bubblegumbulletshells · 1 year ago
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Jokes on everyone I MADE THREE OF THEM AND LET THEM LOOSE IN THE DINEING ROOM >:D
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soulwillower · 4 years ago
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crush culture • richie tozier
(richie tozier x reader)
requested: fic where Richie and reader have been best friends since kindergarten, and have always had feelings for eachother secretly, until one day richie gets a girlfriend (just to take his mind off her), and the reader gets jealous and distances herself from him? he obviously gets upset by this- and things go on from there? sorry if it’s too specific! love u!
warnings: swearing, brief mentions of death, fighting, mentions of an abusive relationship, intentionally pissing off richie, a bit of angst, richie is an oblivious idiot, but reader is MUCH more of an idiot, like dude lmao, but i think that’s it, unedited tho
this isn’t rly based off crush culture, but i took the title from conan gray’s song :)  
[losers + reader are 18+ in this!!!]
3.8k words L O L :))
you swear to god, you’re getting sick. that’s what this was, for sure.
it started about a month ago, when you started to get headaches and terrible hollow feelings in your stomach. it happened everywhere - in the line for coffee, in class, driving home from school, at the dinner table. but it got a hundred times worse at night and then seemed to triple in force every morning when you woke.
and it all came at you some time after richie announced he had a new girlfriend.
you were really sick the few days after that, enough that you stayed home from school and laid in bed, the pit in your stomach sinking. it didnt take long for you to realize how bad richie’s girlfriend was - she treated him like a dog, like he embarrassed her - and he didn’t even seem to mind. he just brushed off every offhand comment, rolled his eyes with a grin when she told him she didn’t want to see his friends or when she told him to stop talking. 
he still seemed to like her, anyways. and that thought made your stomach convulse.
so then you had to distance yourself from richie because it hurt you to see him with her. it hurt you to see him with someone who didn’t treat him like the incredible person he was. 
so yeah.
you say you’re sick, but you know that’s not really true. it’s easier than accepting reality at this point, though, so you spew this nonsense (to yourself, mostly) in order to justify ignoring your best friend of nearly a decade because christ, he is becoming unbearable.
like the other day, at lunch while you were all sitting in the courtyard. it was your first time eating with them again after almost a week and a half, as you’d been eating alone in your car recently to avoid richie. “rich, why’d you take off the nail polish?” bev asked, out of the blue, sounding disappointed as she grabbed his free hand and examined it.
he blew smoke out of his mouth slowly and you had forced yourself to look away, the sight of richie doing nearly anything these days being pretty dangerous for you. it also made you sigh a bit - you knew he only smoked at lunch now, since his girlfriend hated it.
“don’t want my paws to be prettier than y/n’s when we hold hands.” he had joked, wagging an eyebrow at you. you’d shook your head and looked to the ground in lew of a real response, just as you had been doing a lot recently.
you'd missed richie’s frown at your reaction, but you did catch his next statement as it was added on, “nah, actually it’s because the ol’ G-F didn’t like it. thought it looked too girly.”
you, stan, bev, and mike all stopped chewing to look at richie, in varying stages of bewilderment. you'd cleared your throat quickly but decided against speaking up just as richie’s phone started to ring. he’d answered it nearly immediately, the enthusiasm of which made you feel like you’re going to be sick again - because richie never answers your calls until the last possible minute.
god, jealousy is a fucking disease.
“hey, sugar.” he had purred suavely into the phone and for some reason, hearing him call someone else sugar had you abruptly rising, gathering your things and nearly running off to put as much distance between you and four-eyes as you possibly could, because you’re not sure how much more you could take.
after that, you were absolutely sure it was just pure denial on your part.
as far as you could tell, richie wasn't noticing too much. he still phoned your house every day, just to be met with your mother telling him you 'weren't available,' and then he'd call your own phone, which you'd let buzz itself into a dark hole on your bedside table while you stared at it solemnly, guilt heavy on your mind as he left voicemail after voicemail. 
he doesn't deserve it, you think as you open the doors to the school library, backpack on your shoulders. but you can't help it. you're not his girlfriend, and you're not mature enough to accept that with any ounce of elegance so instead you just ignore him all together. at least you're self-aware, right? that ought to count for something.
you shake your head just as a voice catches your attention, “well look who decided to show up!”
richie's sitting at the usual study table in the very back corner of the library, a spot tucked away by rows upon rows of dusty books and an alcove of couches. bill sits at the head of the table, scribbling his chicken scratch handwriting onto graph paper, mike next to richie with a textbook spread out flat. across from mike is stan, writing out his statistics work. 
all three of them wave at you before going back to their work, whereas richie just watches you expectantly. his feet are kicked up on the table, textbook balanced on his lap as he hovers on two leg chairs. his smile is as blinding as always, a dimple faint on his left cheek and full eyebrows raised in jest. his curls frame his face perfectly and you want to scream.
but you take your seat next to stan with a tight lipped smile, not really sure how to respond to richie. are you even allowed to be flirty with him like you used to? he still does it on the rare occasions when you do see each other - but that itself is the issue, you figure. his flirting is just a joke, a tiff from one friend to another. but you can't see him as just a friend, and that’s unfair to him.
so you stay quiet, which makes it infinitely more awkward.
richie clears his throat and you pull out your work with an awkward expression, the minutes slowly churning by in what has to be the quietest hangout with the Losers yet.
you feel the tension building in your body and in the air, and you're not sure what's wrong with you or why you have so much resentment towards richie in this moment, because he's not done one single thing to offend anyone in the last ten minutes.
then richie's phone rings suddenly and mike jumps a bit as he's startled out of the passage he's reading. you all look down to richie's screen, where his girlfriend's name blares up at you and all you can feel is white hot jealousy coursing through your body.
richie looks half way exhausted and annoyed at the call, which you find extremely odd and out of character, not to mention persistently frustrating.
as you all stare at the phone, the tension in the room stretches tighter and tighter, like a rubber band and you can't breathe -
"uh, why is she calling you?" mike asks, as if this was something that was forbidden or shocking in any way, and for some reason, that is finally it.
the rubber band snaps.
"how could you forget, mike? they're in love!" you say with mock enthusiasm. 
bill shoots you an alarmed look that you probably should read into or at least consider for a moment, but instead you're looking directly at richie, as if challenging him.
he blinks at you and clenches his jaw, "she and i haven't really been... talking recently." richie says lightly, shooting a glance to mike.
“well then maybe you’re just not right for each other.” you quip, the blood boiling in your veins. richie's eyes snap to you and you see the fire behind them as he suddenly breaks.
“sorry, did i miss the divine intervention when god floated down on a cloud of marshmallows and deemed you expert in relationships?” he says abruptly, making your eyes widen at his outburst. he continues, “because last time i checked, you’re a bit of a failure in that department. so i don't need some jealous, disappearing-act wannabe criticizing my life when she's barely even in it.” he seethes. it’s near quiet in the library anyways, but his words seem to silence the entire town.
with a quick glance to your right, stan and bill sharing an uncomfortable look, and mike is staring down intently at his work with wide eyes.
you want to die.
does richie know? has he known this whole time that you're just deeply, painfully head over heels for him? 
"i'm so sick of your bullshit. maybe you're jealous because you want what i had, but you’re being really fucking rude."
you nearly cry. or scream.
“criticism doesnt equal jealousy, okay?” you spit without thinking, immediately regretting even opening your mouth. you're so intent on covering for yourself, you don't even take into account the phrasing he'd used when referring to his girlfriend, instead fighting with richie in order to keep your secret from him.  
this is not how you’d intended today to go. he stares at you, eyebrows furrowed in a way that almost makes you keel over in sadness, the guilt of the situation falling too heavily on your shoulders and crushing you.
it’s tranquilizing to see him like this -  he's fuming, but he's also got bright, glistening eyes which you think may be filling up with tears.
“i didn’t really ask for your input, though.” he mutters, cheeks reddening as tears definitely well in his eyes behind his lenses. “you can’t just ignore me at your every whim just to come right back and tell me what's good for me.”
you blink, shaking your head quickly, deciding to back off. now is not the time to fight, especially when you know he’s right. you had no idea it was hurting him like this. "richie, i... i just wanted-" you gape at him, extremely embarrassed.
“-i don’t fucking care what you wanted, y/n.” richie says sharply, causing you to shut your mouth so quick your jaw clicks in the silence. clearly, even the other boys are perturbed by richie’s actions and everyone’s staring down in silence at their homework.
it’s quiet like that for a few minutes, the tension so thick that you’d need a jackhammer just to chip away at it. but stan rummages through his bag suddenly, pulling out two painkillers and dry swallowing them. you don't look at anyone else, your stomach hollow and your heart thumping so hard in your chest you think you may explode.
"d-do you have a headache?" bill asks, looking at stan with concern. the sudden voice causes you to perk up, head flowing with humiliation at the fight you and richie had just had in front of your friends.
“yeah, but it’s not that bad. i guess i’m used to it.” stan says, pen between his teeth.
“just because you’re used to something doesn’t make it any less unhealthy for you.” you say louder than necessary, your mouth suddenly deciding to speak without consulting your brain. 
the glare of pure frustration that richie throws you pierces your lungs and suddenly makes you feel lightheaded. 
your pettiness doesn’t go unresponsive, of course, and mike sighs into his hands, standing up to gather his things. "alright. i can't study when you two are like this. i'll see you guys later."
richie sighs quietly and bill and stan mumble good-bye's. the library goes back to quiet for maybe three more minutes, until you see stanley start to fidget like he usually does when he's anxious. and then you notice it after a few seconds, too.
richie won't stop tapping his foot on the desk.
for everyone's sake, you try to ignore it, because you know richie can't help his compulsions - especially when he's upset (which, your mind painfully reminds you, is all your fault).
but it's driving you crazy.
“-if you keep doing that i’ll throw you out that fucking window rich, i swear.” stan mutters not unkindly, his eyes rolling to meet richie with a concerned gaze as richie stares out the window.
you raise your eyebrows, “what’re you even looking at?” you ask, trying to mend a bit of the open, festering wound you’d created in you and richie’s friendship.
without looking at you, richie shrugs. “checking to see how high the drop is. may be worth it to have schnoz just toss me down. it would certainly do you a favor right? gettin ol’ trashmouth gone for good.”
what was he saying? you look at him, scandalized. stan and bill don’t even say anything about the offensive nickname as you gape at richie. "what the fuck?" is all your brilliant mind can think.
"what, you can dish it but you can't take it?" richie says sharply. he shakes his head, looking upset. "i'm tired of trying to be friends with a fucking brick wall."
then he's gathering his one notebook and swiftly exiting your alcove in the library in a wind of cigarettes and cologne. 
you blink, his words sinking in and making you sigh shakily. your stomach feels hollow as you remember the expression of glee on his face when you'd walked into the library, and how completely different and broken he'd looked as he'd left. you think you're going to cry.
“every minute that you don't follow him digs yourself deeper into this grave, you know.” stan says, giving you a stern but encouraging look.
you let out a shaky sigh and scramble to grab your bag, tripping over your feet as you run out of the library, flying down the staircase faster than you've ever gone and making it to your lifelong best friend just as he reaches his car in the parking lot.
"-a brick wall?" you ask, out of breath. you see richie hold back an eye roll, his arms crossing over each other as he serves you a look of discomposure.
he shrugs helplessly, looking as if he's at his wit's end.
"what do you want me to say, y/n? you've been avoiding me for weeks. i know i'm annoying and obnoxious and whatever, but i'm not blind." he says, making you swallow as guilt pangs through your chest. you have been so fucking selfish, haven't you?
it hurts to hear him say that about himself. 
he sniffles a bit, sounding choked up as he goes on, "i've had a rough couple of days - weeks, even. but every time i'm near, it's like you've had more than enough, and you just leave. am i that repulsive? why do you suddenly hate me?" he asks, looking desperate as his eyes rim red, filling with tears again.
“what did i do?” his voice cracks as he whispers the sentence and your heart breaks in two.
your own vision goes glassy as he continues, "-i've needed you, y/n/n. i'm lost, i'm seriously not okay and you just don't care at all."
you're stunned for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently as your mind races to rush something out, anything,because you aren't sure you can bear to see richie look at you like this for one more second. but your silence comes off wrong to richie, and tears slip out of his eyes.
“don’t you love me?” he asks, voice hoarse and cutting right through you, deeper than any knife ever could. "don't you want me to be happy?" he adds and you take a shaky breath, looking helplessly at him, where you're met with nothing but glassy eyes and tear trails. your heart is slamming in your chest, tears falling from your eyes and you can't breathe.
"a-are you?" you ask, trying to keep your tone even although it comes out just as vulnerable as you feel. “h-happy. with her?”
richie freezes at your words, mouth slightly open and you watch a single tear course over his high cheekbones and down to his bottom lip as it shakes faintly. you curse yourself for the longing to feel those very lips against yours.
"i was." he whispers, voice shaking as he rubs his face with his hand under his glasses, the moisture of his fallen tears clinging from his long dark lashes onto his slender, shaking fingers. "and then - and then i lost you. and y'know, i got my girlfriend so i could distract myself, but she made me feel like absolute shit all the time and so i went and broke up with her, but -" he hiccups through his tears and you blink, biting your lip as tears cascade down your cheek in wet trails.
they broke up?
he broke up with her, and he's going through this breakup and trying to better himself after she tore him down and you've just been ignoring him - he thinks you don't care about him, that you don't love him. you start to cry harder. 
"-i thought she'd distract me from you. i-i'm sorry." he says, his voice muffled by his hands as they cover up his angelic face, his shoulders shaking as more tears fall. "i'm so sorry."he repeats. 
you see double for a second, completely shocked by his words as the breath leaves your lungs. he tried to distract himself from you... and he’s so hurt because of what you did. 
but finally, for the first time this whole damn day, you find the right words. "i-no, richie, i'm sorry, please - fuck." you break, letting out a sob as you rub your eyes furiously in search of any relief from the guilt ripping you in two. "i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm so sorry, i can't believe i did this, i didn't want to hurt you, i'm just so selfish." you babble, his sniffles making you open your eyes.
he looks so alone and so vulnerable as he hugs his arms around himself in search of comfort, tears still falling from his bright eyes and down his rosy cheeks. 
he looks devastatingly beautiful in the golden sunlight of the afternoon, a breeze ruffling his curls lightly. "just please, i can't - i can't deal with you hating me. please, please, please."
he's pleading with you and you think you may be sick from the guilt and sadness that envelopes you, so you spring forward and wrap your arms tightly around him. the force of your body pushes him against the side of his car and the way he clings back to you like you're the last thing holding him to earth just makes you cry even harder.
"i don't hate you, richie. i love you, i love you too much." you say, your body shaking as he just holds you tighter against him. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean any of it. you're right. i was just jealous... i'm so sorry. i was so jealous of her, i couldn't see you be with her." you mumble. "i'm so sorry."
richie pulls you back gently at your words, his eyes wide and wondering as you look at each other. "what?" he asks so innocently, his eyelashes wet and dark and his lips parted. 
you can count the freckles on his nose and cheeks, you're so close. you can feel his shuddering breath against your face as he huffs in a breath. your hands hold onto his shoulders and you decide to fuck it, you just have to tell him how sorry you are, to explain yourself.
"richie, i'm in love with you. and - and when you and her got together, it hurt so much, and i didn't want to deal with the fact that i couldn't have you, so i just ignored you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry." you say it quickly and in one breath, looking down at your shoes and how they point straight towards his.
"you're in... love with me?" he says weakly, sounding hopeful as you finally look back into his eyes guiltily. 
you laugh wetly, "of course i am, richie. how could i not fall head over heels for everything about you?"
he tears up again at your words, but this time it's accompanied by a beautiful smile and a light, wet laugh. he shakes his head, his arms circling your waist tighter as he presses his forehead against yours. your butterflies tickle your stomach at your proximity.
"fuck, y/n. i can't believe i spend my time trying to get my mind off you." he says and your breath hitches a bit. "do you have any idea how long i've been in love with you?" he asks quietly, and you let out another small laugh out of shock, but it's wet and gleeful.
"i'm sorry." you whisper, your finger curling around a strand of the dark hair on his head. he shakes his head, your noses rubbing slightly. "it's okay, y/n. i love you so much. please let me forgive you." he says, pulling a smile out of you that you don't think anybody else ever could. you nod shortly, looking into his eyes as one last tear falls. 
he kisses you tenderly then, taking your breath away.
richie fills up your every sense as he clings to you desperately, his lips salty from your combined tears and his arms strong. his tongue is gentle as it runs along your lips and enters your parted mouth, one of his hands sliding up to tilt your head up towards him. you're breathless because of him for the millionth time in your life and you decide kissing richie is the only thing you want to do forever. 
you pull away slowly, and as you lean back he presses a chaste second kiss to your lips, causing you to grin. 
you barely make eye contact as you pull apart and then you greedily pull him back to you, his lips finding yours yet again with a sweet, loving laugh.
"i love you too, rich." you mumble against his lips. he sighs almost dreamily as you pull back, biting your lip and laughing when he opens the passenger door, gesturing to it with a shy grin.
"now can i please buy you a burger?" he asks, almost bashfully, and your heart does somersaults. you nod and kiss him again, his hand falling to the small of your back, palm wide and fingers lower than you'd expected. he pulls away and his grin is loving, his eyes hooded in pride as you caress his cheek softly before you slide into the car seat.
he holds your hand the whole night and refuses to let go until you slip through your front door at near midnight, blushes on both of your cheeks and lips kiss-bruised.
the butterflies you feel as you fall asleep with a grin on your face are the exact same ones richie feels as his head finally hits the pillow, a giddy smile on his own face as he smiles to himself in the dark halfway across town.
tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx@brxken-heartsclub @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier   @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s  @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters
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slashscowboyboots · 4 years ago
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Happy Taco Truck: Some Fine Things (Part 3)
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Part 1 Part 2
This is the final installment, an early Christmas gift to my sis @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​!  Thank you so much for your feedback, it means everything
Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ @whisperess33​ @shawolat​ @80snikki​
Warnings: language, Axl is a brat, horny Izz, Slaxl takes a long time to marinate, Izzy is just too romantic
Notes:  this is my first try at slash fiction, so be gentle.  All credits to the songwriters, and the “Jose Cuervo” line is from the movie “DC Cab.” I would give just about everything to hear Izzy sing “Lodi”
“Can I help you?” your coworker asked.
You glanced over at him, tenderness unfurling in your heart.  After Skyler took off with James from “Hetfield & Grohl’s” to work the barbecue circuit, you’d been up shit creek until Steven recommended a guy he knew, and a curly-haired, soft-spoken guy who for some undeterminable reason went by the moniker “Slash” had turned up to work the window.
It was the first time in your life you’d met an individual even shyer than yourself.  Slash was easy-going and smart, and once you got to know him, incredibly funny, but inside his shell was where he was truly comfortable, and with the amount of assholes who demanded the impossible being the brunt of your customers, you wondered if he was going to last.
“Yeah, gimme a chicken taco.”  Speaking of assholes, here was Axl placing his usual order.  He had been really taking advantage of the discount you offered him, turning up several times a day to collect his free meals.  Izzy mentioned he’d been finding antacids stashed in the ice cream truck.
The heat inside the truck forced Slash to pull his gorgeous curls back in a ponytail, and his exposed eyes fell downwards.  “Sure.  I’ll have that right out,” he said in his quiet voice, then closed the hatch.
You dumped chicken on the flattop.  “Slash, hon, we can’t shut the window until we’re closed,” you gently reminded him, moving the seasoned meat around.
“I-I can’t talk to him,” he whispered, his soft eyes full of fear.
“Why not?  I mean, yeah, he can be a jerk sometimes, but-”, and it was at that moment you caught it.  You recognized that same desperate look.  You’d worn it yourself a little while ago, when you had been too shy to chat up Izzy.  How frightened you’d been of embarrassing yourself, only to find out that Izz lit up every time he looked at you, and was now completely incapable of keeping his wandering hands to himself.
“Oh, Slash,” you murmured, handing him the taco.  His hands were shaking too bad to add the crema, so you did it yourself, and he opened the hatch to an irate Axl.
“Here-here you go,” he said, and you hoped you were the only one who heard the waver in his voice.
“The hell’s wrong with you!  You can’t even talk to your customers?!”  Axl’s face was nearly as red as his hair as he screamed at Slash.
Slash’s mouth flew open in hurt, and you stepped up to the window.  “Axl, that was my fault.  I was showing Slash how to add the special sauce.  And that is a closely guarded secret,” you lied.  There were some days you really wanted to punch him in the mouth.  “And you will not speak to my assistant like that ever again.  You understand?”
Axl looked at you, then Slash.  “Hey, man, I’m sorry,” he said, and you nearly tumbled out the window in surprise.  Axl raised hell with everybody and everything, but you’d never heard him apologize before.
“S’okay,” Slash said, barely audible, looking down, and you wanted to put your arms around him and give him a comforting squeeze.
Axl opened his mouth to say something, then stuffed his taco in it and walked away.
“Why he took a job in customer service is beyond me,” you muttered, then patted Slash on the back.  “I’ve never heard him tell anyone he was sorry.  You must be special,” and Slash’s face lit up as he smiled.
And you knew you had a problem on your hands.
“Yoo hoo?  Where’s my beloved?  I got a bottle of Jose Cuervo and I brought my lucky rubber,” Izzy announced, climbing aboard your truck.
“I’m out here, Izz,” you called, slamming the lid down on the trash can.
He walked into your view and let out a loud whistle.  “Have I told you you get more beautiful every day?” he asked, pulling you to him for a kiss.
“Mmmm, hi, handsome,” you said against his mouth.  “You’re just the person I wanted to see.”
“And you’re just the person I wanted to see naked.”
“Izz!” you scolded.  “I actually need your help with something.”
“I can help you do that.  Over and over again.”
You playfully swatted him.  “It’s about Slash.” Izzy’s face grew serious.  “He didn’t quit, did he?  I mean, I can fill in for him again, but I’d need to lay down for like a week afterward.”
You shook your head.  “No, he didn’t quit.”  That week Izzy subbed at the Happy Taco window had left him scarred for life.  “He, uh, he has a crush.”
Izzy furrowed his eyebrows.
“On Axl.”
He blinked.  “And?”
“And I thought maybe you could help me play matchmaker.”
Izzy turned and pounded his head against the side of the truck.
“Honey,” you pleaded, “please.  He’s so shy I don’t think he has any idea how to approach him.”
“Babe, even if I wanted to do this, and I don’t, Axl has been acting so fucking weird lately there’s no way I could talk to him.”
“Weird?  What’s he doing?”
“Well, he comes over here for tacos all the time now, then when comes back, he plays all of his Elton John tapes at full blast.  Then he cleans the truck from top to bottom.  He’s even nice to the customers now.”
“But he came over here and yelled at Slash!”
His eyes met yours.  “What did Slash do to him?”
“He didn’t talk to him.”
Izzy was quiet for a moment.  “Y/N, I don’t think he’s coming over here for just tacos, although they are excellent.”
“See, they need our help.”
Izzy closed his eyes and beat his head against the truck again.  
“They just need a little nudge in the right direction.”
He wearily looked at you, and you put your hand on his cheek.  “Fine,” he rasped.  “Whatever.  But right now, I need to go in the right direction, and that direction is horizontal with you on top of me.���
“Slash, are you busy tonight?”
You honestly had no idea what Slash did on his nights off.  As soon as you closed the truck, he exchanged pleasantries with Izzy and hopped on his bike and pedaled away.  When you’d offered him an invitation to stay and meet the rest of the Circle, he mumbled something about feeding a snake and fled.
Tonight, you hoped he would have a change of heart.  After hours, you and Izzy usually got up to activities that did not require any participants, but he had talked Axl into a jam session, bringing along two guitars as well as a tambourine.
“I-I don’t have any plans,” he said quietly, gazing longingly out the window.  It was nearly time for Axl to fetch his dinner taco.
“There’s a jam over at the Frozen Delights truck after they close.”
Slash lit up, grinning wider than you had ever seen him, then his face fell.  “I didn’t bring my guitar.”
