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#we still tryin to find a au name
galacii-gallery · 1 year
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behold,,,, he,,,,
he’s for a au that’s in progress grejgnre
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ceilidho · 7 days
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take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)
first chapter >> last chapter
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Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.
By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.
 The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down. 
But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.
The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you. 
You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep. 
“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.
After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”
Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”
“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”
“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue. 
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”
The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”
You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.  
A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.
When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up. 
“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”
You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out. 
The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false. 
Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again. 
“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”
You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.
It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot. 
You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind. 
John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you. 
A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky. 
You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt? 
You don’t think you can.
Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them. 
Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.
It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night. 
When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.  
“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”
It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office. 
You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.
Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it. 
“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”
On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too. 
“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck. 
It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name. 
You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you. 
“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you. 
Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.
You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before. 
Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work. 
Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.
The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air. 
Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.
Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous. 
When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside. 
The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey. 
You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”
She puffs out a breath.
That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now. 
Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west. 
“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.
You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains. 
As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time. 
An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.
That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you. 
The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.
Then, from behind you, you hear it. 
The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line. 
The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead. 
The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride. 
Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip. 
John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out. 
Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you. 
Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off. 
“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves. 
A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.
“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly. 
You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath. 
When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane. 
Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him. 
“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”
The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs. 
“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.
“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth. 
You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.  
It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town. 
You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock. 
“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”
Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back. 
“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail. 
You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself. 
He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone. 
John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”
The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!” 
“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it. 
When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up. 
You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.
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saigethearies · 7 months
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saige’s terrortober presents…
trust me
while on an expedition into space, your budding romance with osamu came as a pleasant surprise- the murderer hiding amongst your crew, not so much.
alien!osamu miya x fem!reader
contents/warnings: murder, manipulation, and slight yandere, side character deaths, service dom!osamu, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), size kink, osamu is PACKING, praise, belly bulge, dacryphilia, use of pet names, betrayal, angst in the end, osamu still has his dyed hair but he’s in his twenties, this is basically an among us au bare with me
wc: 6.7k
18+ MINORS DNI
an: this one is posted a little late but it works out so it gets to be posted on samu’s actual bday!
“the fuck you mean you found a dead body?” terushima bites out from next to you.
your brain felt like it was lagging as panicked voices sounded off around you. there was no way one of your crewmates was dead. you’d all had multiple health screenings before getting admission into the space exploration program. no one would have gotten the green light if they were in bad health, so how could they just have died? and within the first week?
unless…
“there were multiple stab wounds,” director takeda said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible to prevent the surrounding tension from worsening. “as of right now, we can only assume it was a homicide.”
the room fell silent as everyone let the news sink in.
“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” a voice drawls from across the circular table. “we’re stuck on this floatin’ hunk of metal and we’ve gotta damn killer on the loose?”
atsumu miya had a scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest.
“if that’s the case then we need to start narrowing suspects down now,” oikawa followed up. “someone in this room is a murderer, unless we have a stowaway hiding somewhere.”
“security is top notch, there’s no way someone would have been able to sneak on,” kanoka rebutted.
“well then,” daishou started. “it’s time to start hearing some alibis.”
“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.
“i can vouch, i was in the room with him,” oikawa added, the other nodding in agreement.
one by one, all of your crewmates stated where they were, what they were doing, who they were with.
“i was in navigation with the twins trying to get the ship back on course,” suna said. “since dumb and dumber decided it would be a good idea to push a bunch of random buttons.”
“i was tryin’ t’ find the air conditionin’!”
“don’t rope me in with his bullshit,” osamu miya muttered from besides his brother.
you spared a quick glance at the grey-haired man. out of all the people on the ship, he seemed to be the one you always found your eyes wandering to.
“where were you?”
the question pulled you back into focus. you turned to see terushima staring down at you, awaiting your response.
“i was reading some samples in med bay.”
his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”
you blinked. no, no one saw you, but that’s because you were the only scientist hired on with a medical background. most of your time in med bay was spent alone.
would that make you look suspicious?
you figured that honesty was the best policy, so you went ahead and told the truth.
“no, i was there alone- but no one else is ever really in there unless they need treatment or need to run an errand, if that makes any difference.”
