’ that appeared to be moving from one place to another that followed the culprit. $17,000 stolen, exactly. “And isn’t that how much Davey needed for tuition?” Katherine asked, practically bouncing off of her side of the bed.

“Zine behsechel,” Sarah muttered under her breath. “Once I know he isn’t dead, I’m going to murder him.”

&&&

Davey couldn’t stop counting the ceiling tiles. There were forty-nine in the living room, and thirteen that he could see in the kitchen. Round and round he went, the numbers always remaining the same, the only constant that was left in his life.

He was in deep shit. There was no better way of saying it.

The money had flown away as if by magic, all seventeen thousand that he had taken from that corner bank, the memory of bills slipping through his fingers stinging more than it should. The light of the fire still shone behind his eyes, the image of a lightning bolt, his lighting bolt, splitting a tree down the middle. His powers had grown in that moment and he felt it down at his core. Blinding light filling his lungs and carrying him across vast distances, Davey had felt faster than ever before. It was fueled by fear, however, and anger. He had just gotten so furious, so horribly angry at the world, the life he was meant to lead, that everything spiraled out of hand until it was all gone. Until there was only Jack.

Pathetic. He was so pathetic! In his most vulnerable state he had just outed himself like that, his absolute pea brain thinking that that moment was a good time to tell Jack how he felt. Good, righteous Jack, Jack who had never done anything with a hint of malice in his life, Jack who had given him ten thousand second chances, Jack. How could he resist him? Sure, he had been their ‘prisoner,’ but they poked fun at him, let Davey in on their inside jokes, helped him muddle through a midterm. He felt whole again, something he hadn’t had for a long time. And now here he was, lying on a grimy sofa, split again into a million pieces.

“Zine behsechel!” His mother’s favorite swear, and saying it out loud made him feel okay again, if only for a second.

&&&

Sarah stared at the hundred dollar bill caught underneath her foot, halfway burnt to a crisp. The park was taped off, policemen roaming the area, and Katherine and Sarah stood in the corner. Katherine had flashed her student reporter badge claiming she was with The World, and as an officer asked to see it a little closer, Kath thanked him loudly and pulled Sarah under the caution tape with her. They now stood still, clutching their hands together tightly, unable to tear their eyes away from the wreckage.

This was more than a fire by a long shot. One tree lie on its side, split clean in half, the scorch marks still smouldering slightly, and Sarah couldn’t stop imagining her dear baby brother in the middle of all of this. Davey, who cared so much about their family, Davey, who sat with Les as he cried over math homework and secretly paid the bills when their parents couldn’t. He was just a little kid in her heart, but he was forced to grow up so fast.

“I can’t believe he’s so… strong,” Kath whispered to her. “Where did he get all of this power?”

“He’s always been able to do this,” Sarah said, the pain clear in her voice. “He’s been holding himself back.”

Before Katherine could respond, a police scanner lit up behind them. “Sargent? We found a GPS device of some sort. We’re sending it your way.”

&&&

Jack set a mug of coffee between them. “Drink it.” He demanded, the first words he had spoken all day. David carefully picked it up, surreptitiously smelling the drink. “It’s not poisoned, David. Just drink it.” His voice was tired. Jack was tired.

“Can we talk about-”

“No.” Jack cut him off. “We’ll talk about that when I’m ready.”

David took a sip. “‘S good.”

Jack nodded, already getting up. “It’s infused with rosewater.”

&&&

“If I’m right, which I am, this will lead us to where he’s been the whole time,” Sarah crowed triumphantly. “Whoever disabled this was good, but I’m better and I-” she popped a panel out, “have all of the answers.” With a second of shaking, a small end ejected itself, and she plugged it into her computer.

Getting the GPS back had been one hell of a ride. Katherine had a small notebook on hand, so she began asking questions to the nearest detective about ‘citizen concern’ and ‘exactly what action they were taking to catch the person who had done such a dastardly thing,’ while Sarah eyeballed the evidence table behind him. After three minutes of Katherine making questions up on the spot (“Always the mark of a good reporter, Sarah.”) they watched another man lumber by, dropping the GPS Sarah had so carefully handcrafted on the table. She winced at the rattle of parts, but gently touched Katherine on the arm and said she was using the restroom, only to slide past the table and pick up her creation. Minutes later Katherine had met her in the car, wrinkling her nose and tearing up the police officer’s number, which he had given to her “in case she needs to know anything else.”

Now peering over her shoulder, Katherine scoffed. “That’s the same apartment building. That doesn’t help.”