“Izzy brought two.  He’d like to hear you play.”  That was almost a lie.  Izzy wasn’t all that keen on a jam, preferring the two of you spending time alone, but when you whispered on his neck you’d make it up to him, his enthusiasm level picked up.
To your surprise, Slash’s cheeks flushed.  “I’d love to come,” then he stood up a little straighter and you saw Axl strutting up to the window.
“Hey, Slash,” he greeted him, and you stepped back into the shadows to give them a semblance of privacy.
“Hi.”
“Hey, you wanna come over tonight and play music with me and Izz?  He’s got an extra guitar.”
Slash beamed at him, then lowered his eyes.  “Sure.  So-sounds good.”
Axl smiled back, and you about fell over at the sight.  Too bad he didn’t do it more often, he was quite attractive when he stopped scowling.  He began to walk away, then backtracked.  “Hey,” he squinted up, “do you like barbecue?”
Slash blinked, then replied, “I love barbecue.”
Axl’s smile got even bigger.  “I’ll have some when you get there.”
After he left, Slash looked over at you with his mouth agape.
“Well, it sounds like you have a date,” you chuckled at him.  “Good thing he’s provided dinner.”
He tilted his head.  “Why?”
“I was going to suggest you bring over one of those homewrecker corn dogs and eat it in front of him,” you cackled.  “Izzy’s eyes nearly left his head when I did that.”
“Oh shit,” Slash breathed, laughing with you, then his eyes turned pleading.  “You’ll be there, won’t you, you and Izz?  You won’t leave me alone?”
Well, that had been the plan.  “Uhhh, sure, Slash.  We won’t leave you.”
After you locked up, you nearly had to drag a primping Slash down to the Frozen Delights truck, pecking Izzy on the lips when you arrived.  Axl had taken off to get dinner, so the three of you sat down and opened up beers while you awaited his return.
You watched Slash’s leg nervously bounce up and down, then Axl stood in front of him and handed him a takeout container.  
“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a sample platter,” he said, and you swore you heard a note of shyness in his voice.
Izzy cleared his throat, and Axl all but flung your containers at the two of you.  “Yeah, I got you the same,” he mumbled, jerking his lawn chair closer to Slash’s.
The four of you ate in silence, you silently thanking Kelly for his prowess with pork, working the meat off a rib and catching an ornery smile from Izzy.
Axl just picked at his platter, moving around his coleslaw and half heartedly munching on his brisket.  His eyes never left Slash, who looked down and gnawed on a rib.
Their awkwardness made you bite back a wince, then you snuck a glance at Izzy, who stabbed his pulled pork wearing expression that looked like he was in acute intestinal distress.  His eyes met yours, then he mouthed, “Kill me.”
“So, uh, Slash, how long have you played guitar?” you asked, dipping a slice of brisket into Kelly’s heavenly sauce.
He pulled on his beer.  “A few years.”
Izzy sat his container down and wiped his hands and face with a napkin.  “I’m ready to play if you are,” he barked, swiftly flicking open his guitar case.
Slash blinked, swallowing his pulled pork.  “Sure,” he said, wiping his hands and carefully picking Izzy’s other guitar up.
Izzy began the opening notes of “Midnight Rider,” Slash chiming in after a few bars, then Axl and Izzy began singing, “I’ve got to run to keep from hiding,” and you dropped a naked rib bone in shock.
They sounded incredible.
You watched them in awe, then Izzy nodded at you, and you began singing with them.  You’d actually done this before, sitting in with Izzy while he played guitar and Axl sang, but Slash was like the key that unlocked their greatness.
Axl and Slash exchanged grins, looking into each other’s eyes, then, wearing a happy smile, Izzy started singing one of his favorites, “Lodi.”
Slash strummed along, but Axl didn’t sing.  Instead, he watched Slash play, his fingers working up and down the neck of the guitar, his silver rings glinting in the moonlight, and a soft smile played on his lips.
He took a sip of beer when they finished, then said, “I have a song I’d like to sing.”
He moved closer to Slash, then pushed his curls out of his eyes and sang,
“Desperado
Why don’t you come to your senses
You’ve been out ridin fences for so long now”
Slash looked down, setting Izzy’s guitar in its case, then Axl tipped his chin up and continued,
“Oh, you’re a hard one
But I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasing you
Can hurt you somehow
Izzy silently packed away his guitar, then jerked his head towards Helen the Happy Taco truck.  You followed him, turning around to see Axl whisper,
“You better let somebody love you
Before it’s too late”
and press a kiss to Slash’s lips, then Slash put his arms around Axl’s neck and returned it.
“Thank God,” Izzy muttered.  “I’d rather fuck a bee’s nest than tag along on one of their dates again.”
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artificialqueens · 3 years ago
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Urgent Exit Required (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega
fic summary: "She’d always thought, really, how bad could a relationship between two colleagues ever be?
She supposes now, standing on the flyover with a rifle in her hand, she sees exactly why that rule is in place. Usually she has problems falling for straight girls, this time her error’s been falling for a bent one."
(In which Lawrence works in anti-corruption, and Ellie is the corrupt officer wrapped up in an organised crime gang.)
a/n: please in the name of Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the wee donkey, read the trigger warnings!!!!
this is a Line of Duty AU based entirely off of the final episode of season 3 because apparently i'm unable to consume any media without turning it into a fic! big big thanks to Juno who was chill about me posting this as she's also concieved of a Line of Duty AU that looks like it'll be AMAZING so keep an eye out for that!!
if you enjoyed then feel free to leave some love, even if it's just to scream at me xo
trigger warnings: because it's based off a gritty tv show, please be mindful that this fic features gun violence, injury and death (to be absolutely clear: one of them dies) so if you feel this fic is not for u then don't force it and please click off it!
if uv made it this far then pls enjoy this heavy slice of angst that has absolutely 0 grounding in reality whatsoever xo
***
Lawrence doesn’t think she’s ever been more aware of her heart than she is now.
She means that in every sense. Physically, it’s all she can feel; it’s swollen in her ribcage as it batters in her chest, working overtime to keep up with the adrenaline that’s coursing through her veins like a forest fire as she pounds across the dual carriageway, hurdles over the central reservation and sprints past cars as though they’re nothing less than flies that simply need swatted away. She’d normally conduct more of a mental risk-assessment before essentially playing professional chicken on a busy main road. She’d normally think through every move carefully; strategise, stack up the options, Sherlock in slow-motion. It’s what’s got her to where she is today, but today isn’t a normal day. And where she is now is on a road bridge, positioning an AR-15 onto a high railing so it looks down onto a near-silent residential street. The blood’s roaring in her ears and her mouth’s so dry that she can taste the inexplicable tang of metal and her heart , Jesus Christ she never knew it could beat this fast.
Lawrence has been in situations like this before. It’s not like she’s never held a gun; in anti-terror she’d become as desensitized to them as one human could be, and she’s come to regard them as a grim necessity to her job just like her badge, her lanyard, her pocketbook. As stress levels- adrenaline levels- go, she’s been exposed to her fair share. High speed chases, hurtling through the city in a Vauxhall with an ART on her way to arrest a potentially dangerous criminal. She’s been ambushed in a warehouse and tied to a chair and had her hand forced into a vice by a gang of men in balaclavas, and that still , as insane as it sounds, didn’t have her heart beating like it is just now.
Because this is all different. Because she knows it’s only a matter of time before that car appears, and she knows who’s travelling in the passenger seat.
She’s not religious, so she hopes instead of prays. For what, she doesn’t know.
For both of them to come out of this alive, perhaps.
***
It’s always strange to watch one of their own crack in the interview chair. The bravado they begin with, the smug cushioning of their own status within the ranks rendering them completely disbelieving of the idea they could ever be brought down.
Then comes the little telltale signs. The sipping of the water, the clearing of the throat. The slight pause that starts to come before their answers, on stage in the middle of the dress run forgetting their script and the only lines they’ll be fed are the standard infuriating “no comment”. And then comes the shattering of the glass. When the three of them kick down the sandcastle and watch it crumble and whichever bent bastard they’re charging this time leaves with their tail between their legs and metal around their wrists.
Except it’s not the three of them. It’s just Superintendent Black and DC Chaney. Because DS Boyle (Aurora), her colleague (her friend), is being held in a cell. Framed for the armed robbery she hasn’t organised, framed for the attempted murder of a woman Lawrence knows she’d never even so much as say a bad word about, let alone lay a hand on. The fake number plates on her car, the drug money banknotes found in the boot.
Things that Lawrence would never in her wildest nightmares have considered Ellie Diamond to be capable of orchestrating. Things that don’t match up with the Ellie who bought her coffee and left it on her desk in time for her starting work. The Ellie that wrote shite jokes on pink post-its and stuck them to her monitor (What do you call a happy penguin? A pen-grin). The Ellie that held her close and whispered condolences and apologies and words of comfort after they’d interviewed and arrested Aurora.
Lawrence has tried to separate the two in her mind, but she knows she can’t. She knows that the Ellie she’s come to know and the Ellie that’s done all these things are one and the same, and that’s still something she’s trying to wrap her brain around. But she’s in the chair in front of her in a muted baby pink suit, the colour clashing so violently with the matter at hand, with her solicitor and a glass of water and her pink acrylics tapping against the table, and she’s cracking just like they always do. The evidence against her is piling up, and suddenly she is just another criminal.
Joe leans forward against the desk, eyes narrowing. “DI Diamond, I think we have earned the right to ask you the question...will you kindly tell us your whereabouts between ten and eleven am on the morning of the fifteenth?”
The morning that Tayce Szura-Radix was struck by Aurora’s car in a brutal hit-and-run. The morning Tayce had thought she was about to meet Aurora. The morning that Tayce emailed Joe a list of names linked to the OCG. They all know it wasn’t a coincidence.
The morning that confirmed all of Lawrence’s worst fears.
Ellie holds Joe’s gaze, the stubborn glint in her eyes contrasting with the tense energy she’s emanating from every pore. There’s a silence before she answers in which Lawrence holds her breath.
“I don’t think I need to answer that question.”
The urge Lawrence fights to roll her eyes is a battle between David and Goliath.
“Don’t you?” Joe smiles patiently at her, blinks calmly in an almost reptilian way. Joe knows they’ve not played their ace yet, and the pair of them have got all the time in the world.
(Well, they don’t. They’ve got an hour until Aurora is either charged or released, and it’s looking like it’ll be the former. Lawrence can’t let that happen, even if it is Ellie in the chair opposite her.)
“It’s a voluntary interview,” Ellie explains. Her voice is fast and breathy as she speaks again, almost choked with nerves. “And I’m only here because it’s my lawful duty as a police officer to assist in a criminal enquiry.”
“Of course, DI Diamond, of course you are,” Joe nods, calm and placating. “In fact, we can stop this interview right now if you like, but of course it would leave this question hanging over you, hanging over your career. Or you could do the honourable thing and offer us an answer. Exclude yourself from our enquiries. That’s assuming you have nothing to hide.”
Ellie looks down at the table, frozen for a moment in time. She looks to her solicitor as if he’s the last liferaft off the Titanic, leans over to him for advice. What she receives doesn’t even seem as if it’s the equivalent of a rubber duck from the way she reaches across for her glass of water again, sips for a second, clears her throat.
As she leans back in her chair and folds her arms, Lawrence finds herself wondering if Ellie’s ever played poker. She hopes she hasn’t, for her dignity’s sake if nothing else.
“I was at my flat,” she says quickly, as if she’s trying to make up for the time she’s spent in silence. “I was on surveillance until late the night before, and I slept late.”
Lawrence’s heart jumps as Joe continues questioning.
“So you were in during those hours.”
Ellie nods quickly. “Yes.”
Lawrence can’t help herself. She’s bitten her tongue through most of the interview, not trusting herself to speak. Silence is a virtue she rarely possesses, and somehow she’s managed to keep her resolve til now. But whatever Ellie was to her before, whatever her feelings were (are?), she’s still a detective that’s being handed an opportunity to catch a criminal on a silver platter.
“Say that again,” Lawrence says, calm but insistent. When Ellie’s gaze is ripped from Joe to fall onto her, Lawrence can’t read her expression. Her mouth moves slightly as if she’s about to speak, then clearly elects not to.
Lawrence keeps her own face blank as she continues, no telltale signs of her broken heart on display. “You’ve just said you were in your flat between ten and eleven am on the fifteenth. We’ve got that on tape.”
Ellie’s eyes dart between Lawrence and Joe. “Wh…”
Joe, for her part, is still fixing Ellie with that patient expression. “It’s a very simple matter, DI Diamond-”
“No, no. DI Diamond’s already answered the question,” Lawrence interrupts, leaning forward against the desk. She selfishly allows an angry glint to appear in her eye, one that sets off a flicker of fear in Ellie’s in turn. “Haven’t you?”
Ellie’s like a statue as she stares at Lawrence, unable to answer. The only sign she’s still sentient is her sporadic blinking with her long lash extensions that Lawrence examines every detail of as she continues to stare at her. Eyes that Lawrence had once looked into and felt butterflies that now only turn her stomach in the worst of ways.
“You’ve mentioned, when questioned, something you later intend to rely on. In court,” Lawrence states, the ‘t’ of ‘court’ bouncing through gritted teeth and making Ellie’s gaze dart back to Joe, clearly a less threatening option.
There’s a silence where Ellie sits, slack-jawed and cornered, before she shakes her head, rubbing her perfectly made up face with her hands quickly. “No, look...I might have made a mistake, just...give me a second to think.”
“Take your time, DI Diamond,” Joe says, humouring her. They both know there’s no hope for Ellie to pull an alibi out of her ass at this stage of the game.
“I’d been up late, so I…” Ellie stammers.
Even after everything, Lawrence still fights the urge to feel sorry for her.
There’s a moment where Ellie freezes for a second, then looks to Joe with what appears to be renewed confidence. She reaches into the inside pocket of her suit jacket, pulls out her phone.
Lawrence narrows her eyes, question marks immediately appearing in her mind.
“If I just check my phone...you know, times of texts I sent and that. That’ll probably help me remember…” Ellie mutters, looking down into the screen.
She keeps staring at it. Her finger is poised over something, something she’s waiting to press. Something she’s waiting to send? Immediately there’s a red flag wrapped around Lawrence’s thoughts.
Ellie’s eyes are stuck to her phone as she opens her mouth again.
“You wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t have gone into my flat that morning, Lawrence?”
The red flag is joined by alarm bells. She knows. She knows that Lawrence knows that she wasn’t in her flat that morning. Lawrence can see Joe look to her, but she’s not answering. Instead, she’s got her eyes on that phone just as much as Ellie. Watching. Waiting.
And then Ellie’s finger hits the screen and she looks up at Lawrence. There’s an assurance to her gaze that Lawrence doesn’t like. “Like...alone?”
Lawrence isn’t answering her. She doesn’t owe her anything. They’re staring at each other- no warmth, just steel- and it’s so intense that Lawrence almost doesn’t hear anything.
But then there’s the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking outside that cuts through the silence. The starting pistol for all hell breaking loose.
***
Lawrence supposes a lot can happen in a minute. She rests the rifle against the railing of the bridge, flicks the safety off with her thumb and holds her breath as she waits for the blacked-out Range Rover to appear from its hiding place within the identical red brick houses. She wonders how she'll live with herself if her shot hits Ellie. She's a good aim, but she's not that good. Regardless, if the car appears she's taking the shot, decision-making process be damned.
She also supposes a lot can happen in a year. Ellie's transfer from the AC-9 Witness Protection Department to AC-12 in order for her to help aid the investigation into the ambush of former DI Tayce Szura-Radix was an unwelcome one at first. It had always been Lawrence, Joe and Aurora, the dream team with insurmountable trust in each other. A new girl from outside that circle wasn't exactly going to assimilate well into that, no matter how cheerful or friendly she was.
Or how beautiful.
But, little by little, Ellie fell in with the department as naturally as the seasons changed. The more interviews Lawrence conducted with Ellie she got to see how sympathetic she could be towards victims and indeed how steadfast and unforgiving she could be with witnesses. The more time Lawrence worked with Ellie she got to see how efficient she was, the quick turnaround on any of her tasks and the way she followed up enquiries like a dog with a scent easily impressing her. The more late-night surveillance ops they spent together Lawrence got to find out how funny Ellie was, the other girl making her snort with hysterical laughter as they played silly games of snog, marry, avoid in the lull between any suspicious activity.
The thing is, there’s only so much time someone can spend with a girl like Ellie before they start to fall for her. At least that’s Lawrence’s theory, although maybe she’s just talking from experience. As much as she’s committed to her career and as much as she wants to rise through the ranks (and yeah, she’s earned the right to boast about how much she’s achieved so young), she’s still a lesbian in her twenties who’s never had a girlfriend. Okay, she’d never do what Aurora did and spark up something with a witness and disgraced corrupt officer, even though she supposes it doesn’t matter now that poor Tayce is fighting for her life in a hospital bed, God love her. But she’d always thought, really, how bad could a relationship between two colleagues ever be?
She supposes now, standing on the flyover with a rifle in her hand, she sees exactly why that rule is in place. Usually she has problems falling for straight girls, this time her error’s been falling for a bent one.
It hurts to remember. As much as those memories of falling for Ellie make her happy, they’re tainted now. Knowing the girl she’s fallen for could’ve ended someone else’s life. Knowing how much she’s wrapped up in armed robberies, drug trafficking, organised crime. But there’s still the ridiculous part of Lawrence that screams, she’s just a pawn. She’s not to blame. She’s small fry, and there’s bigger fish out there.
Fighting past those thoughts and digging deep, Lawrence narrows her eyes at the street below her and curls her finger around the trigger. A lot can happen in a minute. A lot of memories can fly through her head.
***
It all happens so fast. One guard turning his firearm on another outside the interview room and then shooting through the glass walls, the gunshots loud and pummeling Lawrence’s ears as she ducks down under the desk. When they stop, she can only look up to see Ellie sprinting over the carpet of broken glass, running across the office with the guard following behind her. Not in pursuit. As protection.
Lawrence doesn’t think. She dashes up from behind the desk, snatches up the assault rifle from beside the guard who’s bleeding out on the ground and sprints after Ellie, only stopping to snatch up her tactical vest and shrug it on whilst she’s running.
She is not letting her get away.
As she leaves, Lawrence can hear Joe shouting; ordering someone to CPR the wounded guard, to lock down the building. When Lawrence reaches the balcony of the atrium just before she takes the stairs, she can see Ellie hurtling through the main doors, the police officer following behind her pointing his gun at anyone in their way.
She can’t believe Ellie’s wrapped up in all this. Still, that’s the nature of the job. Sometimes it’s the ones that were blatantly bent from the start, sometimes it’s the ones you’d never expect. Sometimes it’s the girls who wear the diamante hair clips and sing along to the radio in the office and squeeze your hand with a gentle smile when you’re tired and flagging. Life’s not like the kids’ movies Ellie loves so much, the bad guys aren’t always clear cut. Although she supposes Ellie’s the perfect modern-day Disney twist-villain if ever there was one.
As Lawrence runs out into the street her heart sinks to find that Ellie and the guard are already a fair distance down the road, their guns ensuring that shocked passers-by leap out of their way quickly. She doesn't think she's going to be able to catch them on foot, and her mind makes the risk assessment of trying to shoot at them in such a public setting.
The truck that's fast approaching on the road makes the decision for her.
Lawrence runs out into the street, wielding her badge (as if the driver can see it from high up in his cab) but luckily the truck stops anyway, and she hoists herself up to cling to the side door, commands the driver to follow Ellie and the guard as fast as he can and not to stop.
The driver obeys and Lawrence shouts directions at him through the window as Ellie frantically pounds the pavements in the rapidly decreasing distance. The lorry keeps up well thanks to the lack of traffic lights on the road, and Lawrence eventually hops off as Ellie sprints down a pedestrianised side street with the guard at her tail.
Lawrence narrows her eyes, aims…
And then a family steps into her path. Dad, Mum, boy, girl. Perfect little nuclear setup smack bang in front of her target line. Lawrence curses loudly, sprints past them and down the scrub of industrial wasteland parallel to the one Ellie disappeared down with the guard. With a pang to her heart, Lawrence considers the barren dirt that frames the path and the washed-out colours that surround her. Old warehouses and scrap metal and the brown of old grass. Insipid and sepia and so Not Ellie.
She skids to a halt, though, when she sees two figures running across the way; baby pink suit, firearms uniform. They’ve slowed to a jog now, it’s no longer the fast-paced marathon it was before. Lawrence takes advantage of their unsuspecting position, and she cocks her gun as she shouts from the distance between them.
“Armed police!”
Both of them whip their heads round as they freeze in fear, and as the guard aims his own gun Lawrence fires two shots towards him in panic. She knows any injury (or death, God forbid) would be lawful, but it never makes it any easier. The guard falls to the ground, disarmed and no longer a threat.
And then it’s just her and Ellie.
Ellie’s got her glock trained on Lawrence as she stands rooted to the spot, blinking at her with those huge lashes and breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide and frantic, panicked. She shouldn’t be in charge of a gun.
“Drop your weapon!” Lawrence shouts, adjusting the gun for emphasis.
“Drop yours!” Ellie retorts childishly, not backing down in any sense. It’s fitting, Lawrence supposes, that they’re still bickering to the bitter end.
They could both fire at each other. Well, Ellie could fire at her. But as Lawrence keeps her aim steady, Ellie suddenly drops her arm to her side, sprints off as fast as she’s able down the alley again. Lawrence could shoot her like she did the guard. But the evidence Ellie can give is too valuable, too precious. She needs her alive.
And as Lawrence runs after her in pursuit, she pretends that’s the only reason she’s sparing her.
***
Selfishly, Lawrence allows herself to think about what could’ve been. She still judges herself heavily for how much she thinks about that night; the night of Ellie’s commendation award, when Ellie had been tipsy off free champagne and Lawrence had been drunk off just walking her home, the pair of them sharing a styrofoam carton of chips with their arms linked together. Ellie had been wearing this mid-length silver dress that seemed to drip with little jewels, and the way she sparkled under the streetlights had matched the stars in the sky and the twinkle in her eyes as she agreed with Lawrence about how these didn’t compare to the chips in Scotland.
As the empty carton was chucked in a bin, Ellie had begun to chat about how much she missed her home city. She told Lawrence about how she’d always dreamt of opening a hair and beauty salon on the high street in Dundee, or maybe even moving to Glasgow and opening it there. Her lips had taken on a dreamy, wistful smile as she spoke about how she’d wanted to paint the outside pink and have hanging baskets with plastic flowers hanging over the windows. How she’d keep glass jars full of sweets on top of the desk and a gingham-patterned feature wall where she’d take pictures of her clients’ hair for Instagram.
“And then I became a police officer,” Ellie had laughed humourlessly, and Lawrence hadn’t missed the disappointment in her tone. It had been Ellie’s big night, a highlight of her career. A commendation for defending herself alone against a member of the OCG with a firearm.
(Lawrence now knows that the situation had been manipulated to fit Ellie’s agenda and that self-defence couldn’t have been further from the truth.)
But it didn’t make sense that Ellie had been so hung up on this pipe dream of owning a hair salon.
“So why didn’t you?” Lawrence had tilted her head, struck by the beauty of the girl by her side all over again.
Ellie had turned to blink in confusion at her, Lawrence immediately snapping her gaze to the pavement in a show of uncharacteristic shyness. “Why didn’t I what?”
Lawrence had laughed, unable to resist the urge to poke fun at her friend-slash-colleague-slash-crush. “You are a fuckin’ goldfish! Three-second memory! Why didn’t you open the salon? Y’know. What made you join the force instead?”
When Lawrence looked at Ellie again, there’d been a frown making furrows between her perfectly carved-out eyebrows. There was a pause as their heels continued to clack against the concrete paving slabs of the street, a pause filled with words Ellie hadn’t seemed to be able to say.
“Sometimes life just has different plans for you, I guess.”
Something in her answer had troubled Lawrence but, as ever, she deflected with a joke. The night had been so perfect, and she hadn’t wanted to shatter the unspoiled crystal moment just yet.