“so what i’m hearing is that you don't have a solid alibi.”
you felt your hands start to shake. “i-i guess not…”
“let’s hear where the hell yer ass was, terushima.”
the two of you turned to see osamu’s dark grey eyes trained on the man interrogating you. the intensity in them almost sent a chill down your spine.
“ya seem desperate t’ go ahead and put blame on the lil’ lady without even giving yer own alibi yet.”
was he defending you?
terushima sent him a glare. “i was emptying the trash in storage. daishou saw me when he passed by.”
a furrow appeared on said man’s brow. “uh, hate to say it man, but i don’t remember seeing you there.”
“the hell do you mean? you literally walked right by me!”
“the only people i remember seeing before the emergency alarm sounded off was kanoka and the director in shields. i was dropping off some supplies for them.”
“you can’t be serious right now!”
“well look who doesn't have a solid alibi now,” atsumu taunted. “it seems t’ me like yer dejectin’-”
“projecting,” suna corrected.
“-projectin’ onto someone else because ya don’t wanna look guilty.”
“you’re trying to imply that i did this?” terushima shouted.
“if the shoe fits.”
“that’s enough,” director takeda declares, getting the bickering to subside before it could escalate further. “we don’t need to jump to conclusions and we don’t need to fall into hysteria, either. making a rash decision based on little evidence won’t help anything. the body was found near the reactors, so on the complete opposite side of the ship from where everyone allegedly was. Therefore, we don't really have any leads at the moment.”
“so what do we do?” asahi asked, anxiety written all over his face.
“for now, everyone just stay alert and on guard. try to stay in groups or at least pairs if you can. i don’t think the killer will lash out if more than one person is around, and if worst comes to worst, we’d at least be able to pick out who was with who. if you do notice anything suspicious about a fellow crewmate, come report to me directly. rumors will only cause trouble. understood?”
everyone gave their confirmation, you barely being able to mutter yours out.
there was really a killer amongst your ranks.
you were stuck on a ship traveling further into outer space with a murderer.
“good. meeting adjourned, everyone back to your tasks.”
you turned back towards med bay, practically moving on autopilot as your mind picked apart every piece of information you just received.
“i find it interesting that the person closest to the reactors at the time of the murder was you. that is, if your story was even true”
the voice was followed by a hand roughly grabbing onto your arm, halting your retreat. you turned to see terushima’s glare trained on you, his grip tightening. “everyone else might be letting your shitty alibi slide, but i'm not.”
“your own alibi wasn’t even solid,” you argued back, trying to wrench free from his grasp. “you don't have any right to accuse me, if anything i could be saying the same things to you right now.”
“you’re a lot more combative than you were a few minutes ago. i guess you dropped the quiet, innocent girl act now that we're not surrounded by others, right?”
you wanted to deck this guy. how dare he continue to try and accuse you of one thing after another when you haven't done anything wrong. especially after his own shaky alibi had been exposed.
“that’s not the case at all, i just don’t like to be bothered by a hypocrite!”
“i’ll show you a fucking-”
“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”
osamu was at your side before you could even register. while the expression on his face seemed blank, terushima could see the silent fire raging within his eyes, practically challenging him to try and disobey the grey-haired man’s order.
still, the shorter man made no move to release you, which prompted your unexpected savior to speak again.
“if i have t’ tell ya twice, yer not gonna like what happens next.”
with that, terushima finally released you. he scoffed before turning to storm out of the room.
you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.
“ya alright, there?”
looking up you met the dark, concerned eyes of osamu. the contact had the inside of your stomach turning into an ocean, waves swirling around within you as you held his gaze.
“i’m okay, thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks heating up. “he seemed relentless, so i really do appreciate you stepping in.”
a smile then appeared on osamu’s face, and you wanted to burn the image into your memory forever because goodness did that man look handsome.
“it’s no worries, my ma taught me better than t’ just stand by when a lady’s ‘n trouble.”
you felt the corners of your own lips curl upwards. “well then she did a really great job.”
“how ‘bout i walk ya back to med bay,” he offered. “director said we needa stick together, wouldn’t feel right if i just let ya wander off alone.”
the waves inside your stomach felt as if they were growing to tsunami-level proportions. you had clearly noticed that osamu was a handsome man the day the crew was all introduced to each other, but you reasoned that you had a job to do on this ship so you couldn’t let yourself get distracted by what was essentially a schoolgirl crush.
now, however, the person of your attraction was guiding you through the halls with a large hand placed on the small of your back.