“Maybe so, but I am smarter than that.” Sarah stopped for a moment, turning to face her girlfriend with feigned shock. “You know I am smarter than that, right dear?” She kissed her quick, turning back to her computer. “I could track his footsteps, too. That way, if I were his eyes on a job, I could keep him hidden. But right now, that tells us exactly which apartment he walked up to.” She banged on her keyboard some more until she had an address.

Katherine was already grabbing their jackets as Sarah swept out of the doorway.

&&&

Race was pleading with David, which was quite the feat. “C’mon. I know we’re like, fighting over whatever right now, but pleeease play along.” David sat stone-faced, holding the script to the Merry Wives of Windsor, refusing to read lines with Race. “I’m begging you. We start tech week tomorrow, and I’m not even half memorized-”

“I don’t know what a tech week is,” the disgust evident in David’s voice, “but I can’t exactly turn the pages with these on.” He held up his hands, still bound by the specialized handcuffs.

“Sure you can! Just kinda,” Race struggled to flip the pages with his wrists touching, “and then a little bit of,” adjusted the script in his lap, “and bam! Easy!”

Rolling his eyes, Davey moved his legs apart and let the script fall to the ground. “Oops,” he said plaintively. A knock at the door saved them both from sparking another argument, and instead slapped Davey on the top of his head with his script. It reminded him of messing around with Les, in a way. Goddamnit, I almost killed his best friend and they’re still nice to me!

David was not prepared for Race to fall to the ground holding a bloody nose as soon as he opened the door. Sarah Jacobs stood on the other side, eyes blazing, and shouting, “Give me back my brother, you dipshit!”

i just really wanted an excuse for katherine to call sarah 'darling' so i wrote this anyways this series is getting really dark and i don't think i can promise a happy ending just yet.

#newsies #newsies live #newsies on tour #newsies 1994 #newsies on broadway #newsies au #superhero au #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #sprace #javid #newsbians #javid au

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eddieeatsass · 4 years

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I read The Key To Pleasure and fucking loved it dude. Could you do some stenbrough with top Bill and bottom Stan? Maybe using toys or something along those lines, maybe in front of the losers or where they can hear.. I’m giving you creative control lmao. I love your writing!

Thank you so much for this prompt! It was so fun, and I love Stenbrough and really don’t write enough of them, so thanks for giving me a less popular ship to work with. :’)Read on AO3 or below

It was the end of autumn and the Losers had been en route to their shared cabin all day. It was a few hours drive outside their hometown, so they’d taken two cars as to not drive themselves crazy by packing together like sardines.

They’d arrived half an hour ago, and had coupled up to head off and claim their rooms. Stan and Bill had chosen the room on the top floor; a cozy attic conversion with an abundance of bedding and not much else. The ceilings were slanted into a triangle, shaping the roof outside, and at the back of the room was a large window that led out to a small balcony, merely large enough for one individual to stand on.

It was quaint, exactly the kind of atmosphere Bill and Stan were looking for on their mini vacation. Of course, their excitement was only amplified by the fact that their best friends were sharing the weekend with them.

When they’d proposed the idea, they weren’t sure how the others would react. Bill had explained their plans for the trip, and had left the offer open for the losers to tag along, but they’d never done anything like this before so there was hesitancy on how everyone would respond.

Luckily, their friends had grown to be very sex-positive (and comparably kinky) individuals, so they were eager to join in on Bill and Stan’s little exhibitionist tryst.

But regardless of everyone’s eager response, Stan still felt his gut clench at the idea of an entire weekend at the mercy of Bill, while their friends were free to watch on as they liked. It was new, and it nudged at a place of vulnerability that Stan hadn’t felt in a long time, but it also created an unfathomable amount of arousal to pump through his system. It made him dizzy every time he thought about it for too long, thought about all of the things Bill could do to him, and how Stan would be on full display the entire time.

As Stan was lost in thought, Bill began unpacking some of their things. He bypassed their clothing and toiletries, navigating instead towards some of the more fun items he’d brought along.

He pulled out a bottle of lube, along with a silk pink ribbon and one of the glass dildos from their collection. Stan was already shivering at the sight.

“We’re starting right away?” Stan asked timidly, uncrossing and then recrossing his legs in a nervous gesture.

“Only if you’re ready.” Bill answered, his voice soft and gentle, insistent on not making Stan feel pressured one way or another.

Stan nodded at him, and as a second gesture of consent, began shedding his clothes.