“What a classic fuckin’ Ellie Diamond answer. No grand speeches about wanting to protect the vulnerable, no humble brags about wanting to help people, no Miss World speech about preserving life. Just life having other plans. Like your whole career’s been an inconvenience in the way of you getting to play hair salons with people like they’re fuckin’ Barbie dolls.”
Ellie had snorted a giggle, shaking her head as she brought her other arm up to rest in the crook of Lawrence’s elbow. “Playing with Barbie dolls. Girl, I am the Barbie doll!”
Lawrence had laughed along, the smile still on her face as she spoke again. “Nah. She’s plastic and out of proportion. You’re far too pretty to be her.”
“Jesus,” Ellie had muttered, the ghost of a smile still there on her lips. “An actual compliment from DC Chaney. Fuck a commendation, that’s the highlight of the night. Maybe I can take early retirement.”
Lawrence’s heart had fluttered as she’d looked at Ellie with a smirk. “Quite frankly flattered to know a compliment from me means so fuckin’ much to you.”
Ellie had only returned her smirk, a brazen glint in her eye that turned Lawrence’s insides to butter. “Too right, hen.”
Something electric had begun to charge between them from there, something magic and organic and real. Lawrence has spent a lot of time since she discovered Ellie’s involvement in the OCG trying to figure out what between them had been real, and she still argues in favour of the authenticity of that moment. The memory of reaching Ellie’s door and standing beside her as she fumbled under the mat for her spare key (having lost her original somewhere in her clutch bag) is so searing that it almost throws off Lawrence’s concentration. She grits her teeth, trying to ground herself as she adjusts her aim so that it’s right in the middle of the road. Any second now…
But the way Ellie had looked at her from under her lashes with a coy smile on her face when Lawrence had asked her if she’d had a good night still remains branded in her mind.
“I mean, apart from the fact I had to spend it with you,” she’d teased, laughing as Lawrence’s mouth had dropped open in outrage. “...yeah. I had a good night.”
“Stop talking shite. I was the highlight of your evening,” Lawrence had poked her in the arm, stupidly delighting in the way Ellie giggled in response.
“Yeah, a chippy in the middle of the street! You really know how to charm a lady. Remind me why you’re single?” Ellie had joked, Lawrence choosing to roll her eyes dramatically instead of growing offended.
“Ellie Diamond, a lady? That’ll be right,” Lawrence had snorted, only prompting Ellie’s grin to grow bigger. “And I’m single by choice, I’ll have you know. Obviously I’ve got lassies throwing themselves at my feet, but none of them meet my outrageously high standards.”
Ellie had giggled, but her laugh had faltered as she’d met Lawrence’s eyes. There’d been something unsure in them, something nervous, but even looking back Lawrence is sure they’d held a certain amount of honesty that couldn’t have been acting.
“I know you’re taking the piss, but honestly…” Ellie had said quietly, breaking eye contact to look down at the ground and the glittery silver heels on her feet. “...I don’t know how you’ve not got girls falling over themselves to be with you. Because, well. Fuckin’ look at you.”
The butterflies in Lawrence’s stomach had sprung to life so hard she’d felt ever-so-slightly ill. Deflecting, she’d shaken her head in self-pity. “Aye, right. Think it’s looking at me that’s causing the problems, doll.”
“Fuck off , Lawrence. Have you seen yourself tonight?” Ellie had laughed breathlessly. Lawrence can still remember how close they’d been, how little distance there was between them.
“Unfortunately.”
Ellie had shaken her head in disbelief, and when she’d moved to take Lawrence’s hands in her own Lawrence still swears the world had stopped turning on its axis. “Oh my God, shut up.”
Maybe that had been another time Lawrence had been so aware of her heart, the way it had thumped violently in her chest in a way that made it seem it was about to give out. She couldn’t stop the way she’d flicked her gaze down to Ellie’s lips for a split-second even if she’d wanted to.
“You gonny make me?”
And just like that Ellie had leaned in and kissed her outside her door in the pitch dark with only the streetlamps to illuminate them, a scene from a movie that Lawrence had always thought only happened to other people. The kiss hadn’t felt fake; the way Ellie had dropped one of Lawrence’s hands to cup her cheek and the intensity after the split-second of initial hesitation had only driven home how much it had seemed to mean to Ellie. How much Lawrence seemed to mean to Ellie.
Lawrence wonders if that’s still true.
Lawrence had known she should’ve pulled away sooner. She knows it would’ve helped maintain the illusion of professionalism, the illusion that the kiss had somehow been a mistake. But the smoke had been cleared and the mirror had been shattered (and Lawrence supposes now she’s got the bad luck to show for it) and she’d kissed back, matched the other girl’s longing because Christ knew she’d wanted the same thing for months.
She’d made sure to pull away first, though, and at least that had been something she’d done right, but the way Ellie had smiled sheepishly at her and loosened her grip on her hand only made Lawrence want to take it all back, hit pause instead of stop and lean in to meet her lips again.
“Sorry,” Lawrence had said, before trying not to pull a face because, Jesus Cartwheeling Christ, Chaney, apologising to the girl right after you kiss her? Nae fuckin’ wonder you’re single.
Ellie, in fairness, had shaken her head. “No, you’re fine. I’m sorry, I know how seriously you take all the regs and stuff-”
“Yeah,” Lawrence had agreed, regret coating her words. “But, y’know, we can...we can see what happens. Who’s to say further down the line…”
“Sure, sure,” Ellie had nodded, smiling as she turned back to her front door, turning the key in the lock and pushing it open ever-so-slightly. “Well. Thanks. For walking me home. And, uh. I’ll see you at work, I guess?”
“Yeah,” Lawrence had nodded, looking from the ground and back to Ellie.
It must have been the way they were looking at each other that had made Ellie begin to lean in again but Lawrence, in all her ridiculous, law-abiding glory, had stepped back awkwardly, not trusting herself to meet Ellie’s lips again only because she knew that once she started kissing her she’d never be able to break away. They’d blushed awkwardly at each other, and as Ellie pushed her front door she smiled gently.
“I do really like you, Lawrence.”
Lawrence hadn’t been able to trust herself to speak in case she said something she’d regret. Instead she’d smiled bashfully at her shoes before Ellie finally said a quiet goodnight, and then Lawrence had disappeared down the road to hail a cab, not daring to turn back and look at Ellie’s door.
She wonders if Ellie meant any of it. Felt any of it at all. If it was all just a plot to get the sad, fat wee lesbian onside, to try and get her into bed so the stupid cow would fall in love with her and tell her all the department’s secrets. She wonders if Ellie closed the door behind her that night and laughed at how simple it had been, made some calls to whoever low-life she reports to and had a good giggle about how easy it was to wrap her round her finger.
But then under the bridge not even two minutes ago…
Well. Ellie had still got in that car and sped away.
Lawrence’s arm is stinging in pain but before she can dwell on it, something enters her line of vision. A blacked-out Range Rover making its way across the road she’s pointing the rifle at.
Her finger is pulling the trigger before she can even pray the bullet doesn’t hit Ellie, and in the distance the car swerves out of control and out of her sight.
***
The first thing Lawrence sees when she rounds the corner is Ellie. Middle of the road, under the bridge, houses on either side. Her blonde hair in her face, mouth slack as she breaths frantically. She’s scrabbling at the screen of her phone with one hand- of course she’s impeded by those fucking pink acrylics- while the other is curled around the glock at her side. Lawrence knows she writes with her right hand. She’s chosen it to send the text, meaning the gun’s in her non-dominant hand.
Lawrence throws all hope of strategic thinking out the window as she skids to a halt, points her own gun at Ellie, and all of a sudden she’s shouting across at her.
“Drop your gun, drop your phone!”
She’s only managed to get two words out when Ellie’s arms switch position and the gun is suddenly trained on her. Her blue eyes are wide and panicked, but her arm’s straight. Steady. The distance between them is metres and yet it seems like nothing at all.
“Lawrence,” she says, her voice flimsy and paper thin and without any conviction. It makes Lawrence’s heart want to crack in two, but it’s past that. It’s already broken, as is her trust.
“They’re not here for you then,” Lawrence sneers, casting a glance down the empty road.
“Not yet,” Ellie scowls, a fresh sense of confidence to her words. “But they will be. So you should run while you still can.”
“I am too fuckin’ shattered to run, drop the gun!” Lawrence insists with a yell, keeping her aim steady despite her heavy breathing.
Ellie’s still got the glock trained on her, but her eyes are filled with something that doesn’t match the hardened criminal image Lawrence has to acquaint herself with. It’s something akin to betrayal, and Lawrence would snort at the audacity if the situation wasn’t so tense.
“You went into my flat that morning. You saw I wasn’t there.”
Lawrence pauses, shrugs slightly. “Not like I needed a battering ram, I knew where you kept the spare key.”
Ellie seems to remember that night as well, judging from the way her stony expression falters and the betrayal on her face only becomes more apparent. “When did you know? About me.”
Lawrence refuses to crack under the kicked puppy expression Ellie’s choosing to deploy. Instead she only hitches her rifle so it’s steady in her grip. “A lady never tells.”
Ellie gives a single snort, regret painted on her face like her perfect makeup. There’s a smirk on her lips and a slight sadness to her gaze as she speaks again. “Well now I see why we never slept together.”
If she wanted to hit Lawrence where it hurts, she’s succeeded. Lawrence pauses before weighing up her tactics, willing that Ellie’s feelings for her were real enough for her own words to touch a nerve.
“Wasn’t that I didn’t want to.”
Ellie falters. The gun’s limp in her hand now, and she takes a few steps towards her before seemingly remembering they’re both holding firearms. “Look, please. Just go before they get here.”
“I get it,” Lawrence disregards her, keeps her talking until the ART (where the fuck is the ART?) can get here before Ellie’s guys can. “Frame Aurora Boyle as the bent copper, as the one who pulled the hit and run on Tayce. She goes down and you can retire at the tender age of...thirteen and three quarters, Adrian fucking Mole. With the emphasis on mole.”
“I'm not bent!” Ellie protests in anguish, beginning to grow visibly upset. She’s cracking just like she’d done in the interview room, only this time it’s ten times harder to watch. “Tayce Szura-Radix was...I had to, she was going to leak the list of names and I...I couldn’t let her do that. It was going to be bribery originally, but then they told me to get rid of her and-”
“And she still managed to hit send on the fuckin’ email before you hit her with the car. So how did that work out for you?” Lawrence bites back bitterly. Ellie squeezes her eyes shut, her arm lowers ever so slightly. It’s the picture of a girl who’s too wrapped up in a world she knows so little about, a kid in the deep end with no armbands. She regrets hitting Tayce. Lawrence can see that.
“They picked you out,” Lawrence continues. “Made you feel special, made you feel clever, guided your career. I know what it’s like, Ellie, we're young, this is a tough fucking game. But you know everything. You really think they’re going to let you just stop, let you go have your wee happily-ever-after fairytale ending?”
“Lawrence, I know what I’m doing,” Ellie sniffs, switches the arm that’s holding the gun and aims it steadily at her with only the slightest tremble.
“Bimini,” Lawrence says simply, and Ellie’s face flinches in recognition. “They’re saying they’re going to get off their charges. You know names, dates, places. You know as well as I do they’re not at the top of that fucking tree. We’re so close to cracking this whole OCG. Money laundering, drug trafficking, more armed robberies.”
Ellie is faltering. Her eyes dart down the road behind Lawrence and when there’s no relief to her expression, Lawrence continues.
“You were just a kid. They picked you up off a Dundee scheme, got you into the force and then you had access to operations, evidence rooms, kilos and kilos of currency that can get used to frame people, blackmail people, get them off the hook and make them money. Ellie, do you honestly think you were the only teenager they’ve trained up? You know how wide-reaching this is. How many other kids lives’ have they ruined? How many other dreams have they thrown on the scrapheap? How many other wee girls aren’t ever gonny get their hair salon?”
Ellie’s expression is blank, supposedly steadfast apart from the tears that’re making tracks down each cheek. Lawrence can feel the lump in her own throat before she swallows it, narrowing her eyes to stop the tears that are threatening to spring up in them.
She’s part of the OCG. She’s corrupt. Her actions have resulted in lost lives.
And yet she’s not a killer. She’s in too deep and she’s drowning. She deserves a second chance.
“Do the right thing,” Lawrence pleads, having to readjust her own gun as she realises she’s lowered it while she’s been talking. “Tell us everything you know. Confess.”
There’s a flicker in Ellie’s eyes that makes Lawrence think perhaps this is it. She’ll put the gun down and run away with her, back to AC-12 and then to a protected witness safehouse and maybe Lawrence can still visit her, maybe they’ll work something out.
And then there’s a screeching of brakes and tyres behind her, and before Lawrence can turn around she’s struck to the ground, the side of an ugly blacked-out Range Rover scraping her left arm. Lawrence can hear herself groan in pain, couldn’t prevent her own cries even if she wanted to because fucking Jesus she’s hurt, and as the car screeches to a halt she’s willing herself with every fibre of her being to get up, catch the fuckers because she can’t let them away with this.
She can’t let them away with what they’ve turned Ellie into.
As she rolls over onto her side, though, the sight that’s in front of her is strange. The car hasn’t yet sped away, and Ellie doesn’t appear to be in a rush. Instead she’s rooted to the spot, staring at Lawrence with her jaw slack and helplessness smacked across her face.
They lock eyes, and Lawrence knows she wants to help her.
Then something takes over; whether it’s a realisation that she can’t help her or a change of heart, Lawrence doesn’t know, but suddenly Ellie’s wrenching open the side door and scrambling into the back seat, and the accelerator is getting slammed as the car drives away in too low of a gear.
Lawrence looks at the bridge she’s just run down the stairs from and knows that this isn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
***
She’s audibly gasping. How pathetic. Countless years in the police service, the exertion she’s had to go through in fitness training, and yet this is the thing that’s got her the most out of breath in her whole career.
Sprinting down to an OCG car to see if she’s killed the criminal she’s fallen in love with.
The Range Rover has crashed into a parked Citroen, and there’s a car alarm piercing through the air as Lawrence runs up to the scene. Which car it belongs to, Lawrence doesn’t know. She supposes it doesn’t matter. There’s smoke pouring out of one of the vehicles under the bonnet which makes her panic, wonder if suddenly one of them is about to burst into flames action-movie style. She supposes the last hour couldn’t be much more beyond parody if it tried.
The doors to the Range Rover are closed. That is until Lawrence runs up parallel to the vehicle and the passenger door swings open, Ellie falling out of it with a pained grunt, bent double with her palms against the ground. There’s a nasty cut on her head that blood is already pouring out of, but Lawrence knows it’s not a gunshot wound. That seems to have been reserved for the driver of the car, and Lawrence is grateful with every embryo she possesses that Ellie wasn’t the target.
Even in Ellie’s shaken state she’s still holding her glock, so Lawrence keeps her rifle trained on her as Ellie aims messily, sways from left to right a little like she’s drunk. Even though Lawrence wants nothing more than to just drop her weapon and wrap Ellie in a hug. To tell her it’s over now, that she’ll be okay. Protected, safe.
Although the illusion that she could be any of those things is beginning to crumble to the ground as the gravity of the situation hits Lawrence like a freight train.
“Ellie, drop the gun. Put it down,” Lawrence commands from behind the gun.
Ellie disobeys her, stubborn til the bitter end. They look at each other, their gazes challenging but holding an equal amount of hurt and regret. As Ellie stumbles towards her and lowers her weapon, Lawrence in turn lowers hers. She’s giving nothing away on her expression, but the action lifts Lawrence’s heart. As she catches her breath her heart is in her mouth, wondering if Ellie’s going to drop the gun, if she’ll say something, if she realises this whole mess could be over if she just-
Click.
Lawrence’s face drops as she seems to take in what’s happening at a thousand miles an hour. The passenger seat of the Range Rover, a man in a helmet with the visor up aiming a rifle straight at her. This is it. Ellie was just a decoy to distract Lawrence long enough to be offered up like a lamb to slaughter. The dread and panic and sheer realisation that her life’s about to be ended by a round of bullets grips Lawrence to the point of paralysis.
And then she sees Ellie’s head turn, and where once before everything was fast, events suddenly slow to half speed.
There’s a raw, visceral, almost animalistic “ NO!” that’s ripped from Ellie as she steps in front of Lawrence, and then the BANGBANG, BANG of three bullets that fire through Ellie’s body before she falls to the ground. Without any prior thought and as though her body is being controlled for her, Lawrence aims her gun at the man who’s just killed the girl she loves and fires three right back, only satisfied when his helmet thrashes against the passenger window in defeat.
Lawrence’s face contorts into one of horror and disbelief as police sirens enter her consciousness, and the ART arrives. She stumbles a little on the spot as firearms officers spill out of the van and aim at her. Her voice shakes as she produces her badge.
“I’m AC-12!” she yells over to them, her words cracking as she lowers her weapon and finally, finally rests it on the ground. “I’m AC-12.”
She can barely stand to look at Ellie, but she does. Her body isn’t horrifically mangled or contorted; there’s just three red circles that’re bleeding through her baby pink suit and crisp white shirt. Her eyes have fluttered half-closed, and Lawrence’s heart shatters at the thought of never getting to see that blue again.
She races to her side, presses two fingers against her neck. She’s no paramedic, but she thinks there’s a faint pulse.
And then Ellie’s lips are moving.
“Lawrence,” she whispers near-silently, and Lawrence kneels down next to her, brings her face close.
“It’s me. It’s me, Ellie.”
Ellie takes a heavy, laboured breath. “...’m sorry.”
“It’s...it’s okay, you’re safe now. You can get to hospital and we can get you a safehouse and you can help us and we’ll help you. And we can…” Lawrence takes a second to breathe, swallowing her tears as she fights the helpless feeling that all her hopes are dying in front of her. “...we can be happy, the pair of us. I mean you canny fuckin’ die on me, you bitch, eh?”
Ellie takes another shaky breath in, not a single trace of any emotion apart from a dying light on her face as she speaks. Her eyes seem to shut further. “Loz, look at me. I’m fucked.”
Lawrence feels her face fall and her heart drop. “No, Ellie…”
“Declaration,” Ellie says quietly, and like an obedient fool Lawrence just nods, fishes her phone from the pocket of her vest.
“Get away from her!” one of the firearms officers yells at her; cold, professional. Lawrence supposes they’d never understand.
“I’m taking her dying declaration, for fuck’s sake, Sargeant, you will stand down!” she shoots back. She turns all her attentions to Ellie now, and her heart hurts and her chest aches and she’s forcing herself to look at her painted face and the wings of her eyeliner and every little lash that frames her eyes and the pink of her lips and not the ugly, leaking holes in her body because Ellie isn’t ugly, not a single part of her.
Lawrence is ashamed to admit it, but she still loves her for everything she is.
And as if she reads her mind, Ellie’s eyes flutter slowly open as if the action takes all the strength in the world, and she looks deeply into Lawrence’s as she gropes blindly for her hand, which Lawrence rushes to take. “Before...the recording. Want you to know that...us. It was real. To me.”
Lawrence doesn’t know when she began crying, but suddenly her cheeks are wet and her tears are dripping onto the lapel of Ellie’s suit. She leans close to Ellie’s side, murmurs into her ear.
“I forgive you. And I love you.”
Lawrence hears Ellie as she whispers out. “I love you too.”
And as Lawrence tells herself she needs to get it together, and that she’s still a police officer in the field and she needs to get evidence from a key witness before she…
Well. Before the worst case scenario.
...she turns her face, presses an urgent kiss to Ellie’s cheek that she doesn’t give a fuck about anyone witnessing. The implications of that can be something for her to worry about once she’s healed, grieved for a girl she both knew inside out and didn’t know at all. Instead, she sniffs, straightens up and holds the phone to Ellie’s lips.
“Come on, Ellie. Say it.”
And as Ellie’s eyes drop closed and her lips move, Lawrence tunes out the chaos of the police presence around her and condenses the moment to Ellie’s hand in hers, and the gentle wind that plays with her hair splayed out on the grass, and what could very well be her final words.
“DI Eleanor Diamond...in the hopeless expectation of death...I record my dying declaration…”
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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years ago
Text
Demon Dabi x Reader
A stranger in the woods has a peculiar offer for an unsuspecting fem reader.
Halloween special won the vote! I’m writing kinky things for kinktober! Send me a request!
Warning: This is quite a bit more dark than some of my other works. It’s not super graphic or anything but you’ve been warned.
“We really should not be here.” You swallowed what felt like a rock. Everyone thought it was funny that you were so frightened to be out here. I mean, it’s October. Walking around in a cemetery, at midnight with a bunch of cheap flashlights? This feels like a horror movie. You held your flashlight with shaky hands, your trio of friends giggled as they started to leave you behind. “Hey wait for me!” You called and your blonde friend Lilly turned around and jumped at you. “OoOooooO!!” She jumped around you, acting like a ghost. “I’m an ooold spirit that haunts these woods!!” You stopped and crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Quit teasing me. I’m not scared of ghosts!” You walked past your friend and she jogged a bit to catch up. “Yes you are you big baby! You know what they say about this forest...” Lilly’s sister Iris turned around to poke you. “They don’t say anything about this forest. I’m not afraid of ghosts, I’m scared of real threats like getting lost in the pitch black woods!” You shouted, not really getting too irritated. Your friends love you but think you could loosen up, you frequently close your eyes at scary movies and don’t go on a lot of dates. The three of them always try to push you past your boundaries, and you’re grateful they care enough about you to drag you out for some fun. Your third friend Ami playfully slapped Iris. “Quit teasing her so hard. I think I see the smoke from J’s party!”  She pointed and took off running.
Lilly giggled and ran after her, leaving you and Iris. “Not to be too freaky, but I did get a cryptic warning from J when he invited us.” Her voice lowered and you rolled you eyes again. “Whatever Iris.” You brushed her off and she grabbed your arm. “I guess a dude went missing around here a couple months ago, and someone else a few months before that. He told me to take my taser just in case.” She handed it to me. “I plan on getting trashed so I need you to hold it.” She said with a wink. She started to jog towards the smoke too. “Since you’re so brave now!” She called over her shoulder playfully. Of course she’s planning to get wasted, you’ll be the sober babysitter once again! “I’m plenty brave...” You muttered to yourself, grabbed hold of the taser tightly. “Ghosts aren’t even real...” You started to trudge after them. “Not a believer are ya?” A low raspy voice called from behind. You tripped forward and twisted around with a gasp. You looked up at a fearsome man. He had piercing turquoise eyes that shone in the dark. You dropped your flashlight and a warm hand clamped over your mouth. He held up a finger to his mouth and shushed you, promptly disappearing into a cloud of thick smoke. You gasped after his hand left your mouth and stood their shaking. “Come on Y/N! Hurry up!” You heard your friends call into the dark for you. You bent down to pick up your flashlight, it had turned itself off after you dropped it. You pressed the rubber button on the side and it lazily flickered on, just to sputter right off. You slapped the bottom of it a few times, begging it to turn back on. “Dammit... please!” You shook the flashlight a few more time’s and nothing happened. You tossed the stupid thing to the floor and tried to call out to your friends. Your voice just came out in a small squeak, barely even making an audible sound. You took a step forward, clutching the taser firmly in your sweaty palms. What the hell just happened? You cursed at yourself for being so stupid. What if that was a serial killer or something! Your feet crunched crisp decaying leaves, the only sound you hear beside your shallow breathing.
“Are you coming Y/N?” Something sounded off about Lilly’s voice. Her usually chipper tone was hollow, and echoed loudly through all of the tree leaves. You stopped walking and narrowed your eyes. Where did the moonlight go? It’s so much darker now. The smell of burning pine wood flooded your nose and you coughed. A thick smoke was hanging above your head.