“i feel like we’re ‘n the start of’a nightmare,” osamu said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “can’t believe shunki got offed by someone on the damn crew.”
“yeah, it’s insane,” you replied. “i still can’t really wrap my head around it.”
“ ‘m sure that terushima jackass barkin’ atcha hasn't made it any easier for ya, huh?”
you sighed. “no, but i guess he does have somewhat of a reason. my alibi can't be corroborated by anyone. besides, nerves are running rampant right now, so i can't really blame him.”
the two of you reached med bay, osamu reaching for the handle and opening the door before you could even lift a finger. he was every bit as chivalrous as he was handsome, your knees feeling slightly weaker as he ushered you inside.
“well i think his reason for comin’ atcha was bullshit. he doesn’t have a solid story, either, so his whole outburst is rubbin’ me the wrong way. be careful ‘round him, will ya?”
the thought had crossed your mind during your earlier altercation with terushima. you knew you weren’t a killer, but him? it could be entirely plausible that a murderer had just been laying his hands on you. if osamu hadn’t come to your aid…
“i’ll try and steer clear of him,” you replied. “thank you again, osamu. i appreciate it, really.”
“of course,” he replied with a smile coming back onto his face. “and you can call me ‘samu.”
returning his kind expression, you nodded your head before turning to grab the samples you were working with earlier.
“anythin’ i can help ya with while ‘m here?”
“you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, walking me back was already sweet enough of you.”
“nah, we gotta stay ‘n pairs, remember? can’t let ya just sit here by yerself with a killer on the ship.”
by the look on his face, you could tell osamu wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you relented by pointing to the wireless connection panel on the wall across from you.
“i think that could use some maintenance.”
_____
while very tense, the next few days were quiet. no more killings, no odd behavior from anyone- besides terushima’s rotten attitude towards you, but at this point you were just getting used to it. everyone was taking it day by day, each uneventful twenty-four hours being looked at as a win. crew morale was constantly wavering, however. it was hard to feel confident in your coworkers when one of them was secretly a murderer.
your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.
he continued to spend hours at a time with you in med bay, your once silent workplace now filled with chatter and laughter. when it came time for him to leave to go attend to other tasks, you would often tag along.
“buddy system, right?” he would say.
atsumu and suna would also occasionally find themselves keeping the two of you company in med bay. watching the three of them banter was probably the best entertainment you were going to get on the spacecraft. with the way the dark-haired man interacted with the twins you would think that they’ve all known each other for a very long time, so you were surprised to learn that they’d only just met at the start of the expedition.
“it literally reminds me of mustard,” suna remarked, earning a burst of laughter from osamu.
“shut yer trap, sunarin!”
“did you just not think to use toner?”
“there is nothin’ wrong with my hair!” atsumu defended.
the bickering had been going on for the past five minutes, suna always finding a way to goad the blonde into being his personal entertainment. he almost had a talent for being able to get under either of the twin’s skin, antagonizing them almost as much as they antagonize each other.
“if yer worried ‘bout what's wrong with ya then yer hair is the least of yer worries,” osamu piped up, earning a small giggle from you. you were too engrossed in recording your sample data to notice the content smile come onto the grey-haired man’s face at hearing your laugh.
he came up behind you, leaning down so that his head was hovering above your shoulder. “what ya got goin’ on here?”
you kept your face turned down towards your desk, not wanting him to catch onto the way your cheeks were heating up at his close proximity. “just going over the results from asahi’s blood test.”
it was no doubt to you that after spending so much time together, there was…something brewing between you and osamu. at first you figured it was just physical attraction, but the more you were around him, the more you began to realize that wasn’t the case.
you felt a comfort with the man you hadn’t felt with anyone else before- not any of your friends, not any of your exes, not even your family. there was no denying that there was a genuine connection there, and whether you were falling for him so quickly because of the circumstances or because you were truly that into him, you didn’t know.
and it didn’t really matter to you, either. every day on this spaceship could end up being your last, so you chose not to waste your time overthinking.
“need any help?”
“no, but thank you, ‘samu. you're always so considerate.”
before he could reply, kissy noises were sounding off from the other two occupants in the room. the glare osamu sent atsumu and suna would probably have most peoples’ stomachs dropping, but the two of them seemed unfazed.
it was then that a red flash illuminated the room, a harsh buzz ripping through the air.
the emergency alarm.
you dropped your pen.