“You know we can stop at any point.” Bill ensured. “If it becomes too much for you-”

“I know.” Stan cut him off, smiling reassuringly. “The safeword is blue jay.”

Bill crossed the room swiftly, closing the distance between them with a fiery kiss that knocked Stan back into the mattress. They laughed into each other’s mouths, continuing the kiss with a little less passionate but the same amount of love. Now, Stan felt ready.

“Alright… do your worst, Denbrough.” Stan challenged cockily.

“Oh ho ho, you’re gonna regret saying that, Stanny.”

In a flash, Bill wrapped his arms around Stan’s thin frame and flipped him on his belly, exposing his bare ass to the firm slap that Bill delivered. Stan’s face split into a grin, his body reacting to the action as if it had been trained to. He lifted his hips up off the bed and swiveled his ass in the air. The action revealed the bejeweled butt plug that was nested deep inside him, keeping him at the ready for whenever Bill wanted to take him. Stan lifted his hips even higher, silently begging for another slap, but it never came.

Instead, Bill shifted his weight and reached for Stan's extended arms, easily bringing them together at the wrists and beginning to wrap them with the ribbon. It was a soft, soothing sensation, a juxtaposition to the excitement thrumming through his veins. Once he was securely tied up, and Bill had tested the security of his bondage, his body heat disappeared from the bed for a moment.

The dip in the bed alerting Stan to Bill's return was accompanied by the cold press of glass against the bottom of his spine. It lit up his insides like fire.

Bill had picked up the glass dildo and was slowly teasing it up the bumps of Stan’s spine, spreading shivers across his shoulder blades and shooting down his arms into his fingertips.

“Bill… Don’t tease.” Stan pleaded, knowing it was to no avail. Bill was going to do what he was going to do, and Stan’s whining wouldn’t change it.

“Oh, eager, are we Birdie?” Bill teased, dragging the glass object back down towards where Stan wanted it most.

Stan muffled an impatient sound into the bedding, letting his body relax into it as he surrendered to Bill’s ministrations.

It took another few tormenting minutes for Bill to be done with his torture, and to finally grab the lube that he’d set on the bedside table. He set the dildo next to Stan’s face purposefully, giving Stan the time to observe the size of the object that was about to be inserted into him. His hole fluttered in response, winking up at Bill’s watchful gaze. When Bill caught sight of it, his hands started moving double time.

Stan felt the stretch of muscle as Bill removed the butt plug, followed immediately by the distinct chill of lube against his hole. It dripped down his perineum, getting dangerously close to tainting their sheets, before Bill swooped in with a single finger and scooped it all up and into his loose hole. He was already stretched open, having been worked apart this morning and then plugged up on their ride down, but the intrusion still made him jump.

Stan spread his legs instinctively, giving Bill more room to kneel on the bed behind him and venture farther into him. Stan’s dick strained against the mattress beneath him, trapped in a constant push and pull of friction as Bill’s fingers worked in and out and in and out and in and out.

Bill kept his rhythm throughout his addition of fingers, until eventually he was able to fit four digits into Stan’s body with ease; just big enough to fit the dildo he’d chosen.

The object in question was beautiful. It was made of clear glass with accents of blue swirled within it. At the top was a slight flare to imitate the appearance (and feel) of the head of a cock, and there was a smooth curve to the entire thing. Bill had gotten it custom made for their one year anniversary from a college friend of his who was taking a glass blowing course. Apparently, the whole ordeal had nearly gotten her kicked out of the class for using the studio for ‘personal use’, so Bill and Stan really cherished the toy.

Bill retrieved the dildo from next to Stan, pulling his gaze along with it as he prepped it with a generous coating of lube.

The first push of the dildo against Stan’s ring of nerves had him already quivering, aching for more. It slid in relatively easily, the sleek glass making for a gentle slide.

Stan let out a long, low moan as the toy bottomed out inside him, its flared head nestling right up against his prostate. He felt impossibly full, the density of the object only adding to the sensation.

Bill left the toy burrowed deep inside Stan as he moved up his partner’s body, trailing slow kisses up his back before settling at his ear.

“You look so beautiful like th-th-this.” Bill whispered, his stutter coming back as arousal clouded his mind. Stan loved Bill’s stutter, loved the moments when it slipped back out and reminded him of the old days.

Bill was blanketed over Stan’s form, his pelvis level with Stan’s ass. If Bill were nude, it would be the perfect position for Bill to take Stan apart completely, but this wasn’t about that. Right now, the focus was on Stan, and Bill’s control over him.