“You know, you’re kind of cute.” That low voice called out and you spun around, nothing was behind you. A dark laugh echoed through your ears and the tree’s blew harshly in the wind. Your body finally allowed you to pick up and run. You sprinted through the forest, trying to dodge low branches and thick foliage. The smoke started to effect your lungs, you coughed into your elbow, looking away from your feet on the path for just a moment. You ran directly into someone tall and they caught you. “Hey now, where do you think you’re going?” Two hands grasped your shoulders and held you firmly in place. “I thought we were just getting started.” He smirked and clicked his tongue. You couldn’t see his features in the dark, all you can see is the slightest glimmer of silver metal in various places on his face. You clicked on the taser and jammed it into his stomach, hoping to send an insane amount of voltage coursing through his body. A spark flashed out of the end of the small but powerful device, a loud zapping sound bursting through the air and hitting your ears.
The man shivered like something cold touched his neck, but was otherwise unaffected by the electrocution. “Hey now, no need to be so aggressive.” He purred, white teeth shone out from behind a devilish smirk. “Aren’t we just having a little bit of fun?” Your eyes were glued to the useless taser, your fingers still tightly coiled around it. “Please, call me Dabi.” He said, aloof.
Blue flames erupted around you, the damp foliage hissing with smoke. The fire revealed your situation, you thought he might have been wearing a long sleeve shirt, but really his arms were covered in a deep tissue scar. His face had multiple staples connecting burnt tissue to healthier looking pale skin. His eye’s were a startling turquoise, the fire illuminating the madness that glazed over his pupils.
The fire licked at the sides of your jacket, the rush of the heat forcing you closer to him. You stumbled into his chest. He laughed darkly and grabbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. His warm fingers pinched you harshly, you attempted to push him away and then quickly realized you’d shove yourself right into the burning forest. “Feeling feisty are we?” He had no smile on his face now, his look holding a menacing curiosity. “So tell me, little red riding hood...” He ran a finger down the side of your face. “What brings you out here to the big bad wolfs forest?” The fires around you disappeared, the forest that was quickly going up in flames returned to normal. The smoke dissipated, the moonlight peaking through the tops of the tree’s as he let go of his firm hold on you. “What... what are you?” The words fell out of your shocked mouth, your fear being overcome by something more confusing.
His looming height, his deep voice. The way the blue light had danced around you two like sinister ballerinas. You should be screaming and terrified, clawing your way away from him.
Yet you felt something else.
You felt like you were in a dream.
“Answering my question with another question?” He took a step towards you.
You took one back, not taking your eyes off of his face.
His somehow, lovely face...
“That isn’t very polite, doll face.” He tilted his his jaw up when he spoke to you, his eyebrow half cocked. “Do I need to teach you some manners?” He took another step towards you and you stammered back, shaking your head no with wide eyes. He smiled, drinking up your fear. “Alright then, let’s try this again.” He asked crossing one arm over his chest, holding the other hand out, letting a blue flame hover over his palm. “What has got such a nice looking young lady walking around out here by herself?”
“I’m... I’m with my friends...” You took a shallow breath and tried to sound more confident. “There’s supposed to be a party here tonight.” You said a little more sturdy. Maybe if he knows people are looking for you, he’ll leave you alone.
“I didn’t peg you for a party girl.” He let out a raspy laugh. “That sounds kinda fun, maybe I’ll drop by for some fun.” He licked his front teeth, each tooth in his mouth was pointed like a sharks. You gasped and fell backwards, your shoulders hit the base of a strong tree, sending a sharp pain up your spine. “Thanks for the invitation sweet heart.” He drew out his last words with a deep bellied laugh, the flames in his palm spreading to his entire body.
In just a moment, he was gone.
“Hey there you are!” Iris walked around the paths turn as she yelled at you. “I thought we really got separated for a minute there.” She stopped in her tracks as she saw you plastered against the tree, your fingers digging into the bark shooting sharp pain under your nails. Your face is void of color, and your chest is heaving. “Oh my god! You look like you just saw a ghost.” She rushed over to you and grabbed your hand, pulling you down the path. “I know you can be a bit of a chicken, but we barely ran ahead! You should of just followed us.” She sounded more irritated than worried about your well being. “Iris there was someone out here.” You forced the words out of your wind pipe, looking over your shoulder.
The night air felt heavy, like has was standing right in front of you, using all of the fresh air for himself.
“Yeah duh, there’s like, thirty people out here.” She scoffed pulling you towards the sound of speakers thumping. You could hear the bass boosting, people were laughing and singing. You yanked on her hand, trying to pull her back so she would listen. “I’m not talking about the party there was a man and he-” She whipped her head and scowled at you. “Can you chill? You’re acting nuts.“
Her words stung, but it’s not like this was the first time your friends had brushed you off.
You bit your tongue. “It’s not really the time to be pulling a prank.” She softened her harsh tone a bit. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She said, her mood completely shifting. Her voice was sing song-y, she waggled her eyebrows at me. “He’s super smart. I think you’ll like him.”
The party was in full swing, a small bon fire was burning in the center of the clearing. A few cut logs circled around the fire, along with a few canvas camp chairs. They were all abandoned, everyone either dancing or standing around talking into their drinks. Lily waved frantically at me, she was hanging off of J’s arm, her face pink from the alcohol already. Iris followed you over to them and Lily touched your face a little harder than she meant too and giggled. “H-ey!” She pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You have got to meet J’s brother. His name is Kai!” You followed her to a boy standing alone by the drink table. He had floppy blonde hair that curled onto his forehead. He wore thick rimmed glasses and had honey brown colored eyes hiding behind them. He gave you a sweet smile. “Oh hi, you must be Y/N.” He had light freckles sprinkled across his cheeks. “Wanna sit and talk?” He pointed to the fire and you joined him. You two talked for a little while, he told you about his classes and a few other mundane get to know you things.
“Yeah it’s a pretty tough major, I have to study-” He stopped talking for a second.
“Are you alright?” You asked him, his face turning kind of green. “Yeah I just suddenly feel terrible.” He wiped some sweat off of his head. “And hot.” He stood up and stumbled towards the forest line. You started to stand up to go after him, when he whipped around with a smile. “I’m okay sweet heart. How’s your drink?” He asked, his voice suddenly lower. Your heart sunk in your stomach as he sauntered over to you, taking a place back on the log. He threw an arm around your neck and pressed your head against his shoulder. “This party is kind of lame...” He whispered so that only you could hear him. Not that anyone was paying much attention to you two. “Wanna get out of here babe?” He purred into your ear. You sat up and shoved him off of you. His glasses shifted off his nose from your push. His brown eyes swirled into another color, now a bright blue. You gasped and he held up a finger. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the party now would you?” He said with a wink. “You need to get out of here!” You said through clamped lips, trying not to make a scene. “No way beautiful! I’m enjoying myself. Let me have a sip of that.” He snatched your drink and took a gulp. He spit it out immediately. “Is that water? What’s wrong with you!?” He dropped your plastic cup on the ground. “Let’s get you a real drink.” He reached out to take your hand and you threw your hands in the air. “What? No! Where’s Kai?” You wanted to pull your hair out. It was like talking to a brick wall. “Is he really your type? He seems like a fuckin’ dork.” He gave you a soft flick in the forehead. You slapped his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you want?”
A wide grin spread across Kai’s face, a look you didn’t think the boy’s body had ever made before. “That’s a good question.” His gaze trailed from your eyes down your body. You covered your chest by crossing your arms, feeling self conscious suddenly. “I was feeling a bit bored, so I was going to torch these drunk kids.” He looked over at your group of friends, Lily was spilling her drink, Iris and Ami were grinding on each other to impress the two boys standing nearby. “A big fire, a bunch of drunk idiots. It’d be written off as a terrible tragedy.” He clicked his tongue. “You know what? That does still sound kinda fun.”
You punched him in the arm. “Will you stop it!” You said a little too loud. A boy from your campus gave you a weird look from a few feet away, but didn’t interfere. “Did you just punch a demon?” He asked with a straight face. You brushed off his words, the anger boiling over. “You know I think I have you figured out.” You narrowed your eyes and jammed a finger on his chest. “You just like causing drama, don’t you!” You sighed, exasperated. “You’re just like my damn friends. Doing and saying whatever you want without regard for anyone’s feelings.” A few tears stung behind your eyes. “So can you politely fuck off?”
The man hiding behind Kai’s face was intrigued. “You know what...” His voice was raspy. “I like you Y/N.” You blinked and his scarred face appeared in place of Kai’s, his floppy hair hiding part of his forehead. He leaned in and cupped your face, planting a hungry kiss on your lips. Your eyes fluttered close, his lips were surprisingly soft as they smashed into yours. He pulled back and bit your bottom lip hard, drawing a bit of blood. You winced and tried to pull away. He pressed his mouth back onto yours for a moment longer, gripping your face to hold you just where he wanted you.
He pressed his mouth against your ear and whispered to you. “You don’t belong here.”
Your heart hammered in your chest. Why would he say that? You belong here, you thought. J and his friends didn’t invite you specifically but you knew that the girls always take you anyway.
Yeah that’s why they dumped you on the only other loser at the party...
A little voice in the back of your head said.
No I mean, Kai is nice. They probably thought you two would make a nice couple.
“Why would you say that?” You looked at his face, it was back to Kai’s. His eye color the only thing giving him away.
“Aw come on, look around you!” he motioned to the party goers.
Beautiful people, popular people. You could never be one of them... that familiar ping of rejection sat in your stomach.
“I- I know...” You started to say and he interrupted. “You’re so much better than them!” He said loudly. The party seemed so far away, the thumping music warping and sounding like distant violins. Smoke gathered low on the ground. Your dancing friends were moving in slow motion as shadows, you couldn’t tell them apart.
The man stood up, his body looking like his own now. You looked around for Kai, you saw nothing but warped silhouettes.
“You have a unique soul...” His voice echoed around you. “You don’t deserve to be stepped on, treated like you’re anything less than a goddess!” He was shouting, horns grew out of his head. They were spiraled and black, jutting out of his dark hair. “I’m not a goddess...” You looked down at your body, at your hands. You feel so plain, your friends tell you that about your style all the time. One of the shadows appeared in front of you. A shrill voice called out from its gaping mouth. “You can’t wear that out with us! You look dumpy!” It was a quote from Lily. Another shadow loomed over you. “Could you stop panicking? It’s killing the vibe!” It screeched something Iris said to you often. You dropped to your knee’s and covered your ears. “Are you really eating that? I just know that I could never.” Ami’s shadow said behind you, quietly. Her words always coming as a surprise attack, she would stick up for you but only to a point.
The demon took a step between you and the harsh memories. His arms glowing with his blue flames. He had large black wings that blew them away with one quick gust. “You’re not a goddess yet...” He tipped your chin gently, making your teary eyes look up at him. “But if you come with me, I’ll show you real power.” He said aloof, his face not showing too much emotion anymore. He had a cool, stoic glance as he studied your features. “Where would we go?”
He smiled. “Anywhere, everywhere.” He knelt down, crouching in front of you. He leaned in close to you, still holding your face. “I’ll take you to my kingdom, where you’ll sit on my lap on my throne.” His hand left your chin and slowly crept just below it, holding onto your throat with his thumb and pointer finger. “You’ll be my sexy little pet, hopelessly spoiled and relentlessly fucked, for eternity.”
He squeezed your throat gently, just barely applying pressure. The warmth of desire crawled through you slowly, heat building in your core. “Give yourself to me...” He growled in your ear. A small whine left your lips, riling the demon lord up further. He pressed himself on you, you lost your balance and fell onto your back.
The bonfire burned blue, it’s embers floated lazily above you two in the air. The shadows seemed even further away as the landscape around you changed. The tree’s grew even taller, the gnarled branches reaching impossibly high. The lush grass of the clearing was gone, your back rested on a warm stone.
He parted your legs and pressed his hips hard on you, you whimpered, his cock pressing against your inexperienced body. “Dabi...” He reveled in your sweet cries for him. “Yes, little red?” He felt a rush of primal energy. His voice was layered, an echoing deep sound that vibrated in your head. “I want to go with you...” A clawed finger touched your neck, you felt a searing pain as he burnt an ‘x’ on your unblemished skin. You screamed, but you didn’t push him away. The burn was a tattoo, a small black dragon that spit blue flames. It’s flames coiled around your neck, a thin line around you like a collar.
You heard distant screaming, was that Lily crying? He was removing your clothes, your breath heavy and hands shaking with excitement. You opened your eyes and looked to the side, you could see part of your old world through a blue wall of fire.
The party was up in flames.
Dabi bit down on the side of your breast, snapping your attention back to him. “Eye’s on me pet.” He looked you in the eye as he plunged himself inside of you. You cried out, he pulled himself out of your throbbing sex and tasted your virgin blood on his tongue. “What an obedient little minx.” He pulled your hips to him, dragging your bare body across the stone. He towered over you, enjoying how small and powerless you looked underneath him.
His hips were wild, he thrust into your dripping walls with incredible force. His size stretching your muscles to better fit him. You could do nothing but scream his name, begging him for another orgasm. He deliciously obliged, giving your body the shaking release it craved. He slowed just slightly, you felt his staff pulse inside of you seemingly out of nowhere, a slight twinge in his face giving away the only clue that he was finished with you for now. His hot seed spilled into you, he stopped his erratic movements and leaned down to your lips as he pulled out. Your body is covered in bite marks and bruises, his kiss coming as a soft surprise. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he smiled into your mouth. “I could get used to this...” You choked out through a lust filled throat.
Your mind never trailed away from him even for a moment, your old life behind you in a flash. You felt your head while laying beneath him, you’d grown two little curved horns.
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mar-bluu · 4 years ago
Text
Bathroom Hauntings
Characters: Spot, Race, Albert, Elmer, Finch Ship/s: implied Sprace Word count: 2661 Warnings: swearing
--
It had been ten minutes since the first scream. At least Spot thought it was a scream, that’s what it was closest to, though it could’ve been anything. A cat fighting a beach ball, and out of control chainsaw on helium, a rubber chicken getting lucky, or a hundred and one other things. He rolled over and looked at the hotel alarm clock on the nightstand next to him. 1:18 am. Usually, Spot didn’t have any trouble sleeping at hotels, in fact, he found it easier than sleeping in his own bed, but tonight something felt off. He rolled back, pulling the scratchy blanket up to his ears. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. He felt his muscles start to relax, and he nestled deeper into the mattress. Spot had just begun to feel himself fall into the deep reaches of unconsciousness, when- “Shit!” Spot swore under his breath as another scream echoed through the halls. His blood turned to ice and his toes curled. He looked across the room, no one else stirred. He was imagining things, no one else seemed to notice, so maybe it wasn’t screaming? Nothing had ever happened on one of the school trips before, so why would anything happen now? A teacher definitely would’ve heard it and/or done something about it by now, so there was obviously nothing to worry about. Right? 
BANG! A third wail…. 
Right? He chewed on the inside of his lip, his mind whirling; should he stay in bed and pretend like nothing was happening, or should he go and investigate? A low scraping sounded from the corridors. Spot screwed his eyes up. That settled it, he was going investigating. Not alone though, obviously, he wasn’t stupid. He sat up and slowly swung himself out of bed, quietly moving to the bed across the opposite side of the hotel room that was bathed in shadows. He crouched down beside it and placed a hand on the still figure lying there, gently shaking him awake. “Race, Racer, Racer, hey!” Race sat up with a snort, eyes wide, and flung his arm out, his fist connecting with Spot’s cheek. Spot reeled back. “Ow! Watch it Race!” “Huh?” Race rubbed his eyes and peered over blearily. Spot moved back towards the bed, still rubbing his cheek. “I said ‘watch it’.” Race looked over at the clock and took a deep breath in. “What. In the ever-loving fuck do you want Conlon?” He ran his hands over his face. “I need you to come with me.” “What? Where?” “I’m not too sure.” Race moved his hands so that he could look out at Spot from between his fingers. “What does that mean?” Spot bit his lip. “It means we’re gonna go find something.” “Wh- find?- can’t this wait until morning?” Race pulled the blanket up and rolled over. Spot sighed and twisted Race back. “No, it can’t. Have you not heard all the screaming?” “No, because I’ve been sleeping, like the rest of the people in this building.” “Well I have-“ “Leave it to the teachers! Mr Bayes is probably already sorting it out.” Race pulled the blanket up over his face. “Race, please, we’ll be super quick. You’re probably right, it might be nothing, so let’s go check it out, and then you can get straight back to bed.” Race flung the blanket back. “You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?” “Nope.” “Why don’t you just go by yourself? You’re not scared, are you?” “I’m not an idiot, Race. ‘There’s safety in numbers.’ Ever heard of that? And of course I’m not scared, are you?” “…” Race swung himself up, grabbed his watch from the bedside table, and stepped around in the dark, searching for the rat slippers Spot got for him as a joke. “I’m giving you fifteen minutes. Got it?” Spot stood up, cracking his knuckles, and stifled a yawn. “Got it.”
--
“Eight minutes left.” Spot turned and shone the flashlight on his phone in Race’s eyes. “Are you gonna remind me of the time every thirty seconds?” Race shielded his face from the light. “Yes, I am, and could you pretty, pretty please get that light out of my eyes before you fucking blind me?” Spot clicked his tongue and swung the light back around. “We’ve been out here for... seven minutes and twenty-six seconds, and we haven’t heard or seen anything. Let’s just save ourselves some time, and head back to the room.” “You said fifteen minutes, it’s only been seven.” “And thirty-four seconds.” Spot sighed. “We’re halfway there, let’s just keep going.” Race slouched forward dramatically, hands practically dragging along the stained carpeted floor. They approached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner. Suddenly, Race gasped, making Spot swear quietly. Race had perked up, bouncing on his toes, eyes comically wide, hands splayed out behind him. “What was that?” Spot spun sharply on his heel. “What was what?” Race cocked his head to the side. “That.” He whispered harshly. Spot narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t hear anything.” Race turned, clasped hands tightly pressed against his chest. “Oh gosh, there it is again!” Spot pulled himself together as realisation dawned, and he bit his lip, nodding slightly in unamusement. “Really? This again?” he rolled his eyes and continued walking. Race pranced after him. “It must be a g-g-g-g-g-g-ghost!” He swayed, bringing his hand up to his forehead, batting his eyelashes after Spot, who just kept moving forward. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” Spot muttered.  Race curtsied. “Why, that’s my best quality.” “Also, I never said that I thought it was a ghost.” Spot continued. Race shrugged “You certainly looked like you’d seen one.” “Only, because you jumped out and tried to give me a heart attack.” “I did no such thing!  I was simply standing there in the hallway, minding my own business, when you jumped six feet in the air and almost shit yourself. Eight minutes and forty-seven seconds.” Spot rolled his eyes. “Yeah whatever princess…”
--
They moved on in partial silence, broken only by Race calling out the time. Spot shone the torchlight in large swinging movements, illuminating every corner of the hallway. As he padded down the corridor, he noticed a sudden emptiness from by his shoulder. He whirled around to see Race standing stock-still in the middle of the hall. Spot sighed “What’s up?” Race tilted his head. “Did you hear that?” Spot gave a small laugh and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “How dumb do you think I am? You did this same thing four minutes ago.” Race bit his lip and furrowed his brow. “No, I’m serious.” “Yuh-huh, and I’m secretly--” Race moved backwards, backtracking to their last passed branching hall. “--the Queen of England…” Spot sighed and followed after him, whispering profanities under his breath. Race had half-jogged a little further down the hall, head still cocked, listening to whatever was guiding him, pressing his ear up against doors and cupboards. Spot really had to hand it to him, this was by far one of Race’s better pieces of acting. He shuffled after him, stepping lightly on the patchy floor, careful not to cause any noise that could possibly wake anyone else up. Heaven help him if Mr Bayes caught him out of bed! By now, Race had slowed, still listening to something, and was picking at the skin around his thumb nervously. “Ha, ha, very funny,” Spot whispered as he approached him. “Now are you gonna take the last two minutes of this seriously, or not?” “I am taking this seriously!” Race whispered back furiously. “Did you honestly not hear that?” Spot narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “No, are yo-” 
THUNK! 
Spot froze where he was. A split-second later, a small yelp followed. “…well I certainly heard that.” He continued. “See I told you something was up!” he muttered triumphantly at Race. “Yeah, yeah,” Race waved a hand through the air, trying to act calm, though Spot could see the sweat forming on his quickly paling skin. “But if we die out here, Conlon,” He swallowed thickly. “I’m gonna have a real hard time forgiving you.” He finished with a shaky smile that Spot returned. He could see Race was maybe becoming a little worried and wanted to help both himself and Race by staying calm, but that became a bit of a challenge as a scraping sounded from down the corridor. Race breathed in deeply. “Shall we continue?” Spot nodded wordlessly. They set off, this time a lot slower than Race’s original pace, stumbling through the hall on shaky legs, neither of them very excited by what awaited them at the end of this journey. In the edges of the torchlight, Spot could make out Race chewing on his lip, eyebrows scrunched together in poorly hidden nervousness. “Are you okay?” he murmured, looking over at Race. “Hmm? Yeah, of course, why would I not be okay?” Race’s face changed immediately, an expression that was probably meant to be cool and unbothered, but what Spot thought made him look slightly constipated. He shrugged. “You just looked kinda worried for a second, that’s all.” “Pfft! Worried! Ha! Don’t make me laugh!” Spot raised a finger to his lips, and Race lowered his voice, “I’m not worried, I’m just… annoyed, yeah! I’d rather be in bed right now, but instead, I’ve been dragged out here to follow strange noises all night. I’m annoyed. You’re annoying.” Spot exhaled sharply in a half-laugh, and moved his eyes down to his hand, that was entwined with Race’s, and was slowly becoming numb with how tightly he was squeezing it. “Okay,” He smirked. “Let go of my hand.” Race’s gaze followed Spot’s. He paused. “…No.” They both looked up, meeting each other’s eyes and stared for a second. Spot felt a light heat rise on his cheeks. He coughed and looked away, as Race chirped a small awkward sounding “let’s go!” and jolted forward, Spot tripping over his own feet as they lurched down the hall.
--
They kept up their slow pace as they neared a large door, the chipped, light blue paint gleamed in the torch’s light, and shadows rose on every side, bearing down upon the two, leering over them, daring them to open the door. They could hear a muffled whispering now, two, maybe three voices all chattering away frantically before hushing themselves, only to spark back up heatedly seconds later. Spot turned to look at Race. “Do you want to do the honours, Mr. I’m Not Scared?” Race rolled his eyes and gave a tight-lipped smile. “It would be my pleasure.” He sucked in a deep breath and slowly stepped forward. The light flickered and the shadows danced like flames licking the doorframe. He let the breath out, shaky and uneven, Race took another step forward. There was a crash from behind the door and he flinched as the voices increased again. Race stepped back and shook out his arms, before leaning in again. He reached for the handle and paused. “You don’t have to do this y’know?” Spot spoke lowly. Race faced him. “Well, I’m gonna do it anyway, so we can go back to our room and forget this whole thing happened. It’s probably just rats in the walls or something…” However, Race didn’t look very confident in his own statement. Spot shrugged. “If you insist…” Race moved his attention back to the door. For the third time, he stepped towards it. Spot could feel his heart racing, the thrum of his pulse pounded inside his head as Race neared the handle in slow motion. The rust-spotted handle shone bright, beckoning them to open it. The whispers had sped up now, low but with a sense of urgency, they put Spot on edge. Race paused to pull down his sleeve to cover the palm of his hand before making it to the handle. He paused took a deep breath in and placed his sleeve-covered palm on the handle.
BANG!