“dammit!” atsumu yelled. “not another murder!”
a hand was placed on the small of your back, guiding you to stand on unsteady legs. “don’t jump t’ conclusions, we don’t know fer sure.”
“well what else would it be?” suna asked.
you began to move towards the door, osamu’s palm not leaving your body.
“i guess we should go find out,” you muttered.
the walk was silent, the once tense atmosphere of the ship now suffocating as days after days worth of anxiety had come to a crescendo. the four of you waited as the cafeteria doors slid open, revealing the rest of your crewmates gathered around the meeting table.
well, all of them except one.
not again…
once you had all gathered around, director takeda spoke the words you’d been dreading to hear since the adjournment of the last meeting.
“another body has been found.”
silence.
“oikawa and asahi found daishou in the electrical room. he wasn’t moving and they couldn’t find a pulse.”
“that’s right around the corner from where the last body was found,” kanoka observed.
“on the same side as med bay,” terushima muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
you frowned. “can you at least wait until we get all the details before you try and start accusing me?”
“why? we’re already two men down, we can’t let this shit just slide again.”
“we won’t,” takeda firmly interjected. “there were several small bruises on daishou’s neck, so it seems that his cause of death was asphyxiation.”
“so whoever did this was able to choke a grown a man to death with their bare hands,” oikawa observed.
“wouldn’t that mean we have the culprit’s fingerprints?” you asked.
“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”
“damn,’ asahi sighed.
“well if they killed the poor guy with their bare hands then i really don’t think it could be the lil’ lady,” atsumu commented.
“yeah, ya really think these tiny ass fingers could choke a man?” osamu added, lifting your hand up to prove his point. your stomach fluttered when you saw how huge his looked compared to yours.
“here the two of you go fucking defending her again,” terushima barked. “she didn’t even have an alibi last time!”
“neither did you,” suna said.
“yeah, and this time all three of us were with her,” osamu motioned between him, his brother, and their friend. “so she has the damn alibi yer so bent over.”
“okay, so we know oikawa and asahi were together again, then the four of them were with each other,” kanoka listed. “i was checking oxygen levels with the director.”
all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.
“terushima, where were you?”
the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”
“did anyone see you?”
“i-uh, well no, everyone was off doing other things.”
director takeda frowned. “so you have no one to confirm your whereabouts?”
“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.
the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.
“since he mentioned it already, wasn’t daishou the one who denied being able to verify terushima’s story last time? and now he’s dead, too.”
everyone went quiet at suna’s observation, terushima’s eyes widening.
“are you seriously implying that i fucking did this?”
“the evidence isn’t really pointing towards anyone else right now,” kanoka said slowly.
“what the fuck.”
“everyone else has alibis,” oikawa said, prepared to lay the facts on the table.”you’re the only one who’s been unaccounted for both times, and you have a possible motive for the most recent killing. no one else has the cards stacked against them like this.”
terushima looked around the table, everyone regarding him with a careful, withdrawn look.
“guys, come on!”
director takeda took a slow breath. “i’m sorry, terushima. but we’ve already lost two lives, and right now you’re the only suspect. we have to do what’s best for the crew.”
“fuck you,” he bit out, practically snarling. “fuck all of you! what are you gonna do now, shoot me?”
“no,” his superior said slowly.
“the ship has come equipped with a different way to handle violent members.”
_____
never in a million years would you have thought that what director takeda meant is that terushima would get ejected. thrown out into deep space to choke and freeze.
it felt so cruel and unusual. yet, your boss insisted that this was the best way to go about it. keeps the threat away without needing anyone to bloody their own hands.
you tried to take his word for it, but you still couldn’t help but feel that there had to have been a better method.
thankfully, the relief of the murder mystery being solved was enough to keep you from dwelling on it for too long. the atmosphere on the ship was light again, everyone more lively and talkative. there was still an underlying somberness held for those departed, but no more going through the day with bated breath.
well, almost.
you still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was…off.
as if your ship’s little mystery had been solved almost too easily. too conveniently.
“what’s wrong?”
osamu’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, standing at the entryway to your sleeping quarters.