And Bill knew the control he had. He rested his hips up against Stan’s lower back and bucked up experimentally, pushing the dildo farther into Stan with his movement.

Stan gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as his jaw tightened with the effort not to cum on the spot. Bill repeated his action, apparently happy with the response it had gotten the first time. Stan forced himself to relax, focus on his breathing and come back from the edge, but every cant of Bill’s hips drew another strangled moan out of his throat.

Eventually they fell into a steady rhythm; Bill humping into Stan and kissing down his neck while Stan mewled wantonly below him.

Stan could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, that tingle that indicated he wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer.

“Hnngg- Bill- Bill I’m getting close-” Stan tried to stutter out, gasping when Bill hit his prostate straight on.

“I love being the one to make you stutter.” Bill purred, his voice floating through the haze in Stan’s mind.

“Damn that’s smooth.” A familiar voice carried from the other side of their door, followed by the sound of a slap, an angry whisper, and then a clutter as the door flung wide open and in fell two wide eyed Losers.

Stan tried to hold back his orgasm, he really did, but it had already started by the time Richie and Beverly were staring straight at him, and he couldn't stop the waves as they crested.

“Ahhhh- fuck.” Stan whispered into the dead silence of the room, grasping the sheets in an iron grip and letting his head fall so he didn’t have to watch the look on his friends’ faces as he came. His shoulders tensed up, mapping out the muscles in his back in a ripple effect that had Bill chuckling darkly from above him.

His release left as quickly as it had come, but it was one of the strongest he’d ever felt, leaving Stan too dizzy to look up quite yet. Instead, he stayed stalk still, focusing on evening out his breathing.

He felt Bill shift off of him and his fingers twitched in an effort to reach for his partner, but again, his body hadn't quite caught up with him yet. Luckily, Bill knew him like he knew the back of his hand, and said hand instinctively began rubbing small circles into Stan’s back. He sighed contentedly, almost instantly forgetting that two of his friends were still in the room.

But of course Richie wouldn’t stand to be forgotten.

“Shit Staniel, I've never seen you make that face before!”

“Richie! Shut up!” Beverly hushed warningly.

Bill just chuckled, a deep noise that shook the bed a little and warmed Stan from the inside out.

“It’s alright, there's no secrets here. Right Stanny?”

Bill had moved from Stan’s back to his head, massaging his fingers into Stan’s messy curls.

“Mmmmm.” Stan hummed, hoping it was response enough.

Luckily, no one prodded for more.

“Well, we originally came up here to tell you two that dinner is ready, but then trashmouth was overpowered by his dick.”

“I was not! I was just curious!” Richie defended, his face lighting up bright pink.

“Yeah yeah, come on dumbass.” Beverly grabbed Richie by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up along with her then back out the door, shutting it behind them.

Stan waited a few beats before peeking out between his curtain of curls, surveying the room to see it empty. He finally allowed himself to flop over on to his back, cringing at the mess that was now smeared across his stomach and their sheets. He looked up to Bill, who was eyeing him with a playful smirk.

In tandem they both peeled into laughter, Stan teetering off a little abruptly when he felt the toy shifting around inside him. With a stark reminder of the position he was still in, Stan awkwardly brought his bound hands down between his legs and pulled the toy from himself. He laid it beside him, long having given up on keeping their bedding clean.

"So how was your first venture into exhibitionism?" Bill teased, reaching over to untie Stan's wrists.

"Interesting, to say the least." Stan smiled back. As soon as he was free, he threw his arms around Bill's shoulders and pulled him down on top of himself, using the close quarters to lock their lips together.

Despite them both smiling too much to properly kiss, they still did their best, parting only when Bill noticed that his flannel had fallen victim to their mess.

“I'd say a shower is warranted before we go down for dinner." Stan commented, and then adding as a last thought. "And maybe a round of laundry too."

Bill stared down in absolute admiration of the boy he'd gotten to fall in love with.

"I'll follow your lead. We both know I'm only in charge in the bedroom." He joked, earning a light slap to the arm and more laughter.

They spent the rest of the evening cleaning themselves and their room up. Once they finally made it down for dinner, their spaghetti was cold and sitting abandoned at the dinner table. They could hear the rest of their friends chattering in the living room down the hall, and Bill and Stan both felt completely at peace as they sat down and began eating, their free hands clasped together atop the table.

#stenbrough #stanley uris #stan uris #bill denbrough #stenbrough fanfic #stenbrough fanfiction #stenbrough smut #stenbrough lemon #it 2017 #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it smut #it lemon #my writing #Anonymous

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