The door flung open, flooding the small hallway with pale yellow light, that quite honestly made Spot feel nauseous. Race shrieked and jumped backwards, tucking his hands into his chest, and screwing his eyes shut. From the sickening light emerged three silhouettes, at which Spot adjusted his grip on the torch, squinting in the brightness, in case things were about to turn south. “Race? Is that you?” One of the figures in the doorway spoke. “You good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Spot raised his hand to shield his eyes. “Albert?” he called. “Uh, yep, and Finch and Elmer, too. Are you guys okay? What are you doing up? “We could ask you the same question.” Responded Race, who had now regained his composure. “It’s a bit of a long story.” Albert shrugged. “We don’t really have time-” “Albert got stuck in one of the bathroom stalls.” Elmer deadpanned. “Dude!” Albert whined, turning around and whacking him lightly on the shoulder. “You make me sound like I’m an idiot or something!” “That’s because you are.” “You’re so mean to me.” He pouted and folded his arms across his chest. Elmer opened his mouth to respond, but Finch cut him off. “Albert woke Elmer up to go help him find the bathroom, and he ended up getting himself locked in one of the stalls with a sticky lock.” Race snorted. “Why didn’t you just crawl out under the door?” “Floor to ceiling doors.” Shrugged Albert. “So how did you get out?” Spot asked, “Oh, well, Elmer and I both threw our weight behind each side to try and get it to budge, but nothing happened, so he called Finch-“ “You’re lucky I’m a light sleeper.” “-Who then found this brick that was being used as a doorstop, and used it to smash in the lock.” ”…” “What?” Spot blinked slowly. Finch shrugged and held up the brick in question that was littered with scratches etched into its dust-covered surface. “Got the job done.” He muttered through a yawn. “Won’t you have to pay for the lock?” Albert, Elmer and Finch froze and looked at each other. “Not if we get back to our rooms before anyone notices.” Spot gave a slight nod. “So, what were you up to?” Elmer asked. “Just taking a walk-“ “-Making a map of the hotel.” Elmer frowned and Finch tilted his head quizzically. “We were…” Spot started up again. “Going on a walk and mapping out the hotel… for a game that we’re playing… called ‘Map the Hotel’?” He cringed internally at his answer. “You don’t have any paper or pens.” Albert pointed out. “It’s a mental map.” Said Race. “Got the entire floor plan all up here.” He pointed to his head. Finch nodded slowly. “Okay… well, I’m dead on my feet tired, and don’t have the energy to care right now, so… Goodnight?” He stepped forward and moved around Race, disappearing down the hall, still holding on to the brick. “Yeah, we should head off too,” Elmer chimed in, gesturing between himself and Albert. “Have fun… mapping…” He cut between Race and Spot, Albert trailing after him, following Finch’s path down the hall as well. As they left, Race let out a breath, and Spot couldn’t help but break into a smile. “You were so freaked out!” he teased. Race punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I was not!” He whisper-yelled back. “Oh you totally were! Did you see yourself when the door opened? I’m surprised you didn’t drop dead!” Spot turned and began following the corridor back the way they came, Race quietly chuckled and strode after him. “Pfft. Yeah, okay, whatever helps you sleep at night!” He slung his arm over Spot’s shoulder, he could feel Race’s muscles relaxing slightly as they continued walking. “But on a completely unrelated note,” Race started again, “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
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sparkexplosive · 4 years ago
Text
Fallen Angel [BNHA FIC] CHAPTER THREE
All Chapters Masterpost
Previously, Chapter TWO
With a gasp of air, bolting up from her lying position and sweat drips down from her forehead. Her heartbeat was rapidly racing that makes the heart monitor beeping uncontrollably making nurses rush in to only calm down to see their unconscious patient is recovering their breath. 
 A male nurse comes over to the heart monitor and shutting it. 
Kaida lays back down with a heavy sigh, placing her arm over her eyes. Breathing in from her nose and exhale from her mouth, repeating it a few more times. 
Her mind recalls what happened earlier to only let out a dry chuckle. 
She should have kept to herself as she used to. 
"Everyone lies at the end."  Tears roll down her cheek with a bitter smile. 
"You aren't a monster, Kaida." 
Everyone that she has trusted always backstabbed her at the end. 
Always. 
They claim to have accepted her to only at the end treat her like a monster. 
She didn't ask to be born like this. 
She shouldn't have su-
A cough interrupted her train of thought to only move her arm from her eyes. Her puffy eyes look at the familiar male nurse with a bag of food.
"I thought that you would like some food in your system, that isn't hospital food." He carefully places the bag of food on top of the wheeling small table, before moving it over to her. 
She sits up to open the bag to reveal some cooked chicken ramen from next door. 
"Thank you." She mumbles quickly, before starting to dig into her food. 
He nods at her responses before asking her question, "I am guessing your Fri-"
"We are not friends... anymore." Kaida splits out before breaking the chopsticks and digging into her dinner. 
"Ah, I see. Sorry to hear that." The male nurse apologies, as the patient, shrugs her shoulders without care. 
"I will get our discharge papers and your weekly pick up." 
Kaida nods in acknowledgment and continues to eat her food without a second thought. She feels a vibration on top of the bed to only ignore it to finish her meal before patting on her bed. 
She pushed herself out of the hospital bed and rip the blankets off to only have something fall to the ground. Putting back the blanket on top of the bed, to kneel to the ground to check underneath the hospital bed. 
Placing her hands on the ground to hold her weight with her light red eyes landing on the black cover of a cell phone case to only place a frown on her lips. Withdrawals one of her hands from holding her weight, and reaching out for the phone with her fingertips. Dragging it out from the bed before getting a better grip on it. She stands up with the phone in her hand. 
Her eyes reading her missed calls from a certain person earning her to twitch her eyes in anger and grasping a hard grip. She pulls up the text messages to send a text. 
"You got your wish. 
Get the fuck off of my back. Jackass." 
She sends the message before clicking on the contact blocking the number and deleting their contact information. 
Slipping her phone back into the pocket of her jacket, and turning to the door sensing someone walking over to her. She turns her head to follow their movements to have papers placed within a clipboard. 
She lazily reads over the information before using the pen tied to the clipboard with rubber bands together. She signs at the places where it's highlighted. 
"Here is your weekly pickup. Ms. Shadou." The nurses gave her a fake smile and raising their arm with the bag containing her weekly supplies. 
Kaida takes the bag and checking everything is there, before knocking shoulders with the fake smiled nurse. "Thanks." 
With that, she walked out of the hospital and stealing a lollipop from the front desk bowl. 
Her eyes were dull from live remembering the torment and torture of restraining her demons again. She sighs in disbelief. 
'I should have just ignored it.'
Her mind remembering how their first interaction. 
5 years ago
Kaida was playing with her game console, pushing her fingers on the buttons in rapid speed with her hood up of her oversized black jacket and lollipop hanging from her lips.   
"That's the kid with the brainwash quirk." 
"Let's teach him a lesson." 
"Come on, man. He is just a kid." 
She paused her game to glance behind her to see a group of middle schoolers. The leader of the group from what it seems was about to pass her. She stuck out her foot in his path since he is not paying attention to where he is.  
He trips over her leg to the only fall on his face and quickly picks up his head to look up who did it. 
Kaida was already running and grabbing her purple-haired classmate' wrist and pulling him into an alley where they attempt to run away from the middle schoolers. They are just elementary schoolers. 
"What are you doing?!" 
"Trying to save you from a beaten." 
Shinsou looks at her shocked with the news to only glance behind him to see older kids with angry impressions on their faces. They turn the corner that would lead them back into society only to be blocked by one of them swiftly taking out a pocket knife with a flick of the wrist. 
The two elementary kids stop at their tracks and walk backward to only bump into others that have caught up to them. 
They both gulped. Shinsou gasp loudly to see Kaida get harshly pull by her jacket collar. 
"What was that stunt you pulled?! Huh! To protect your villain friend who is a pathetic dream of becoming a hero with that quirk of his.." Kaida boredly looked inside of this leader's eyes to see nonexistent remorse. She muffled the rest of what he was saying, but focus on the look of his eyes. 
Eyes of a true villain. 
He wanted to hurt them. 
However, once she hears the words, "I will be a hero who is gonna be rich and get all the girls I want!" 
She blurs out, "I hate heroes." 
In truth, she isn't lying. She doesn't like heroes who are obsessed with their ranking and money. She does like heroes who don't care about their pay and love doing their job. 
Abruptly she was dropped to the ground without her game console in her hands. The leader holds the game console and drops it on the ground before harshly stepping on it.
Kaida eyes tremble at her game console. 
Her last gift from her parents to be destroyed in front of her.   
"That's outrageous! Can you believe this brat?" 
Both children did not expect what is gonna happen in the next few seconds. 
She was kicked in the stomach before changing their attention change to the male classmate who tried to use his quirk to only for it to wear off quickly its effect.  The leader was kicking on him to only have his friends try to stop him. 
"You are going too far, man! They are kids!" 
The leader takes the pocket knife from his friends to only rise it. 
"I am just gonna give him a reminder." 
With a quick slash to only have a blur of black appear in front of him.  Drops of blood land on the ground, the leader hand shakily let's go with the blade in her chest. She got in the way to protect her classmate. 
The leader took the time to let reality sink in. He just stabbed a young child and beaten. This wouldn't look good on his record. He didn't time his consequences.
"My body moved by itself." The blue-haired coughs up blood to the only grip on the knife, pulling out and let it drop onto the ground with a thud. 
"Shinsou, was it? Run." 
Shinsou looks at the girl who glances in his way to freeze at the eyes hold of pure bloodlust, as her red eyes shining brighter than ever. 
Black smoke starts to appear on the blood drops on the ground, as her feet start to having dark smoke which continues to grow becoming like a shadow hovering her. 
The shadow was slowly becoming into something that he didn't have the chance to see. 
Once he starts to run for his life and getting. Behind him, he could hear a disturbing laugh followed by the sounds of screams. 
The noises make him unconsciously shake and shivers down his spine. He could feel something dark presence and slowly turns his head turns to look behind him to see the whole area was covered in pure darkness where the screams continued. 
That day, he found out why she was so feared in her old school and her dark secret that's apart of her quirks.
The demons she holds inside. 
Meanwhile, in Shinsou household, Hitoshi held a broken screen game console that belonged to Kaida. He sighs in disbelief of what he had done. He is an asshole for what he did. 
But he couldn't help but envy her for getting into the department he wanted. 
However, it doesn't change the effect of the words he blurted out in grief and anger. It doesn't justify it. He was a terrible friend to find bring up her past of the society looks upon her as murder when in fact. 
She was not the one responsible for her parent's murder. 
She was just a child who was triggered unleash the full capacity of her quirk. 
It was triggered and force upon her for it to happen. 
Her life was turned upside down due to this incident.
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laketaj24 · 5 years ago
Text
Immured III
Author’s Note: Hi again!!! Alrighty now, this part is smutty af but also intense. There are triggers in the tags. And I’ll throw a warning on there as well! Taglist is open and requests are too!! But just know I am slow and I will get to them in a little while. I hope you enjoy the read!!! Happy Saturday loves!!
Warnings: kidnapping, slavery, smut. NONCON. Death.
Pairing: Reader X Ubbe, Reader x Hvitserk, Reader X Ubbe
Catch up here!! 
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Training with Ivar was brutal, but after his sessions with you at least he left you alone. He didn't come back to play with his food. He fucked you and carried on. Hvitserk hung around, checking in on you constantly. Each morning after Ivar taught you how to swallow without gagging or showed you how control an orgasm Hvitserk brought you books. He brought you food besides dry chicken and bread. He talked to you like he hadn't been your kidnapper.
There was a part of you that was thoroughly intrigued at his attentions but there was an incessant part that wanted him to stay away. Ivar's thick fingers had the lips of your pussy spread, showing the glistening pink and he looked predatory, he didn't have another look. You were sure. He spit and swiped the moisture over your already wet pussy before his cock pushed inside of you and his hands clamped down on your throat. "You take this dick well, Y/N."
You moaned, eluding him that you were close so that he would speed up and you could get back to your room of books. His hands tighten around your neck and you feel his cock grow rigid before the warm cum fills the inside of you and slowly runs down the round globe of your ass.
"You didn't even cum this time," He panted. He was offended but you were confused. He didn't want you to cum it was what all the fucking torture was about for the past month.
You breathe heavily standing up from bed with your eyes locked on the gray concrete floor of the fuck room. "You told me not to." your voice was small but inside you had called him one hundred names and cursed him to the burning pits of hell.
"Good." He buckles his pants and pushes the thick brown hair from his face before pulling your chin up and making you stare into his eyes. Ivar was weird. He wanted that human interaction but any time you reciprocated he'd damn near fuck you until you cried. "Downstairs."
Your favorite word. You hit the stairwell nearly bouncing to your room. The session had been earlier than normal, more time to yourself. The heavy door closed behind you and you picked up the latest book and curled underneath red wool cover. Ivar had worn you out so three pages in your eyes shut and you drifted off into a slumber.
Your dreams had become vivid. You could feel the soft pink lips sucking at your clit and your legs shake with anticipation as the climax took over your body. Then. Your eyes snap open. This wasn't a wet dream. Your body was shaking in unsolicited pleasure. The light brown head full of hair below you came as a pleasant surprise his tongue flicked over your clit before diving back into you. The groans emerging from him did more for you than expected. He was hungry for you. Taken by the way you tasted on the tip of his tongue, intrigued by the way your hands pulled on his hair as he made you scream with pleasure. Your eyes fluttered, legs flinched as the experience overtook you.
"Hvitserk." You yelped. Your legs instinctively pushed you up the bed but like a snake he slid with you not coming up for air. His tongue lapped up more you and sucked again. Your clit pulsed as the orgasm hit you and  could feel then he rose up. The wicked grin on his face surfaced and he pushed your legs flush against the itchy wool. His hands slapped down on the slopes of your thighs and then he stroked himself from hilt to tip. Your eyes were hooked on the tip of his cock as his fingers swiped the precum down and his veined cock grew somehow bigger.
"You missed me?"
You bite your lip and catch yourself enticed by his lust. The fuck was happening with you? Hvitserk's innocently vile grin surfaced and with one forced push his cock was deep inside of you. Your walls excitedly gripped around him and he started to fuck you. Each stroke was intentional, he'd push so deep inside you, it felt as if your body  was ready to explode, shatter with pleasure and then he'd pullout. He tapped the girth of his cock on your clit and your body still jolted with pleasure. Then he'd fuck you again. Chest to chest deeper than anyone had ever been. Your head knocked against the wall but the tempo of his stroke made you not give a fuck. You pushed your hand above your head winding your hips to match his tempo.
Hvitserk's hands were exploring, a twist of the nipples and then a slap with so much force it nearly triggered you to cum but your body revolted, shaking against him anxiously. "You want to cum on my dick?" He whispered. His lips kissed the line of your shoulder and then his tongue licked, tasting you before he slammed back into you. "Hmmm?"
Yes. You couldn't answer. You wouldn't actually.
"Cum on my dick Y/N." He growled and his hips began to move with haste as he fucked into you and all the control you had eluded yourself into having rescinded. Your body tensed as it was overwhelmed and then like a rubber band snapping you came. Immediately surged with pleasure and yelps  flow from you like a fucking ballad. Hvitserk's groans intensified and his fingertips dug into your flesh until he finished inside of you, his body was rigid against yours as you overflowed with him and Ivar.
He pulled out of you sitting up on the bed. "Want to shower?" His voice was light as if you two were lovers rather than captor and prisoner.
"Please." you said flushed.
"Come on." He helped you stand on your weak legs and lead you down the hall. And then you could hear it, the birds chirping and the smell of fresh air. You didn't even realize how much you missed it until it hit.
It's amazing what adrenaline does. One minute you were near limp from being overfucked and overwhelmed and the next you had sprinted up the concrete steps skipping two each hop and you bolted out the door. Before you was nothing but vast land. The forest and a driveway that never seemed too end. You could hear Hvitserk behind you but he was nowhere near you. The plush grass felt like heaven beneath your feet but you had no time to think about that. You had to go. You had to get the fuck out of there.
You sprinted towards the woods, dressed in only your panties and bra the foliage beneath your feet had started to hurt. The sticks cracked, leaves rustled but you never looked back. You dipped under the branches as the huge compound faded behind you. If you could make it to the main highway, to cop you would never look back, never even think about them again.
You had no sense of time as you ran through the woods but the fading hue of the sun over the trees had helped you a little. You stopped for your breath, climbing trees and resting on a heavy branch cupping your hand over your mouth because it was someone on the woods beside you. Though they said nothing you could hear the subtle differences in the way they shuffled their feet over the forest floor.
You'd found your tree, peering down. The sounds of the night had taken over. The hoot of the owls and orchestra of the crickets used to annoy you, but you found your comfort tonight, listening to them remembering nights at home when they'd been the cause of your unrest. They weren't anymore.
The footsteps had stopped and when you closed your eyes you could hear what you were praying for all this time, civilization. The sound of tires on asphalt and the whoosh of the cars passing by. You were near the road. If you could make it to a car, anyone to help you were home free.
You climb down quietly being sure to make yourself light as you hit the ground. It wasn't like the movies, there was not a hint of light other than the moonlight and unlike the dramatics portrayed you could not see anything. You used your hands to guide you and within ten minutes you could see the lights of the road. You were free. The gravel below your feet was an indicator of it. You leaped into the road, your heart thudded. Stay on the road, move quick. You smiled tasting the glimpse of freedom.
"You never listen do you." The voice behind you was distant but not by much.
You turned and it was neither Ivar or Hvitserk. It was Ubbe. His blue eyes glowed eerily as the moonlight met them. You didn't turn back around you just ran on the smooth asphalt hoping anyone, someone would get you.
"Help!" You tried to scream. You waved your arms as the car approached. "Help!!!!!" You screeched and the car halted in front of you. The driver's eyes wide and alarmed. He leaped from the car.
"Are you okay?"
You grabbed the handle of his passenger door tugging but it was locked. "Get me out of hear!!" You cried. "Please! Just drive! Drive!"
The man was confused. "Is someone after you? Are you okay ma'am!"
"Do I look okay?" You cried. You ran around to him. "Drive and I will tell everything… please. Please!"
Finally he saw the horror in your eyes and he turned back to the car. "thank you." The tears streamed. "Thank you."
He opened the back door for you and you shook your head walking to the front. He unlocked it, understandingly and turned to get in the driver's seat. "Is that the guy?" He asked as Ubbe walked from the woods.
"Drive!"
"You fucking punk! You like to beat on women?" And then the muted sound of the gun shot occurred and the blood spattered as the man fell limp onto the windshield of the car. He gurgled as the blood spewed from him.
You watch Ubbe get closer. He was here to kill. You hopped in the car closing the door, clicking the lock button and you were relieved it was still running. You slide into the driver's seat and hit the gas and the car bolt forward. The man's body thuds to the floor and then the car slows. Instinctively you reach for the keys and you realize it has no keys. It has no keys! Ubbe gains momentum walking towards you dangling the small remote to the car.
"Don't you make me run again, or I swear to the gods I will just fuck your corpse." He yelled and then laughed. He reached the window and tapped. "Open up, I'd rather not walk. I need to save this energy." His eyes were wild. He did live for this.
You shake your head at him. "Just leave me alone!"
"I'm going to count to ten and then I will drag you from this car." Ubbe smirked. "And trust me the thought of seeing you bleed against the asphalt only makes me want to break this glass and show you why we don't run."
You block him out, shaking your head and then it happens. The handle of the gun shatters the glass Ubbe is in the car, pushing you to the passenger's seat. The car starts and the shards of the glass cut into your skin.
"What are you going to do to me?" You whispered.
"I'm going to fuck you into submission and if that doesn't work… kill you." He sighed. "Either way you're going to bleed."
Taglist: @ivarsshieldmadien | @equalstrashflavoredtrash | @whenimaunicorn@akamaiden | @siren-queen03 | @titty-teetee | @sparklemichele | @wilddrabble | @imgoldielikehawn | @greennightspider  | @kenzieam@tomarisela  | @scumyeol | @raindrop-dewdrop |  @naaladareia | @vikingsmania  | @readsalot73 | @oddsnendsfanfics |  @amour-quinn | @wheredidallthedreamersgo | @unsure-but-trying  | @lisinfleur | @ceridwenofwales | @leaderradiante | @microsmacrosandneedles | @valynsia@captstefanbrandt | @therealcalicali | @lol-haha-joke | @b-j-d | @cinnabearice| @tephi101 | @grungyblonde | @ivarslittlebadgirll | @igetcarriedawaywithyou | @honestsycrets | @sunnyfortomorrow | @earthsmightiestasses | @sincerelysinister | @dangerousvikings | @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla |  @tgrrose | @tierneygonzalez | @ivaraddict | @alicedopey | @brownsugerhippy| @purplerain85 | @quaint-and-curious-being | @doloreschanal | @ilvebeenabad | @strangunddurm | @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol | @young-ugly-god | @blackspiritshake | @starrmoondaisy | @trailerthoughtstexas | @booyouwhore | @athroatfullofglass | @riottkatt |  @honeyofthegods | @car-karaoke  | @funmadnessandbadassvikings | @jennadoll19-blog | @khiraeth | @geekandbooknerd | @rabeccablake | @savismith | @boo-youwhoreeee-blog | @chinduda | @innerpaperexpertcloud | @crushed-pink-petals |@bewitch3dforivar | @pancakeboat | @mdlady | @ainatirb-j | @red-rose-21 | @isthat-tyra98 | @trashqueenbitch | @walkxthexmoon | @anunintentionalwriter | @millie67 | @lol-haha-joke | @eleventhdoctorsangel | @reeree1500 | @tamed--chaos | 
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keets-writing-corner · 5 years ago
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ADSCAFJHKSJFJHKASJKD I GOT TAGGED BY @im-fairly-whitty???? I haven’t even started the surprise I was going to make you asdfajfakfkafajh thank you ;-;
Tag 9 people you want to get to know I’m a shy internetian... so um @zeco5000 and @zapzapsupereffective-blog
Top 3 ships: 
1) currently trapped in Sylvix hell from fire emblem three houses (I blame M2 for this) 2) uhhh Imector still gets me good 3) I’m actually not a big shipper so -shrug- 
Lipstick or chapstick: okay so like, I dislike wearing make-up because of how it feels on my skin. If it had been up to me I wouldn’t even wear chapstick, but alas I play the trumpet, so chapstick is a must. I use a minty one
Last movie:  In theaters: Onward from Pixar, and I loved it. It was so cute and honestly really liked the ending.  Last movie I watched for me: Princess Mononoke. It was discord movie night. I actually hadn’t seen it before. I greatly enjoyed it, but I also wish someone had warned me how gorey it was. LAST last movie: My science fiction literature class told me to watch a SF movie of my choice for a short assignment, but I had to pick from a selection. Watched one called Solaris, it’s from 1972, Russian. Kinda slow at times, but the concept was really fascinating if downright creepy. Dunno how I feel about the ending, about choosing the sugar-coated memories over reality. Highly recommend though for anyone who wants some food for thought.
Reading/playing Huuuuuuu I’m an english major so I’m currently reading a lot of things at the same time.  Playing: I’m actually a horrible gamer on anything that’s not turn-based or at least on PC, so consequently I end up watching a lot of playthroughs instead. My go-to game is pirate101 because it’s pirates, and cowboys, and ninja and samurai and also victorian england all rolled into one. Plus the crew members tend to be hilarious and there are so so soooooooooo so many references to real life, different historical events, literature, movies, there’s a legit Kaiju vs Giant Mech battle in one of the worlds. I swear every time I go through I catch something new.  Watching: still trying to finish watching all of the routes for fire emblem three houses. I am deeply fascinated by different endings depending on choices you make in-game. I have gone through the blue lions route, am about halfway through golden deer. I’m a little tuckered out from it right now, so I’ll just get back to that later. I AM however super excited for FF7-remake, cuz I love the characters through kingdom hearts and I vaguely know about the plot twists and storylines, but the actual game is hard to watch a playthrough of so now I can! :D PLUS OMIGOSH THE MUSIC IS INCREADIBLE AND SQUARE ENIX WHERE ARE YOU GROWING THESE COMPOSERS COME ON YOU GOTTA SHARE
Three random things that make me happy: 1) my friends of course, who are all on discord. Making new friends. Also honestly, just seeing people having a good time?? Yesterday I saw this mom and her 8 year old daughter having a pic-nic on the green belt near my house and it was like the cutest thing? They played rock paper scissors, catch, tag... I couldn’t stop smiling 2) Drawing birds in literally any medium. I can’t explain it, it’s just my thing (I guess birds in general, especially when my own birdos start screaming their heads off cuz LOUD and I go “awww cuties!” when most people would probably cover their ears 3) okay so, 100% guarantee to make me smile if not burst out laughing for a very long time, either rubber chicken covers of songs, or the shitty flute version of Viva la Vida or literally anything from the shitty flute channel. I don’t know why. I am very picky about music cuz synesthesia, I am highly critical cuz I’m a musician and I KNOW how music works. But I unironically LOVE horrible song covers with like kazoos, rubber chickens, or literally any weird sound that shouldn’t sound musical to begin with. 