“oh! hey,” you said, getting up from your desk. you had to crane your neck so much to look up at him. you tried to ignore how that fact made your heart skip.
as if he could read your thoughts, the grey-haired man brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ya didn’t answer me.”
you gave him a small smile. “i’m okay, ‘samu, just tired.”
he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”
a sigh escaped your lips. “i guess i’m just a little overwhelmed. i’m glad we found terushima out and all, but this whole ordeal has just felt like…a lot. and i think i've been struggling to calm down again, after things were so tense for a while.”
“i don’t like seein’ ya this worried, pretty girl like ya shouldn’t be frettin’ over a thing.”
the comment didn’t catch you completely off guard. osamu had started to become a little more flirtatious, but you always figured it wasn’t that serious. probably just a way for him to be affectionate.
as his dark eyes bore into you right now, however, you started to think that might not be the case.
“i’m okay, really.”
the hand that had brushed your hair away hadn’t left your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.
“i can see yer face lookin’ all gloomy,’ he said, moving closer to you. “c’mon, darlin’, talk to me.”
you took a deep, steadying breath. “i just want a break from all the stress.”
his hands were then roaming your back, pulling you into his chest. his lips found themselves at the shell of your ear.
“then let me take care of ya, sweetheart.”
the sexual tension building up over the past week came to boiling point when osamu’s lips slotted against yours, desire spilling over the sides and shrouding each of you in a cloud of desire. he started to press more firmly, tongue sliding in between the seam of your mouth.
he broke away from you. “ ‘s this alright?”
you nodded, eyes wide, before osamu’s lips chased after yours again, hand coming to the zipper of your pink bodysuit. he dragged it down slowly, revealing more of your skin inch by inch.
stepping out of the material, you stood before him in your matching set.
“so damn beautiful.”
you placed your hands on the back of his neck, eyes staring up at him doefully. “wanna see you too, ‘samu.”
“whatever ya want, darlin’.”
he peeled off his own bodysuit next, grey in color, and was left in just his briefs. gently leading you back towards your bed, he laid you down slowly.
kissing you once more, osamu started to move down your body, leaving little pecks against your heated skin in his wake.
“what are you doing?”
“i told ya i was gonna take care of ya, sweetheart.”
he pressed a kiss below your belly button, fingers gripping the hem of your panties. he glanced towards your face, chest tightening at the sight of your lust-blown expression, waiting for your okay. you nodded, and thus osamu peeled the lace off.
grabbing the underside of each of your thighs, he spread them open. kissing the inner part of each of them, his lips then finally descended onto your glistening cunt.
“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.
he smirked, tongue grazing up and down your sensitive nub. the sensation had you mewling, fingers tangling into his dyed locks. your sounds made osamu smirk against you, adding two fingers into your cunt in hopes he’d hear even more.
the muscle started to move against your clit faster, mouthing against it like he was starved. another finger was then pressed into your pussy. you weren’t used to being stretched that much.
“too much,” you whined out. “ ‘s too much.”
“ya need t’ take it, sweet thing. if yer gonna take my dick later, ya need this.”
you felt your breath catch, the thought of being filled by him leading the heat in your stomach to start building.
finally hitting his fingers against that spongy spot deep within your walls, a cry ripped from you as he started to put all of his focus there. your legs were starting to shake, so osamu decided now was the time to switch up the motion of his tongue, drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.
you spasmed as your orgasm tore through you, whimpers leaving your lips as pleasure overtook every nerve within you.
osamu removed his mouth and fingers from you, inching back up your body before hovering over you.
“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”
you felt his thick fingers creep behind your back, undoing your bra. his eyes drank in the sight of your tits as he pulled the garment off of you.
kisses and bites were littered along your chest, small praises whispered between each. his lips moved back up your neck, leaving a final peck on the tip of your nose before speaking.
“ya think yer ready?”
you knew what he was talking about, nodding your head vigorously, excited to be able to feel all of him.
however, all of that excitement left your body when he finally removed his boxers.
oh…
you should have known. osamu’s whole frame was big and broad. why would his cock be any different?
god, would that even fit? none of your past boyfriends even came close to his size.
he must’ve seen your face grow pale. “what’s the matter, darlin’?”
you gulped.
“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”
“it will,” he replied, not even seeming fazed by your concern. “trust me.”
“but-”
“ya trust me, right?”
his gaze was zeroed in on yours, and you felt yourself become transfixed by just how endless it seemed, as if the space surrounding your little floating ship existed in osamu’s eyes.