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scarletraven1001 · 6 years ago
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Academia! - Chapter 2
Summary: Bulma begins adjusting to her new school, and Vegeta is inexplicably annoyed by absolutely everything about her. However, when the blue-haired girl gets herself in a bit of a bind, he finds himself jumping to the rescue.
A Vegebul high school AU, inspired by the lovely  fanart  of @okebtrash!
Previous Chapter:  1
Also on Ao3.
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Note: Hello! Sorry for taking so long with this update. My job has been terrible to my fanfic-life lately, but this story (because of all the amazing art OMG) has been screaming in my head, so I really needed to write it!
I hope you all enjoy this! Feedback would be very much appreciated.
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Chapter 2: The Prefect
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Everything she did made him angry.
Everything.
From his usual perch at the edge of a small balcony, Vegeta watched the blue-haired succubus as she flounced around the school grounds, her infuriatingly short skirt flitting annoyingly around her upper thighs.
Her insipid, pointless half-ponytail – bound by a ridiculous rubber ornament that looked like two tiny balls – bounced on the side of her head along with her steps as she waved at Kakarot and his woman, and she promptly sat down with the usual pair like an awkward third wheel on a motorbike.
The woman – he refused to even think about her name – began to chat animatedly with the other girl while Kakarot stuffed his face like a baboon.
Oh, how he hated her.
It was not even as if the woman did anything explicitly wrong. She just got on his nerves, in a strange way that he could not quite comprehend.
She was trouble. But he did not know why.
And Vegeta, the elite prefect, hated being uninformed.
It was easier to hate her, than to keep wondering why his eyes always strayed to her whenever she was in the vicinity, or why the sound of her screeching, annoying voice made him turn to her like a compass facing the north.
He really, really hated her.
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“No way! Seriously?” Bulma asked, her chopsticks freezing on their way towards her mouth, the bit of teriyaki chicken dangling as it perched before her slackened jaw.
“Seriously!” Chichi laughed while Goku, her boyfriend, grinned with a nod, unable to speak around the sandwich he was chomping on.
“Goku, I can’t believe you punched her out of a fighting ring!” Bulma laughed, before she finally resumed eating, eying the grinning couple before her.
“It was a karate match!” he defended. “My grandpa always told me to never hit girls, but I needed to hit Chichi so I could win and get to fight the reigning champion!”
Chichi just laughed. “Yes, and so I lost to him that day, but I didn’t really mind, because he asked me out afterwards. Win-win!”
Goku grinned. “I told her I’d treat her to lunch because I hit her. And after that, we just kind of hung out together.”
“And now he’s my boyfrieeend,” Chichi sang dreamily.
“I still don’t know what that means-”
Bulma shook her head with a laugh while Chichi just laid more food out onto Goku’s bento box.
A sudden breeze off to her right made her compulsively look up, and as she did, her eyes strayed up onto a nearby balcony, where she found a pair of intense, narrow eyes looking condescendingly down at her.
Their eyes met, and as she hesitantly lifted her hand up to wave at him, he stiffened, quickly turning away and disappearing from her sight.
“What a strange guy,” she thought.
“Neh, Bulma-chan?”
Bulma turned back to Chichi, who was smiling as she held out another plate of tiny pork dumplings.
With a wide grin, she took a couple of pieces for herself, savoring Chichi’s incredible cooking.
If it was true that the best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, then the dark-haired martial artist was thoroughly bulldozing her way through to Goku’s, whether he understood it or not.
“Are you alright?” Chichi asked, and it was only then that Bulma realized that her chopsticks had paused on their way to her mouth, yet again.
“Oh, yes! Yes, sorry,” Bulma said sheepishly.
Goku seemed unconvinced though, as he stopped chewing for a few moments. “Are you sure? You look a bit upset.”
Bulma smiled. “Well, not really upset, per se… Just…” she hesitated. “Do you guys know anything about Vegeta?”
Chichi blinked. “The prefect?”
Bulma nodded, while Goku brightened.
“Yeah! Vegeta’s awesome! He’s my biggest martial arts rival, and my best buddy,” he said.
Chichi rolled her eyes. “Goku, he hates you.”
“He does not,” Goku said. “He’s just a bit mean-looking sometimes.”
“Sometimes?!”
Bulma coughed slightly. “So, he really isn’t very… erm… friendly, huh?”
“He hates everyone-”
“He’s just misunderstood, Chichi-”
Bulma’s mind wandered as the two started bickering, making a few realizations.
One: Vegeta was apparently indifferent to almost everyone.
Two: He was a martial artist, and for some reason, Goku liked him.
Three: If he was always the way he appeared, then Bulma had a very slim chance of befriending him.
She had never been around people her age, always being stuck around much-older scientists in Capsule Corp’s research and development team. Fellow teens were an enigma that Bulma had not yet managed to study and completely comprehend.
Being the genius that she was, though, she knew that teenagers are strange, hormonal people, and mood swings were a norm rather than an anomaly.
Some just disliked you for no reason, and perhaps, Vegeta was such a case. In fact, he seemed to strongly dislike her.
She knew that it shouldn’t really bother her, since she had already made quite a few good friends during her first two weeks in Shenron High. Her mother had warned her that it was impossible to make everyone like you in high school, and Bulma should be content with being well-liked as of then.
However, she found that a part of her refused to accept that Vegeta just didn’t seem to be all that fond of her.
It didn’t really make sense to her. It wasn’t as if he was special.
But somehow, a strange little thrumming, from deep in the bottom of her gut, just insisted that yes, he was.
Bulma was nothing if not a scientist, and she knew that she would not rest until she fully understood the reasons, the issues surrounding the animosity that Vegeta displayed towards her.
Nodding to herself, Bulma decided: She was going to get to the bottom of this.
She had no idea how, but she will.
But first…
“Ne, Chichi?” she called. “May I have some more of those dumplings?”
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“Alright, class,” the teacher spoke, a stern look on her face as she assessed each student with a tick in her eye.
Vegeta gulped, self-consciously adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose when the teacher’s gaze landed on him.
Ms. Uranai was a hard sell, a very old woman who seemed to have used up all her youth teaching delinquent high-schoolers.
She was bordering on ancient, and Vegeta would not have been surprised if she had actually lived through the History lessons that she gave the class.
“I am rather disappointed in you all,” Uranai said. “This exam was not that difficult, and yet, only two people got high marks. Two! You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
The whole class sat unmoving while the old educator narrowed her eyes at them, holding out a folder.
“All these papers in this folder, have unacceptable marks,” she said, putting the folder down on her desk with a look akin to disgust. “I will leave them here. Do what you want with your own results.”
Nobody dared even blink while Ms. Uranai turned, retrieving two sheets from her desk. “These two passed. More than passed, honestly. And I shall be announcing only these.”
Vegeta straightened. He was sure that his paper was there…
“Mr. Ouji,” Uranai called, much to his relief. “Come and take your exam please. Ninety-eight percent.”
He heard a few soft, hesitant applauses from the edges of the classroom as he stood up to get his test.
Ninety-eight? Who could ever top that?
Uranai handed the paper to him, before her eyes suddenly brightened as she looked down at the remaining sheet in her hand.
“And this! This one almost erases my disappointment with the rest of you. Almost,” Uranai said, suddenly beaming. “Ms. Briefs, our new student, come and take your exam.”
Vegeta barely hid the snarl that rose from his lips at the sound of the blue-haired little witch’s name, and he turned, trying not to glare at her, as she shifted in her chair a few seats away from his.
A couple of other hesitant claps, as Bulma stood with a gulp, looking almost scared of the exam as she walked forward.
Vegeta watched as the girl finally held her exam up to see her results, and as she looked at it, her already large blue eyes turned huge in her apparent disbelief.
Uranai grinned widely, as Vegeta stiffened in denial.
Could it be…?
“One-hundred percent. Congratulations, Ms. Briefs.”
The class erupted into surprised applause then, and Bulma looked up, a huge smile on her face as she looked around at everyone.
Vegeta looked around in distaste, lifting his hands to clap reluctantly, even though he was seething.
Kakarot actually whooped, the idiot, and Chichi looked so delighted, it was sickening.
He looked back at Bulma, who was positively preening.
He narrowed his eyes in irritation, unabashedly meeting her gaze when it landed on him.
Her smile dimmed slightly, before she turned away to smile at the other people in class.
How… dare she…
How dare she best him.
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She was so happy, she could float.
Well, maybe not float, but she could probably build a small copter to help her fly.
Her first exam in high school, and she was the only one to receive full marks.
This ought to make her mother happy.
Her father, not so much.
Dr. Briefs had been entirely against her going to regular school.
He would probably just sigh, and Bulma could practically hear him now…
“Bulma, you are a certified genius. Of course, you would get full marks. You could probably give your teacher an exam.”
She huffed, mentally sticking her tongue out at her father.
She walked slowly towards the corner where she knew her driver awaited her. She had given him explicit instructions to not move a single inch closer to the school than the tree that she had picked for him to wait beside.
She wanted the full ‘school experience’.
Classmates, a uniform, the walk home…
Her father had emphatically put his foot down regarding her request to walk all the way home.
With a bounce in her step, she carried her bag, happily humming a tune.
She was just about to turn the corner that would make the car visible to her when a small ball bounced up from the edges of the trees that lined the sidewalk.
Intrigued, she stooped down, her short skirt hiking up her bum as she picked the ball up.
“Wow, what a sight, ain’t it, fellas?”
She straightened in surprise, tugging her skirt down as she dropped the ball and turned around, only to find a group of four boys, narrow eyes leering at her from a few meters away.
They were all wearing green uniforms, and Bulma recognized it as the ones worn by another school on the opposite side of town.
“May I help you?” she asked stiffly, taking a small step back when the boys moved forward.
“We heard that a pretty new girl had started in Shenron,” the guy in the middle of the group said, his large eyes raking shamelessly over her body.  
Bulma frowned. “Well, I am pretty, alright. You’ve seen me now. Satisfied?”
Another stepped forward. “Not really. See, just looking isn’t always enough, is it?”
Bulma shuddered, small tendrils of fright beginning to zip up her spine.
She had never before been in such a situation.
She was alone in the street, just a few scant meters away from her driver, but they were still a few meters too far.
Her driver would be sitting in the car, and even if she screamed, she was certain that he wouldn’t hear.
She was stuck, facing off against four perverts who were all twice her size –
“What the hell are you losers doing here?”
All heads turned towards the low growl, and Bulma felt an elated sort of thrill go through her while a small gasp escaped her lips.
His flame-shaped hair was unmistakable, and his narrow eyes were in furious slits as he regarded the thugs who were terrorizing her.  
“Vegeta!” she cried out in relief, and as he turned to look at her, Bulma noticed a few things that seemed odd.
He was, on the outside, still the same stern boy who watched over the school with the eyes of a hawk, the boy who snarled at students running in the halls or holding hands in the library.
Yet…
Something about the way he carried himself as he stood before the bullies was not the same, and it took Bulma a few moments to begin to understand the changes.
He was not wearing his glasses, and without the glare of the specs, his eyes looked ominous, sharp, far more intense than she could ever remember them being.
His navy blue uniform was not as prim as it was at school, leaving a few buttons opened and exposing a rather rumpled white shirt underneath.
Even his stance was different, just a bit jauntier than usual, his weight mostly on his left leg, while his arms crossed threateningly before his chest.
Vegeta was not tall, not by a long shot, but as she looked at him, he appeared so impossibly imposing, and she surmised that it was the looseness of his posture that just made him seem a lot wider, as if he was ready and rearing for a brawl.
It also did not escape her notice that the four boys had stilled, their body language screaming more than just a bit of discomfort, and she realized, much to her delight, that these boys were afraid of him.
Together, those men could possibly be nearly eight times Vegeta’s body weight, but they were afraid of Vegeta.
Vegeta smirked, before he spoke again.
“Well? What are you doing in my district? And just you four?” he sneered. “Is Ginyu still in the hospital from my beat-down last week?”
The shortest one stepped forward, hands in fists at his sides, but he was stopped by the tallest man with a hand on his shoulder.
“No, Guldo,” he said.
“But Recoome-”
“No,” he repeated, his voice overflowing with contempt. “We can’t take him. Not without Ginyu.”
“Damn right, you cannot. And even with Ginyu, I dare you to try,” Vegeta said. “Get the fuck out of here, and don’t ever think of bothering my classmates again.”
“Keh,” the boy apparently called Guldo said. “What’s the matter, Prince? Are we encroaching on your property? What do you think, Burter?”
A rather tall one with a wide forehead spoke up. “I think the Prince is looking after this girl.”
“Tch,” Vegeta spat. “I care nothing for her. But, as a student of Shenron, she is under my watch. If you know what is good for you, you will leave now, before I lose my patience with you for daring to speak to one of my people.”
Bulma watched as the four boys angrily, mutinously turned, and Vegeta stood, glaring after them until they got into a large white SUV.
They sped away, but not before a few middle fingers were raised towards her dark-haired classmate, who raised both fists back in a demented sort of salute.
When they were all out of sight, Bulma finally let out the breath that she had been holding.
She turned to Vegeta with a grateful smile, but was not expecting to see him striding purposefully towards her, brows furrowed low over his eyes.
“You are unharmed, yes?” he asked as he reached her, his gaze quickly assessing her while she nodded.
“Yes. Thanks to you,” she answered. “I’m so glad you happened to be close by!”
“Tch,” he said again. “You are stupid for walking alone all this way, in the first place.”
“I am not-”
“You are,” he growled. “You have a driver waiting for you just beyond those trees. Why don’t you just have him pick you up from the school gate?”
She startled when Vegeta moved past her, walking towards the place where the car was parked.
Bulma shook herself free from her disbelief for a second before she jogged to catch up, walking beside him as he appeared to be leading her towards her car.
“I just… I wanted to know what it’s like to walk from school,” she said, giggling slightly. “I see it on TV all the time, and I wanted to try it.”
“Is this all just some game to you?” he asked snidely. “An experiment? An immersion activity?”
“Vege-”
“I have read up on you,” he continued. “You are a prodigy. A genius. You do not really need to go to school.”
She looked down, staring at the brown leather of her shoes in chagrin.
“I just wanted to know what it’s like to be… normal. Is that really so bad?”
He paused, and Bulma looked back at him as he stood just a pace behind her.
Vegeta looked thoughtful, melancholy…
“No. It is not,” he said after a beat. “Yet, you need to be careful. Just because you are pretending to be normal, as you say, does not mean that you are.”
He sounded so sure, almost condescending, and Bulma bristled. “What would you know?”
His smirk was slow, mocking. “More than you would think.”
He started walking again, and before Bulma knew it, they were standing in clear view of her car, where she could see her clueless driver napping in the driver’s seat.
She turned to Vegeta again, and though he had gotten on her nerves for a moment, she resolved to forget about the slight and focus more on the fact that he had actually stood up for her.
“Ne, Vegeta,” she said. “I really am grateful. Thank you for your help back there.”
He simply waved her off, and with a last smile at him, she turned to walk to her car.
She had almost gotten in when she turned back, brow raised.
“Say, would you like a ride home?” she asked.
His house was probably close by. After all, if he was there, didn’t that mean that his house was in the same direction where she was going?
He shook his head, then began walking back in the opposite direction.
She shrugged, before she opened the door and stepped into the car.
It was not until several minutes later that she began to wonder…
If his house was in the opposite direction… what had Vegeta been doing there?
8-8-8-8-8
Vegeta felt his brow twitch as he walked back towards the school.
He did not know what had possessed him to trail after Bulma that afternoon, but he supposed that he was glad that he did.
It was very unlikely that Ginyu’s boys would have let her go as completely unscathed as she had gone, if he had not been there.
He chose to focus on how Bulma was safe, thanks to his strange lapse in sense, rather than dwell on why he had followed her in the first place.
Those thoughts were much, much easier to deal with.
8-8-8-8-8
To be continued…
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hawkmamaknows-blog · 7 years ago
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SIN WEEK DAY 1
HAWK MAMA BACK HAWK MAMA SEE SIN WEEK WHY USE HAWK MAMA PICTURE HAWK MAMA IS COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT HAWK MAMA SEE YOU IN COURT
The birds were chirping, the sun was shining and the sky was clear and the day was great. Meliodas was happy. He chugged his drink and burped loudly. He finally had the life that he wanted. Which was really saying something, seeing how just a couple weeks ago he was trying to conquer the world, kill tons of peoples and destroy his enemies. But to be fair they were trying to kill him. Retirement was doing wonders for his spirit now though. He already finished his community service and everything.
After defeating the Demon King and locking him in a chest that they then hurled into space, and then killing the goddesses and breaking the curse and saving Camelot and seeing Arthur made king and saying sorry to the four million humans they had displaced and reconciling with his brothers and got those loan sharks off his ass and finally getting rid of that rash, he now ran the Boar Hat as a normal, everyday bar owner.
Even better, he had finally married Elizabeth. His eyes glazed over with just the thought— as he brought his pumpkin spice latte to his lips to slurp loudly. He started whistling a merry tune as he reminiscing.
His light, his goddess, the thing that had given him a boner for three thousand years was finally his. Oh was she his. Her eight children were old enough to go to school, so the first opportunity he got he had them sent off to Little Knights Boarding School and Academy so they could have plenty of alone time.
He sighed happily, as he looked across the bar, thinking back—-
FLASH BACK ONE
She was upside down, hanging from the chandelier, hogtied with one of her stockings. The sounds of the whip slapping against her skin was arousing.
“Yes, yes, yes! I love this!” Elizabeth yelled, wiggling her butt and sucking on her own toes as he struck her bouncy chest over and over. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?!” She moaned loudly as her bouncy bosom bounced.
Meliodas moaned, his own bar uniform soaked through with body fluids, pumpkin juice and escargot- the rubber chicken in his mouth squeaking loudly as he swung his arm back and forth. His own dick was tied with a really cute bow as he helicoptered it in front of her face. He stood on top of the shaky stoop so he could actually reach his honey boo bear as she swung around like a slab of meat on a hanger.
THE FLASHBACK ENDS
Meliodas gave a low moan as he rubbed the front of his pants. He really did love her. “Ah… Elizabeth,” And she loved him, so much he was pretty sure he hadn’t stopped smiling since his wedding night. Which was actually agonizing as the muscles in his face cramped up.
Unfortunately, that alone time led to Elizabeth getting pregnant again about four days later. Four amazing days. He jizzed so much in those ninety six hours they even had to scrub the outside of the bar during clean up. But he was happy enough because this one he was one hundred percent sure was one hundred percent his.
Well, Meliodas put his cup down on the bar counter, as he thought. He was pretty sure this was one hundred percent his. He checked after all.
FLASHBACK
“Hey snookums?”
“What it is?” Elizabeth looked down at him, her eyes narrowed as she continued to impale him with the large love rod that was strapped around her waist. She had him half over the bar on his stomach, one leg raised onto his back, to push him snug against the bar. She looked really good in his fuck wad brother-Estrossa’s cloak.
“You’re—“ Meliodas squeaked as she pegged him deeper, harder and hitting a spot over and over that made his eyes roll. His toes curling. “You’re… really good at this? Have you— done this before?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth whispered sweetly, petting the top of his head, before suddenly going faster. “It doesn’t count if I’m not gay. Now be a good princess, and say my name in French.”
END OF FLASHBACK
Yes, good memories.
And today was a good day too. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and Meliodas was happily wiping down the counter of the bar and admiring his lady love, who was huge. But in a good way. Her hips and long limbs extra nice. Her stomach was protruding with her heavy pregnancy, and she happily hummed to herself while folding napkins and stacking them on her giant belly as she leaned back on the couch they put by the stove.
“Elizabeth?” he spoke up, asking. “Are you sure there’s only one kid in there?” Cause, if he had to be honest, everyone was too terrified to think of the alternative. Howzer still randomly burst into tears and whispered about nail polish at the sight of her.
“Of course,” she laughed, making kissy sounds at him that he made back. “I’ve only been with you. Just one man, one baby.”
“I’m not sure that that’s how it works,” he muttered under his breath, and she must have him heard him because she sighed, delicately putting down the last little towel. “Don’t worry, if anything, maybe having that sixsome with you and you and you and you, with you doing you while I clung onto you as you pushed you between you and me- was taking a little bit of a chance,” she sighs with longing, looking at him with mushy gooey love, “but, it was my hall pass day that day. So stop worrying, even if your clones got me pregnant too, it’s still technically you.”
“Well if you’re sure,” he went to take another chug of pumpkin flavored vodka, when at that moment the front door slammed open.
“BITCHES!” Merlin sauntered into the room, again in her grown up body and down the steps, her scream alerting everyone in the general fifty meter radius. She quickly threw a treat into Elizabeth mouth and pat her on the head as she walked by.
When she got to the table she chucked her large chest onto it, the weight making the entire thing shake. “Wait until you see what I’ve found!”
Meliodas rolled his eyes. “Can you get your tits off the table first?”
“Sorry!” Quickly Merlin removed her breasts, before she placed a smaller box on the table in its place, the thing covered in dust and weird stuff.
“And that,” he said, pointing at her beaver. “In fact, would you put some clothes on and get rid of it?”
“Fiiiine.” With snap of her fingers Merlin was instantly dressed, her clothes barely covering her but at least the important bits were covered. And she kick punted her newest experiment on a beaver out the door. “Here’s what I really wanted to show you.”
Reaching into her cleavage, she proceeded to pull out a greying, battered looking scroll, tugging and tugging until the whole thing came out, around the length of half the room. “I found this ancient scroll in among some things I got at a yard sale, they were cleaning out all the houses from the humans that either got turned into demons, died were brainwashed or were eaten and it has some prophecies on it that I think are about the Seven Deadly Sins!”
“Really?” He headed around the counter and stood next to Elizabeth as she bounced him across the room and to Merlin side with her incredible girth. “We should get the others and--”
“HEY EVERYBODY GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!” shouted Elizabeth making blood burst from the side of Merlin’s and Meliodas head.
Meliodas winced. “What in the hell?”
Elizabeth smiled sweetly. “When you have seven  children, you learn to yell loud.”
FLASHBACK TRES
“Hon hon,” French Meliodas squealed as he tickled a naked Elizabeth, rubbing his cheek against her gooey skin. The princess was tied spread-eagled to the roof of the Boar Hat, and Meliodas watched from his perch on the top of the chimney as his clones went to work. Each had a peacock feather of a different size, and they strokes every inch of her as she writhed in her restraints.
“Meliodas, please!” she cried, her hips bucking up and down. At once all of the clones started covering her with chocolate sauce as they finally pulled out their cocks after three hours of foreplay and impromptu Shakespeare’s acting that left them in tears, and Meliodas sighed happily at the sight.
Only to be forcefully thrown from his perch, as Elizabeth suddenly screamed,“THIS IS DISGUSTING!”
And the force of her screaming orgasm blew all four Meliodases off of the roof with him.
FIN DU FLASHBACK
Frowning he said, “I thought you had eight?”
“Seven, eight, I think we sent eleven to school.”
“Wait? How did we sent— we don’t even—?” But before he could figure out the answer at that moment all of the Sins arrived. Diane’s head burst through the window with King attached to her ear, Escanor jumped down from the rafters light a demented old man monkey, Gowther opened a panel in the floor and stepped up, politely handing a fresh pumpkin bread loaf to Ban, who had rolled out from under another table, and stood up, and took a chair already eating a slice.
“Were you all already here?” Meliodas asked. “I thought we agreed you were all gonna go get your own apartments?”
“We did!” Escanor said cheerfully, pushing up his glasses. “We are all renting rooms here! We even get discounts on the ear plugs if we sign yearly mortgage contracts.”
Meliodas gaped at them until Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and explained, “With thirteen children in boarding school we needed the money.”
“Eight,” he corrected her.
“I’m glad you are all here,” Merlin announced. “I have some prophecies to read.” She held the ancient scroll up. Leaning against it like a stripper pole. “And since this is written in a language of the ancient race of beings called the Dkweknfapoies, and their language cannot be speaken by human tongue, I and I alone can decipher it.”
Hawk trotted in, chewing on something gross as he perked up. “Oh! Are you talking about the Dkweknfapoies? Because actually Hawk Mama and I are from Wefapalot and I actually got my first major in--”
“I AND I ALONE!” Merlin screeched loudly, sending out a foot to kick the hog, bouncing him off all the walls before crashing back into the kitchen, and she glared at the rest, as if daring them to argue. “There,” she went on happily, “now that that is settled, since I am the only person who understands the Dkweknfapoies language, I shall now translate it for you.”
She took out her reading glasses and put them on, making a face at the scroll. Everyone leaned in a bit to hear.
“Captain,” she said mysteriously, all the lights going out as a creepy green glow created a haunted look under her chin. “the first one is about you.”
“Me?” he exclaimed, gulping. “Cool. That’s cool. Is this like, a really really old scroll? And not one from when I was doing a stint in that one gay bar over by the river a couple millennium back, right? Cause whatever it says, they are lying and I totally did not have any sexual relations with that—“
Elizabeth took his hand, shutting him up. “Please, goddesses, let it be winning lottery numbers.”
“Here is my one thousand percent accurate translation,” she began, making scary finger movements. “‘The eldest son of the demon king’--that’s you, Captain--’is not actually the biological son of the demon king’.”
Everyone looked at Meliodas in surprise. His eyes popped open and his mouth dropped. “I’m not!” he shouted, before he pumped his fists. “HELL YAY! take that you asshole?! I’m not an awful, terrible demon! That’s great news! I’m so happy!” Everyone cheered as he jumped onto a table and did a jig. “I’m not a demon! I’m not a demon!”
“I’m so happy!” Elizabeth exclaimed, pressing her hands on her huge stomach. “Now our child won’t be some terrible murderer like the rest of them!”
“Wait, if Captain isn’t a demon, what is he?” Ban asked over the cheering.
Everyone looked at Merlin, who peered back at the scroll. “Yes, yes, I see. Yes it’s right here. This one symbol, and my completely accurate and singular in every way translation is thus: ‘the eldest son of the demon king is in reality... the eldest blessed son of the blessed goddess queen’.”
The room went silent and Meliodas stopped getting jiggy, frozen in place.
The… what with the what with the actual who?
“What?” he asked in confusion, scratching his head. Absolutely confused. “I’m a goddess? The son of the goddess queen? The goddess queen?”
Merlin nods. “Yes. The goddess queen.” She didn’t notice as Hawk, covered In bruises peered over her shoulder.
“Wait guys!“ he puggoed. “That symbol in that order doesn’t mean that! It means blessed by the goddess—“
Before he could say anymore the pig hog burst into white flames, no one batting an eyelash as he squealed and rushed back to the kitchen. The frantic sounds of the sink being turned on and a giant splash cutting off the horrid screaming. But like it was said before, no one was paying attention to that— because it was really fascinating to watch Meliodas go green from head to toe.
“But….,” he croaked, Ban coming up to give him a hand to keep him up, and Meliodas whimpered, “but if I’m the son of the goddess queen… then that would make Elizabeth my--  but that would mean all the happy hankie panky…”
They slowly looked at one other in growing horror, and as the sounds of the Sins erupting into vomit surrounded them, Meliodas said, “Elizabeth is my sister.” Before he just, laid on the ground, his mind involuntarily reminding him that this was the exact spot they had tried out the bridge driver position during breakfast.
Once the vomiting ended, everyone wiped their mouths. Meliodas sat, slumped over the table, sobbing into his shirt. “All these years,” he moaned. “Three thousand goddamned years I’ve waited, and for what? To fucking fuck my fucking sister.”
“There, there,” Elizabeth offered a pat on the shoulder, swallowing behind her hand.
“Hey Merlin.” Hawk peered over her arm, sniffing at the scroll. “I’m not sure if you translated this right. It looks to me like--”
“DO NOT QUESTION THE PROPHECY!” Merlin announced. “I have read the scroll of the ancient Dkweknfapoies clan, and I am the only person who knows how to read and understand. You must all accept my translation, no matter how much it doesn’t make sense, because I am the best at this. You are just rude for even suggesting that I am incorrect. This is slander! This is bullying! This is fraud!”
A tiny whimper passed Meliodas lips, as King looked at them all unimpressed, rolling his eyes.
“I don’t see what the big deal is? You guys are only first generation inbred.” He huffed, “like we always say what happens in the family stays in the family.”
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firewclking · 7 years ago
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📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂📂
“📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon | accepting | @svbjet​
📂 -- all subjects in the experiments have a really odd allergy; seven is allergic is sulfites, max is allergic to certain types of apples, caspian is allergic to caffeine and roi is allergic to certain shellfishes📂 -- diana was previously engaged but after the passing of her father ( her only living relative ), diana went on a soul searching journey and in the end, her fiance couldn’t wait for her to come back so he broke off the engagement📂 -- lifen’s proudest work is actually the mural ( spray ) painted on the wall of one of the numerous stairwells in the art building of her school📂 -- meilin is an active practitioner of taichi; she wakes up early to do taichi with her grandparents. 📂 -- jackie is absolutely terrified of clowns.
📂 -- dahyun can speak russian, chinese, korean, japanese, english and french fluently📂 -- adaline sometimes volunteers in the pediatric ward; she quite enjoys working with kids and witnessing their bravery and perseverance.📂 -- lihua is only nineteen but owns a shop, she’s actually just as smart as her older brother ( iq rivaling each other ); she is actually still attending school so she’s only in the store near the afternoon.📂 -- bomi loves watching the powerpuff girls !! she usually has it playing in the background when she’s working.📂 -- hyesung is sure that her parents have a GOOD idea where she is but is waiting for the right time to ruin her dreams to become a prominent producer ( she is the heiress to a huge conglomerate ).📂 -- carina has a cat-like familiar that helps her and is her companion, to the human eye...it’s just a normal maine coon cat that she coos and speaks to but in reality, it speaks back to her📂 -- iseul avoids eating instant ramyun as best she can, she’s not a huge fan of it and advocates her idols / talents to eat healthy meals📂 -- yuxuan is a really proficient dancer but it’s often not showcased in the music videos she’s in...she’s featured as backup dancers in other group’s videos / concerts📂-- dohee is also an avid badminton player !! when she has the time, she’ll seek out her older brother for a few matches of badminton📂 -- minji starred briefly in a musical but not a huge role; a supporting actress with a few lines but she enjoyed the entire process nonetheless📂-- eunha actually prefers watching action / crime genre shows / movies over cartoons ( she watches enough for her work aha )📂 -- chungha struggled the most with chinese when she was learning it because of the pronunciation and intonation of certain words can change the meaning. 📂 -- sunny has a background of contemporary dancing and has learned how to TUMBLE and do flips out of pure interest📂 -- YN18, X-OUT, LOST BOYS and 989 all live in the same building but on different floors; it’s never a surprise when one group runs a vlive to find members of another group with in it📂 -- minseok wears a knee brace during practice to stabilize his right knee; it’s an old injury he had gotten when he was 15 ( not a serious one but his right knee is a little weaker than the other )📂 --  when zhixiang gets flustered / anxious / excited, he slips into another dialect ( commonly known as minnan ) and only sunny, minzhe and wen seems to understand what he’s saying📂 -- jiwon and woojin both have musical background ( broadway ), both having started in broadway before deciding to take the route to become idols instead of actors📂 -- many fans have noted how similar jiwon and minzhe looks so they have taken to calling them twins...not knowing minzhe has an IDENTICAL twin so when the three are together, some would call them triplets ( except...jiwon is much taller than the two )📂 -- delun had a girlfriend during his stay in the united states but broke up before his return to taiwan ( he calls her the one that got away ) but they remain good friends; he’s invited to her wedding in august.📂 -- yuna is an avid gymnast, so she is very flexible and agile; it would be no surprise to find her sitting in odd positions.📂 -- while natsu and takeshi are japanese, being from different regions confuses them sometimes when either boys slip into speaking in a particular region’s dialect and confusing not only each other but everyone else ( or those capable of speaking japanese )📂 -- hajoon and jaehyun have numerous collaborations together online that people started calling them 2UN ( bc un sounds like the syllable OON in their stage names -- J.YOON [ jaehyun ] and B.JOON [ hajoon ] ).📂 -- weizhe loves citrus fruits !! often spotted eating a small mandarin or tangerine during the day ( gotta get that vitamin c !! )📂 -- seven and caspian loves to eat pop rocks...but caspian loves to eat apple pies much more📂 -- between seven and luxun, if their mother didn’t undergo cesarean section during birth, luxun would have been the elder of the twins 📂 -- grayson’s father is unhealthily competitive to the point where he both physically and emotionally abuses grayson...grayson’s medical files ( if he had an official one ) would be filled with lacerations / tearing of muscles, bruising and other things.📂 -- seonho uses the screaming rubber chickens to cover up his struggles; he wants his group mates to be happy and not worry about the stress of debut and other things, so he shoulders a lot of burdens and uses the rubber chickens to cheer them up or interrupt them so they get angry.📂 -- luxun hates wearing glasses because it reminds him of his ‘nerdy’ and bullied past...he got his vision corrected as soon as he could ( basically becoming an idol was his GLOW UP and a fuck you to his bullies )📂 -- luxun is still in contact with his old group mates ( the group formed as a result of a survival show ) and makes time to visit them when he’s back home📂 -- zhangjing is a sex fiend who’s thirst is seemingly never ending...his friends know about his sexual tendencies but don’t know about his job as a camboy📂 -- during his time with his makeshift idol group, luxun tended to be the HOUSEKEEPER ( or housewife that his groupmates lovingly dubbed him ) and attended to cleaning their shared dorm, making meals and doing all the household chores.📂 -- liwei is relatively hard to scare when it comes to ghost pranks but if it’s well planned and there’s a good build to it ( and multiple in succession -- like a haunted house ), liwei may just freeze up and be reduced to tears📂 -- chengping has TWO tattoos that people haven’t see yet ( one is under his arm and the other is on the medial side of his right ring finger )📂 -- caden has a business background; it surprises people when he says that he’s actually completed a bachelors of business administration while being a trainee...it took a lot of hard work and compromises but he did it📂 -- wonho is EXACTLY one centimeter taller than youngjin and he’s proud of that fact 📂 -- luxun is a workaholic that eats his weight in food ( jk -- but he eats quite a bit and rather frequently ) but despite so, he’s hypoglycemic so he tends to have juices in his bag or some sugar source to stave off the low blood sugars📂 -- grayson absolutely loves nutella...he keeps a small jar in his bag and hides them around the yeoneo building and dorms so he can snack whenever he’s working.📂 -- liwei started out with an innocent heart murmur as a child before being given up for adoption and it got worse over time simply due to the career he had chosen -- long work hours, endless practice, etc -- that it had caused him to collapse one night and rushed to the hospital ( his members thought he was having a heart attack ).📂 -- chengping is actually really self-conscious about his body image and weight so he regulates what he eats / drinks strictly with a biweekly cheat day.📂 -- luxun is absolutely TERRIFIED of heights and flying...so he takes strong sleeping pills before going on flights so he’d be asleep for a bulk of the flight📂 -- chengping has been nominated and won the best supporting role for his role in a romantic drama ( #secondleadsyndrom )📂 -- meilin loves to drink herbal teas and tries making her own leaves blend with different health benefits📂 -- lifen ( while she doesn’t seem like it ) follows a lot of idol groups and is currently watching the survival show idol producer📂 -- mingjie does drugs once in a while but often gets drunk more often than not and even though he’s intoxicated, he tends to not take a taxi home ( aka -- impaired driving )📂 -- hyunki owns an variety of coffees ( different roasts / blends / regions ) and two french presses at home; he is capable of differentiating between coffees📂 -- it’s no surprise that several of the trainees from yeoneo own animal onesies; they boast of it during their lives and have ‘fashion’ showing off their cute onesies ( notable mentions -- sunny’s panda onesie and luxun’s cow onesie )📂 -- michael has made it a routine to get ice cream after his orthodontist appointments, more so to use the cold treat to soothe his teeth pains than as a reward for getting through it.
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honorable mentions: quotes that didnt make it into my recent "the signs as" post
but wAS THE DOCTOR NOrMAN BATES????? good evening, you dirty homestuck lmo i lunch what are you, a chump welcome to your tape i nominate cordy for bucket duty PENNSYLVANIAAAAAA you got me. i am a cute polyamorous fuck thats allergic to spice "Yahtzee" said Dave. "Oppan Gangnam Style," her brain said approvingly. "Bruh," said Terezi. 🐴esist "i ship it" bb said blankly. the score is now Cordy 826, Jacob Asshole. welcome to scenic Screwup City, population Allison Keith "fuck up", see under "shut the" at least we have memes to dull the pain of existence i once had a dream that the kid who played rico in hannah montana went to our school im allison, from gym class im karina, from hell imagine if all babies sounded like Cr1tikal i think i convinced my moms friend to name her son eridan gay love! bee communism, and robot communism for that matter, sleepless in seattle 2: electric boogaloo yknow i dont think nebraska exists ava and emma are pyromaniacs, more at 11 dont you >:3c at me young man how did you know chess the musical was a musical about chess i hate shakespeare but ive alrready sold my soul to the bard *someone sends me a video of a furry convention* this is cyberbullying okay ive wanted to do this for a while but guys i gotta come out to you im a communist and a lesbian but more importantly a communist "disgusting" beef cheek bernie will pierce me DIE COMMIE FUCKER kisses smorch is a valid fantroll name i sweater god sounds like something a daddy dom would say amelia have you ever heard of a wild concept called church and the redemption of sin my entire body is in tangible pain!!! n'y'all welcome to hellmurder island ill be your concierge LEEEEEEEEROY NJENKINS hatsune malfoy maybe the REAL horcruxes were the friends we made along the way *soccer mom voice* sorry marlene, you arent daddy material pumpkin party in sea hitler's water apocalypse: the real straight agenda I HAVE WEAK THUMBS, LIZZIE my name. is will SHAW. *accidentally flushed my pad down the toilet* well this has gone completely fucking pear shaped, looks like theres no other way outta it. youre going to have to decapitate m no but listen have you ever actually played russian roulette dave strider, hatsune miku, and vlad the impaler walk into a bar, brandon you chicken fried fuck chapter one; old man megido and the freezer of doom STEALING MY PHONE WONT CHANGE YOUR INCESTUOUS FEELINGS ANDREW *blasting metal crusher* fuck me mettaton hey cordy what happens if i snort pop rocks "you die" shit really fuck you and fuck your dog biscuits!! young man, are you suggesting we blackmail batman i identify as an anime character, i promise i am pikachu in my heart im a fucking winner! a winner!!!! oh shit its sans undertale OH SHIT ITS JOHN HOMESTUCK O H S H I T I T S D I P P E R G R A V I T Y F A L L S No Archive Warnings Apply: Aradia Megido/Aradia Megido fucking mc escher YOUVE MURDERED US BOTH, YOU SON OF A BITCH, IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU *loudly humming megalovania* "please" sbear ov juddice shes fuckinh whispering the lyrics to funkytown in my ear *ievan polkka blasting* taste THIS rainbow! goddammit janet b-buddy? *dani california blasting* listen. have you ever seen 2001: a space odyssey? "no" okay watch it and tell me being in love with hal 9000 is wrong i warned you about the stairs bro, i told you dog IT JUST KEEPS HAPPENING ELLLLLLECTRIC LEMONNNNNNN *screaming* MARQUISE SPINNERET MINDFANG eat me, lizzie millican! mushroom dance, mushroom dance, whatever could it mean? "it means youve lived a life of sin" *loud and squeakily* aND EVERY TIME WE ToUC H— DOES ANYONE HAVE THE VIDEO OF ME SWALLOWING RUBBER "nah" ha! youre broke! why is beetlejuice mossy WRONG CHAT WRONG CHAT i am the left brain, i am the left brain work very hard till my inevitable death brain you got a job to do, you better do it right and the right way is with the left brains might I L I K E O R E O S A N D P U S S Y welcome to antisocials anonymous *angrily* tHIS is why youre nEVER GONNA BE STAGE MANAGER *someone sneezes* shut the fuck up your blood is like a venetian delicacy also send nudes DIDNT MEAN TO SEND THAT THOSE ARE MY MINECRAFT PANTIES YOU SON OF A BITCH we should all go to comic con as homeless people with aids "no, annick" ITS BETTER THAN UNDERTALE im so sorry mr strizzle "lance lance revolution" please watch less voltron im pretty sure thats called cystic fibrosis Annick DuChateau has changed her name to 4 Entire DQ Blizzards in a Trench Coat on the count of three everyone kinkshame karina thats gay charlotte!!!! thats gay!!!! "and his memes arent funny" HEY NOW babbay pullmd close rin the backerseart of yowizr rofetr WHERE ARE MY HEADPHONES IM GONNA TAKE BLEACH SHOTS i cant believe brandons a directioner "i cant believe jacks emo" cry me a table, linda *groping an undertale body pillow* kama sutra, siena *singing off key* oNE RinG to RULE THem aLL soak me in your finest milks daddy who is our messiah? ... mrs d'angelo (our science teacher) *brandishing a plastic horseshoe* take it back, fuckboy i hate the library. everyone hates the library. you know what? heres your three dollars. ill see you in hell every time you speak, i hear the sound it makes when pac-man dies rey picks up kylo and dunks him in the trash. fucking obliterated are you a parking ticket? the future terrifies me if you cant put an end to moffat's shit writing you cant put an end of my life cake. stick it in your hoo-hah POLICE PUT THE CUMMIES ON THE GROUND oh you love homestuck? name five of his albums your room has posters with the dead eyes of Cameron Diaz boring through the souls of all who enter--- sollux feels trapped in a hell of "Wheels on the Bus" holy shit is that kurt cobain "yahtzee" said dave "ahem. undertale" then im gonna pull out my dads bigass bowling ball like "this is 1/800 the mass of vy canis majoris" only dumbfucks play magic the gathering in his free time, reginald enjoys BODY SLAMMING CIVILIANS WITH HIS WHEELCHAIR YES EGGSY blondie screeches to a halt, another comrade fallen meggers preggers THE HOT WINGS AVA THE HOT WINGS lizzie dont name your kid onomatopoeia annick youre a running joke in my household i can cut fabric lady but if you wanna see a super special skill i can cut human flesh you kids with your understuck and hometale im extra homosexual, but im in love with him. god bless that man. his laugh is my text tone bellybutton fetish KARINA ITS FIVE AM
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demi-angel-novel · 7 years ago
Text
Prolouge
In a forest on a full moon night a woman is trying to escape a creature cloaked in darkness, with its only visible features being it’s menacing reptilian eyes. The area around them shakes from the pounding thunder sounding overhead. The woman appears to be in her late 20’s maybe early 30’s,
      she has a brown skin tone with disheveled wavy black hair that reaches the middle of her back. In her hands she holds a bundle of white and gold cloth, housing a baby boy. She continues to run with her body crying out in pain from the intense exertion, but to protect her little angel, she would soldier on no matter what happens. The chase continues with the creature narrowly missing her with its jagged claws, inevitably, the monster closed the gap and spears through her with its claws, but barely hitting the child, and causing her to collapse with a searing pain ripping through her. The creature, obviously pleased with its work, grew a thin grotesque smile as it stalks its beaten prey slowly, only to increase their suffering, the once white cloth was now stained red with the woman’s blood. 
     The child begins crying as if sensing the coming death of him and his mother. The creature finally went to finish off them both but a bright light envelops the area and incinerates the creature.
 “Begone demon”. A masculine voice says.
 “You damn angel, grr know this when this child reaches his 15th year I shall return!”
      The only sound left was the pelting rain. The light subsided revealing a man in a white and gold robe with giant white wings. Shakingly,the woman says R…Ramiel “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry,” his voice was deep and rich that seemed to bring hope to any who’d hear it l. With the angel speaking the child calmed himself.
 “I should have been here for you and our son.” 
“Don’t be, “cough”, please take our son and take him somewhere safe … were he can grow up, please hand me Thomas so I can speak my final words to him.“ He nodded and scooped up Thomas and handed him over to her.
 "T-Thomas I want you to grow to be a good man and know that me, your father, and the Lord shall always be with you.”
 She kissed his forehead “goodbye my son”, she whispered as Ramiel grabbed Thomas again.
 “Goodbye my Elizabeth”, with saying his last respects he flew off.
 “Ti Amo tanto.” ( I love you both ) she whispers as she waits for death to take her. But it never comes as an unknown figure drags her away. The child in this story is the child of an angel and a human his name is Thomas Di Angelo and he is a Demi-Angel. Ramiel leaves him at the door of an orphanage, “I am sorry my son I cannot raise you. I hope you will find happiness here.” He knocked on the door and disappears. “Goodbye my son” echoes behind him as a woman with greying black hair and a pair of glasses that rest on her hooked nose walks out and sees the child “a baby?"sigh."come let’s get you cleaned and warmed up”.
     8~years later. Thomas has grown to be 8 years old he now has brown skin with messy black and grey hair with storm grey eyes and a faded raggedy oversized grey shirt and old black pants with a patch on his right knee, and right now he is getting chewed out by the same caretaker from earlier. 
“I can’t believe this we take you in out of the kindness of our hearts and this is how you repay us with this foolishness! Do you have any excuses, hm, 
“like I told you he made fun of my parents and stole my book,
 “and that’s it!” “But he attacked first.“
 "Still it doesn’t mean you fight and your parents they were deadbeats who left a baby on a doorstep. They were probably addicts or murderers,” 
“no, no you're wrong,” I muttered
 “what was that?” She asked with her voice becoming deadly quiet. I said your wrong. My parents’-
“ your parents didn’t love you, they left a baby alone on a doorstep and this book I don’t know why you try your gonna become nothing and accomplish nothing bad if I ever see you do this kind of foolishness again there will be severe punishments. Now do I make myself clear?!” I grew a smile 
“sure you old hag.” Her face immediately showed pure rage.
 “I see so that’s how it is well, time for a punishment” 
     she grabbed my wrist and tore off my shirt and grabbed a whip and struck my back agh “are you crazy?!” She struck my back again my cries echoed across the whole orphanage with each strike I looked in her eyes and I swear I saw a flash of red reptile eyes. After 3 minutes of being whipped, she said
 “now think about what you’ve done and I expect no further disturbances.”
      She says as she exits. I feel warm liquid on my back as it screams out in pain with a metallic scent filling the air. I felt a liquid roll down my cheek,
 "I’ll promise you this old hag I’ll prove you wrong no matter what. Just you wait.”
      2 years later~ “ so you guys ready?” He said to the two people beside him one of them being a girl and the other a boy. “Alright let’s go Thomas runs to the bell labeled EMERGENCY ONLY!!! The others are prepared with a sack and a bucket, with a strange liquid spread on the floor in front of the door John Indica 
"you both ready?” They both gave him a thumbs up signal. Ok, he mouths as he rings the bell “HURRY HURRY FIRE FIRE!!!”
      The caretakers burst out the door and rush down the hall slipping and sliding John acts first and splatters them in glue. After this, India throws the sack as a mass of feather exit out and cover them as they finally crash into a wall in front of the rest of the kids who immediately laugh them, the three kids meet up. “Good job ! You guys,” 
“ heh, we should thank you, Thomas.” John says.“
 "Yeah your the one who came up with it”. Indica said.
 “ true but it was a team effort now let’s see how’re the chickens!”
      the head caretaker was so furious she could make a red chili pepper be jealous by how red her face was. Through a strained voice, she says,
” who did, this? Someone fess up now or you will receive punishment.“
     Every child’s face paled, 
” Thomas, what do we do? I don’t want to be punished. “ John said shakingly,mhm Indica agreed.
 "Go I’ll handle it.” 
“But Thomas, you’ve been whipped more than any of us!” 
     I winced. 
“We can’t let you do it alone.”
 "Listen you two, I’ll be fine Just go, I promise.”
 “We’ll be praying for you,”Indica said, 
“heh thanks”. 
"Well speak!”
 the caretaker said still fuming
 "wow, I didn’t know chickens could talk,”
 “YOU!” She cried. “ did you do this, hm? You heard me! "Oh, I’m sorry I don’t speak chicken.” 
“Di Angelo!” 
“Anyone hear what it’s squawking about cause all I hear is bawk bacawk bawk!” 
     I say as I imitate a chicken though that’s probably an insult to chickens everywhere for me to compare her to them. 
“You..oh I’ll give you one hell of a punishment.” I gave a cocky smirk. 
“Bring it on chicken witch.” She whipped me until night. I walked up to my bed and sat down. “Thomas your back” John said.
 “Yep. What happened? Did it hurt? ” no it was a tickle fight what do you think I thought 
“nope” that’s a straight lie, my back feels like the devil just burned my back with the flames of hell. John still looked worried. “Listen I’m fine. Go to sleep John, alright?” 
“Night Thomas”. The next day~. 
“Hey Thomas John said” 
“hey I said without looking up from my book
 "how come I always see you reading during free time?”
 One I love reading. And two it’s tied to a promise. What’s the promise? "It’s involved in a promise I made a few years ago about how I would become something of myself and prove that witch wrong about me. That I would rise up and become something great.”
 “Heh, when you do , promise you won’t forget about us.” Heh I laughed, I promise, and I’ll tell you this, I never break my promises.“
 "Can I get back to my book now?” 
“Sure” 
     5 years later~ I had a dream right before my 15th birthday. I was in a clear grassy field with a storm raging overhead. Out of the storm cloud an eagle and a hawk flew towards me, and flew in circles around me like they were chasing each other. Between them was a string of electricity. Suddenly, the field caught ablaze and through the flames I saw a figure rise with a dark laughter that sent shivers through my whole body. I felt my head a distant memory, I hid, along time ago. The flames dashed towards me, and I woke up in cold sweat and I felt uneasy like something is about to change greatly. 
     I’m now 15 my hair has grown longer my hair became wavy but just As disheveled as always I think I’m about 5,10 my grey eyes now have hints of blue in them. Now I wear a baggy black shirt with baggy blue jeans and a pair of hand me down sneakers. 
“John,wake up” I shook him. 
“Hm, huh? What?” 
“Get up, Indica you too. She grumbled and threw a pillow in my face.”
 “ what, Thomas?” She said groggily. 
“Today’s the day for a fifth level. They both instantly woke. 
"What!” They yelled in unison. 
“Shhhh.” I said as I held my ears “I’ll tell you the details now”. 
“Thomas are you sure about this John warned” John is also 15 he has brown hair that’s combed to the side, with pale skin and green eyes with 4 freckles on his cheeks he’s wearing a button-up shirt with brown suspenders with brown pants. 
“Yes, i am.  No need to worry,” 
“he’s right Tom,” Indica said. She now has long blonde hair with blue eyes with fair skin and a blue shirt with a black skirt.
 “This could really get you kicked out this time.” “I know, trust me, okay?” “We trust you” 
“good now let’s get to work”. I held up my fingers, “ready?” They nodded. “3…2…1… go!” 
    They rang the bell the caretaker ran out but I set a trip wire this sent her down the stairs in the path of a clown costume then on the next flight make up and a wig on the last flight was a hat and a red rubber nose but that’s not the end. After that, there’s a stopping device that launches her to a mini tricycle that crashes her into a wall, then after that as she tries to lift herself up I t releases paint that paints the whole place in poka dots, and finally she turns around to see everyone with a cream pie. 
“Fire!” I call out and so they relentlessly threw hordes of pies at her. And to deliver the final insult I walk towards her and personally push a pie in her face with happy birthday on it. As the pie falls off her face. 
“This is my best work, thank you being my willing volunteer. ” 
“you,” she grabbed me by the collar, so you like jokes do you? Then be a jester away from me.“
 She drags me to the door and literally throws me out of the orphanage I fall on my butt, ow, for an old hag she sure can kick I hear the door slam shut. Oh crap, i thought.
"Hey old hag can’t you take a joke? I at least gave you breakfast, that had to count for something! Come on let me back in!"She stuck her head out her face was obviously furious her now fully gray hair was covered in a rainbow Afro the many wrinkles on her face were covered in clown makeup with a big bright red smile but her face was scowling. Her hooked nose now had a red rubber nose on it. 
"After this? No way in hell”.
 “Oh before you close the door can I tell you something?” 
“WHAT!” I grabbed her nose and squeezed it. 
“Honk! Honk!“
 She instantly slammed it in my face and I heard a click after it. Heh, I might have went overboard. Well. I dusted myself off I might as well visit the baker. I think they’ll let me stay a little. I said to my self as I started walking. Unbeknownst to the boy there are two people watching him a girl on the roof and a demon in the shadows Chapter 1 FIRE! FIRE! (Yes I’m serious this time)
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goandsavemyunicorn · 8 years ago
Text
Rescue (Dean x Reader one shot)
You feel your soulmate’s physical pain when you aren’t together. When you meet your soulmate, you both get identical marks similar to tattoos on your wrists. (Soulmate AU) This one has been in my drafts a while, so I finished the last little bit and posted. Enjoy!
Warnings: Abuse tw, graphic descriptions of violence, Sam gets nailed in the nuts with a shampoo bottle kinda mediocre fluffy end.
Dean x Reader
~~
(Dean’s pov)
I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling like I’m being beat up by Megatron. The Transformer. This happens at least once a week. My soulmate is either a cage fighter, or a victim of some serious spousal abuse.
“Sammy!”
“What’s up?”
“It’s happening again. Are we sure there’s no way to stop the pain?”
“I can’t find anything, dude. The only thing I can think of is having Cas use some mojo, maybe put some kind of supernatural tracking device on her.”
“Let’s try that. This is the third time this month, and I don’t know if I can take my ribs feeling like they’re cracked any longer. It hurts to breathe.”
“Has it been getting worse?”
“Definitely.”
“I’ll call Cas. Just sit tight, okay?” I nod and lay back down, trying to numb the pain with the bottle of whiskey by my bed.
(Your pov)
I stand still by the door to Sean’s apartment, trying not to make too much noise while he punches me. A blow to my sternum makes me double over, holding in a yell.
“Stand up, bitch!”
“I’m sorry, Sean, I--” He punches my jaw, knocking me over.
“I thought I told you not to flirt with my friends!”
“I wasn’t, he was just helping me carry the groceries in.” I whimper, shrinking away from his clenched fists. Sean sneers at me, then drags me by my hair into the bedroom.
“Just quit bitching and change your clothes. I hate that sweater, you know that.” I nod slightly and pull my hair into a messy bun, then change into a pair of pink pajamas that cover all the bruises not on my face. Sean is in the kitchen, drinking a beer, when I walk back in.
“Dinner.” He snaps, before walking out. I start making grilled chicken and vegetables with wild rice, trying not to make too much noise. I would leave Sean, but every time I try, he drags me right back and the beatings get worse. Never enough to land me in the hospital, but more than enough to lay me up for a few days. Last time I left, he found me within two hours, and by that evening, I was bruised and bloodied so badly I couldn’t open one eye and I could barely breathe.
I put a generous helping of dinner on a plate and carry it out to the living room with a fresh beer, keeping my eyes on the floor. Sean starts chowing down, so I go back to the kitchen and start eating my portion after putting the leftovers in a tupperware container in the fridge. I head to bed when I finish and lay there for a few hours with my book, then set it on the bedside table and turn the lamp off.
Sean comes to bed a while later, smelling of beer and sweat. He falls asleep quickly, and starts snoring almost immediately after. I finally fall asleep around three am, having pulled a little of the blankets back. Around five, I wake up to a searing pain on my wrist, accompanied by a glowing symbol. That’s never happened before, so I’m a little concerned.
I sit up in bed, looking around the dark room. There’s a little light coming in through the curtains, from the streetlamp out front. I look out the window and see a man in a trench coat standing next to the streetlamp, staring up at the building. No, staring at me. Direct eye contact. I step away from the window, hands shaking as I climb back into bed.
(Dean’s pov)
“I found her.” Cas says gruffly, appearing in the middle of the bunker’s library.
“Where?” I stand up quickly, slamming the book in front of me closed.
“In an apartment building in Chicago. I’ll send you the address.” He takes out his phone and starts typing, then puts it back in his pocket. A minute later, my phone buzzes with the message.
“I can get us there in eight hours. Sam, get in the car.” I run to my room and grab my duffel bag, then run to the garage and jump in Baby. We get on the highway and start driving to Chicago, burning rubber the whole way and only stopping a few times for gas.
(Your pov)
I pace the floor of the apartment, looking at the symbol on my wrist. I’m wearing a tank top and leggings with a green cardigan, but no shoes. Sean hates having shoes tracking gunk all over the apartment, so he makes everyone take them off at the door. It’s almost two, which is when Sean usually comes home for lunch. I hurry into the kitchen and start making a sandwich, the kind Sean likes best, and make sure it’s on the table with a soda and a snack bag of his favorite chips right before he walks through the door. He stomps into the kitchen and sits down, totally ignoring me.
I start cleaning up the kitchen, keeping an eye on the window. It’s a beautiful day out, the kind of day I used to use to go for a run. I loved running, but Sean hates it when I come back to the apartment after a good run, covered in sweat. So he made me stop.
I hear a car pull up outside and look down at the street. A big black car parks out front and two men get out, dressed in jeans and flannel shirts. The taller one looks up, spotting me in the window. I lean back and keep washing the dishes, peering over my shoulder at Sean. He’s watching a video on his phone, still ignoring me. I dry my hands on a dishtowel and walk out of the kitchen, making sure the door is locked. Sean follows me, grabbing my upper arm before I get there.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I was making sure the door was locked, Sean. Not going anywhere.” He pulls me up against his chest, twisting my arm.
“Bullshit. You’re not going anywhere.” He drags me to the master bathroom and shoves me inside, locking the door so I can’t open it.
“Sean, I swear, I wasn’t going anywhere, please let me out!”
“You’re staying in there until I get home from work.” He walks away and I hear the apartment door slam, then lock behind him. I swear softly and start looking for a bobby pin to pick the lock with, opening every drawer. No such luck. I sit on the edge of the tub, face in my hands, and try to calm myself down before I have a panic attack from being locked in here.
About three hours later, I hear the apartment door being kicked open, but nobody says anything. Isn’t law enforcement supposed to announce it when they bust in a door? I feel a dull pain in my ankle, then nothing as whoever just broke in starts walking towards the bathroom. My heart rate skyrockets, and I grab the closest thing to use as a weapon, which ends up being a mostly empty shampoo bottle. Very threatening. I pull the shower curtain closed and crouch in the bathtub, taking deep, slow breaths to calm myself down.
The bathroom door splinters as someone kicks it open. The mystery person steps in slowly, then whips the shower curtain to the side. I throw the shampoo bottle as hard as I can, striking the gigantic intruder in the crotch. He groans and bends over, setting a gun on the edge of the sink. I jump out of the bathtub around him and run down the hall, barreling face-first into a second man, who wraps his arms around me. I start struggling and try to scream, but he claps a hand over my mouth before I can make a sound.
“We’re not here to hurt you, calm down!” I bite his hand and struggle more, wincing as my middle finger starts to hurt. “We’re here to help you, and if you’ll stop biting and kicking me, I’ll let go.” I let go of his finger and hold still, waiting for him to set me down. The giant from the bathroom comes into the hallway, tucking his gun into his belt. The one holding me lets me go, stepping back to look at me.
“So. How are you two going to help me?” I pull my sweater closed around me, shivering.
“I’m your soulmate.”
“My what?!”
“Soulmate? Come on, you have to know about the pain thing. You feel all of your soulmate’s physical pain when you aren’t together. Look.” He walks out of the apartment and down the hall, then I feel a pinch on my arm.
“Ow.” He walks back in, smirking.
“See?” He grins at me and waves at the giant, who goes into the bedroom.
“Not convinced.” He chuckles and pulls his left sleeve up, exposing his wrist. There��s a tiny silhouette of a raven; I pull my own sleeve up and see my own identical mark right beside my pulse point.
“I’m Dean, by the way. Sasquatch over there is my brother, Sam. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”
“You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He’ll find me. And the beatings will get worse.”
“He won’t find you when you’re with us. I promise.” He smiles slightly and reaches out to hug me, but stops when I flinch away. Sam walks out a minute later with my suitcase, smiling.
“I think I got all your stuff. There wasn’t a lot.”
“The rest is in a box in the basement storage unit.” I say, tugging at the sleeves on my sweater. Dean nods and takes my hand, leading me towards the door. I grab my shoes on the way out and slip them on on the stairs, leading Dean and Sam down to the basement four stories below.
“Why are we on the stairs?”
“Sean always takes the elevator.” I keep going, skipping every other step until we reach the basement door. It opens silently, and I punch the lock code in for the storage unit. We’re in and out in less than five minutes with my box, and Dean holds my hand all the way out to the car. Right as we get to the car, a taxi drives up and Sean gets out.
He sees me cowering behind Dean and drops his briefcase before lunging at him with a furious yell. Sam grabs Sean’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. Sean starts swinging at Sam, yelling that he can’t take me. Dean sets my box on the back seat of the car and reaches for his gun, glaring at Sean as Sam dodges another punch.
“How long have you been beating her, you son of a bitch?” Sean glares at him intensely, a look I’ve only seen twice. Once before he choked me out after I kept making excuses, and once when he almost killed a guy in a bar for looking at me. I push Dean to the side and stand in front of him, glaring at Sean.
“Don’t.”
“You’re mine, dammit!”
“No, I am not.” I step forward, trying to keep my hands from shaking by clenching them into fists. He grabs my shoulder tightly, putting a lot of pressure on my collarbone. I slap his hand away, and he shoves me to the ground. A sickening crack echoes through the air, and blinding pain shoots up my right arm. Dean yells at Sean, leaning over me with a worried look on his face. Sam swings at Sean’s face, hitting him directly in the jaw. Sean hits the ground next to me as Dean lifts me onto my feet, being careful not to touch my arm.
“Hospital. You’ve got bones sticking out of your arm.” I turn to look at it, but he stops me before I can.
“Why, think a girl can’t look at a little blood?” I mumble, closing my eyes.
“I think you can definitely handle blood, but the bone is sticking out and it’s kinda gross.” Dean chuckles, getting into the passenger side of the car with me in his arms. Sam gets in the driver’s seat and we peel away from the curb, speeding to the nearest hospital.
“We’re taking you directly into surgery.” The doctor says, as he’s putting a syringe full of something clear into my IV. “This should knock you right out, and you’ll be all fixed up in just a few hours.” Dean kisses my forehead as I drift off, patting my not broken arm.
I wake up with bandages covering most of my arm, feeling a little woozy. Dean is sitting beside my bed, holding a bag with my clothes in his lap. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes with my good hand. The doctor hands me a cup full of pills and some water, smiling at me.
“Take those, then we can release you within an hour.” He hands Dean a few pill bottles and some papers before walking away to check on another patient. When they finally release me, it’s dark outside and a little chilly. Dean notices I’m shivering, and drapes his jacket over my shoulders while we wait for Sam in the ER pickup zone.
The two men help me into the car and get me buckled in and blanketed up, then we drive away. I fall asleep after a couple hours of driving, using Dean’s jacket as a pillow. I wake up to the sun shining into the backseat as Dean drives down a little dirt road, and Sam looks over his shoulder at me.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”
“Where are we?”
“Almost home. We’ve got about two miles to go.” Dean says proudly, looking in his mirror at me.
“I’m hungry.”
“We’ve got food there, I’ll scare up some breakfast, okay?”
“Okay.” I sit up slowly, pushing my hair out of my eyes. Dean keeps driving, until we pull into a massive garage, full of vintage cars and motorcycles. The three of us go inside and Sam gets me set up in a plain bedroom across the hall from Dean’s while Dean disappears to the kitchen.
Two months later, my arm is totally healed and only has a little scarring. I’m still sleeping in a separate room from Dean, but spend most of my time with him anyway.
~~
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doffies · 8 years ago
Text
title: for want of a storm
summary: For want of a storm, a ship was sunk. For want of a ship, a sacrifice was made. For want of a sacrifice, a different story was told.
warnings: cursing, death, and mentions of food.
author’s notes: another ‘for want of a nail’ fanfic, ive had this idea rolling around my head for a couple of years now, and its only recently that ive finally made a decent prologue for it. i’ll be posting this on both ao3/ff.net later maybe
if u wanna review or leave a comment i love rbs or replies!!! i love ppl talking to me basically
Alvida had completely obliterated the precious dinghy Coby had painstakingly built from scratch in a fit of rage, and he, a simple cabin boy who wanted nothing more than to avoid getting maced, just couldn’t help but make it a thousand times worse.
“A-Alvida is… Alvida… She’s…”
“…THE UGLIEST DAMN BITCH!”
And to think, he had been so careful before.
Apologizing if Alvida so much as stared in his direction, bowing his head whenever the pirate passed by, even taking the initiative to swab the boat front to back five times in the row until the mace-wielding captain was satisfied. He would’ve humiliated himself a thousand times over if it meant keeping himself alive.
Yet here he was, throwing his life away on a stupid, momentary whim.  
I don’t mind dying for my dreams.
…well, he supposed it wasn’t all that stupid.
What was the point of having a dream if you weren’t willing to give everything up for it?
That was what a certain straw-hatted pirate had told him as he shoved the doomed cabin boy away from the descending iron mace, flashing the same fearless grin Coby envied as he faced the massive weapon head-on.
He expected the familiar sound of bones breaking under Alvida’s deadly swing, but a far more different noise rung out as the mace made contact with the man’s head.
Boing.
Coby blinked once. Alvida blinked twice. Her cronies didn’t blink at all.
“It’s useless against me,” the supposed victim breathed, head steadily stretching downwards as the mace pressed against the unhuman-like skin,
“BECAUSE I’M RUBBER!”
And just like that, the mace sprung back. Alvida gawked, stepping back in utter shock as her target suddenly launched his arms backwards, reaching an impressive length as he stared back at his mystified attacker.
“Gum-Gum…”
The Alvida pirates all but screamed while their former cabin boy looked on in awe. He realized right then and then he no longer needed to fear Alvida’s unpredictable bouts of rage, the constant harassment of the other pirates, the endless bathroom cleaning…
Coby was truly free.
“PISTOL!”
Even as the unmistakable sound of a jaw breaking echoed throughout the forest, the spectacled boy grinned, blobs of happy tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. His newfound friend huffed, watching the defeated woman fall hard onto the forest floor as his own arms slapped back into place. He gestured at the pirates watching on in horror.
“Prepare a boat for Coby! He wants to join the Marines, so stay outta his way!”
It was then that Coby began to cry, despite himself. The man in front of him was everything he aspired to be – everything he could be if he truly wanted to. Becoming the Marine of his dreams was no longer an unattainable pipe dream.
“Luffy…”
He smiled, knowing right then and there that the rubber man was going to achieve everything he wanted, and then some.
“Thank you.”
“It seems as though the pieces have finally been set in motion.”
Face impassive as he observed the arrangement of tarot cards scattered across the table’s wooden surface, the blonde let out a despondent sigh of annoyance.
He supposed it could be considered a blessing that things would finally start to move along in accordance to fate, but with the sense of complacency that fell upon him during his last reading, he found it hard to care.
There was no use fighting destiny.
The cards had already been set long ago, and all he could do was read them.
“Sweetheart, you still in there?”
Glancing towards the counter, the man acknowledged the woman frowning back at him with a small nod. She smiled a little at the wordless response.
“It’s about time for Helmeppo’s usual parading, and I don’t want him coming in here and executing one of my best waiters.”
Despite the joking tone, her expression held a hint of anxiousness. She wasn’t really kidding, after all.
Not wanting to overcomplicate things, the blonde dipped his head in understanding. Gathering the cards as he stood up, the woman watched with a small sense of fondness as her employee carefully wiped off the table he had just been using.
As she hurried the blonde outside, eyeing the familiar marine entourage approaching from a distance, she muttered, “With that way that Helmeppo carries himself, you’d be hard-pressed not to mistake him as a noble.”
The blonde twitched, hand instinctively reaching out to scratch at his back.
“Hm.���
“Captain Buggy’s gonna have a field day when he takes a gander at our haul!”
Cackling as he ran his fingers through the gold coins piled inside the treasure, the toque-wearing pirate held up a particularly sparkly-looking set of pearl necklaces to the morning sun. “Who would have thought that such a small ship could carry so much loot?”
Balancing a gold crown on his oversized hair, the man with disproportionally large earrings rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. “Maybe Captain Buggy’ll reward us! Move over Mohji and Cabaji, us three will be in the boss’s favor now!”
The trio laughed boisterously, stopping only when the bearded of the three point out the small ship bobbing only a small distance away. Encouraged by the thought of even more treasure, the pirates hungrily paddled over without a care in the world.
Upon reaching the boat, the men quickly realized it was abandoned with nothing but a large treasure chest, practically begging to be opened and stolen from. Seeing no reason to resist the allure of riches, all three men climbed aboard the small dinghy.
As the boat shifted under their weight, a steady stream of bubbles rose from the waves behind them.
In just thirty seconds, the three men were gone from the dinghy, replaced by a masked man lazily wiping the bloodied blades connected to his wrist with a whistle. A new treasure chest brimming with bright jewelry and gold coins sat beside him.
Humming, he brought up the reflective metal to his face, taking in the striped cyan mask staring back at him.
Soon.
 “Damn it, where the hell’s the waitress?!”
Slamming down a loaded wok in frustration, the chef all but lost it as he threw down his hat. “This is the third time a damn customer followed up on an order! Where the hell are all the meals going?! I can’t prepare the same goddamn fillet mignon five times in a row!”
“You think you have problems, pal?!” Another chef dumped a stack of plates into the washer, unaffected by the shattering that promptly followed. “I finish cooking up a five-course meal, but the second my back’s turned, poof! It disappears!”
“Yeah? Try losing all your ingredients before you even start trying to make the damn dish!”
“How about finding out you’ve been cooking the wrong slop because of crap handwriting?!”
“Losing half the broth of my goddamn soup every time I turn around?!”
“Finding half-eaten chicken legs where our damn daily special’s supposed to be?!”
“Oh, those?”
All conversation stopped as the chefs instantly turned their attention to the revolving doors leading to the dining hall. Noisily chewing on what used to be glazed ribs, the pink-haired waitress in question shrugged at the dark looks being sent her way.
“I ate them. Sorry ‘bout that.”
The customers inside the dining hall quietly snickered in amusement as the kitchen exploded into a chorus of angry screams and hollers.
Just another day in the Baratie.
He wasn’t lost, he was just searching for a worthy opponent.
That was what a certain green-haired swordsman told himself as he strolled along the foggy streets of a certain town, free hand clasped around a sword’s hilt as he eyed the townspeople happily going about their day around him.
It had been a boring week so far. He wandered around aimlessly from his village (not lost, of course) and ended up on a boat to a small island village, (which he inadvertently ended up saving after cutting down a certain black-haired butler in a spontaneous fit of bloodlust) then got on another boat that wrecked itself on another island full of strange creatures, (he helped one in particular reach the treasure it had apparently been protecting for years, only to find the chests empty in a scene that still made the swordsman wince) before finally making it to the town he currently found himself.
He was originally planning on staying for just a day or so, but after he heard of a shop offering a cursed sword, he promptly made up his mind to spend the last of the money he made during his bout as a bounty hunter to purchase this apparently deadly sword.
Unfortunately however, he had very little luck finding said shop, despite his lengthy stay of a month in the town.
Not that it mattered. He was going to find this elusive shop soon. He could just feel it.
Nodding to himself as he passed by a red-nosed man polishing a sword just outside his shop with a massive red sign reading “SWORDS FOR SALE”, the (not lost) swordsman grinned to himself.
He was definitely on the right track.
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