“yeah, i trust you.”
another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”
his thumb was at your clit again, an attempt to distract you from the head of his cock pressing against your opening. he began to push in, a small whimper leaving your lips as you could already feel the burning stretch.
“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”
more kisses were then peppered against your lips, silent reassurances as osamu entered into you further, each new inch making your brain feel as if it was going to explode.
“little cunt ain’t used t’ takin’ somethin’ this big, huh?”
you shook your head, confirming his suspicion as tears started to leak from your eyes.
“well, first time fer everythin’, sweetheart.”
you had no idea how he got the whole thing to fit inside of you. your pussy felt as if it was being torn apart at the seams in the best way possible, jaw going slack as he bottomed out.
“oh.”
osamu hummed. “tightest cunt i’ve ever been ‘n. yer just a dream, aintcha?”
you wanted to reply to his praise, but all that could leave you was a scream as he started to pull out and push back in. starting a steady pace, the man pulled you into a hungry kiss.
never before had you ever been so filled, moaning aimlessly into his mouth as the only thought your brain could come up with was so full, so full, so full.
he parted from your lips.
“ya feel it, darlin’?”
you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until he thrusted back in, palm coming down against a protrusion in your tummy. the realization had more drops falling down your cheeks, babbles bubbling up your throat. he was going to rip you apart, and you were more than willing to let him.
“ ‘m gettin’ close,” he warned, forehead resting against yours. his hands then grabbed each side of your hips, holding you in place as he picked up the pace. “need ya t’ cum too, doll. ladies first.”
your cunt finally couldn’t take anymore battering, muscles spasming as you came hard on osamu’s cock. you saw him grin as your body shook, finally allowing himself to release with a low groan.
he made sure to pull out of your overstuffed pussy before you could get too stimulated, situating himself at your side so he could pull you into his chest. you rested your cheek against his pec.
stillness overtook the room as you tried to compose yourself, body still twitching with aftershocks.
osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.
“i told ya i’d make it work. see, ya can trust me.”
_____
the next twenty four hours were absolute bliss. you and osamu were practically connected at the hip, all ooey gooey and lovey dovey with each other. atsumu and suna made gagging sounds every time they saw the two of you, but neither of you cared. nothing was going to ruin the oasis you’d built with one other.
the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.
your eyebrows knitted together, pulling away from your lover’s side as you heard the sound pierce the content silence you’d been sitting in.
the uneasy feeling from before, the feeling that something still just wasn’t right came back to you.
“it might just be some mechanical issues,” osamu reassured, clearly trying to calm you down. you met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the expression in them. it was hard to read, but you just chalked it up to him being antsy, too.
“hopefully.”
the broken, bloodied glasses of director takeda proved the two of you wrong.
oikawa held them in the palm of his hand, a grim look on his face.
“he was in navigation,” he started. “i could barely even recognize him, that’s how bad the damage was.”
you couldn’t stop your lip from wobbling. your nightmare was still ongoing, and now the one person who kept you all sane had been beaten into his grave.
what came next broke you even more, though.
“kanoka is dead, too.”
two murders.
two murders on the same damn day.
you bit your lip, keeping your cries as silent as you could as the news settled.
suna was the first to speak. “do we need to move their bodies out of there, and give them a nicer…resting place, like the others?”
“that’s the thing,” oikawa’s tone now had an edge to it. “kanoka’s body wasn’t with the director’s, it was in lower engine.”
“so what does that mean?” you said, frustration starting to prick at you. “the killer moved her body? or had enough time to get from one crime scene to the other?”
“no,” asahi said. “oikawa was across the hall cleaning the air filters when he heard crashing in navigation. he remembered the time was around 7:30 pm. i was checking the reactor when i heard kanoka scream, and the clock on it read 7:27 pm.”
“ya mean t’ tell me they were killed at the same time ‘n opposite sides of the ship? how the hell is that possible?”
“is the answer not obvious?” oikawa bit out at atsumu. “there’s two fucking killers, and it has to be one of you four!”
“one of us?” you said in disbelief.
“yes!”
“wait a damn minute,” osamu started. “ya mean t’ tell us that if there’s two killers, it has t’ be two of us? not the two of ya, who’ve been stickin’ together since the beginnin’?”
“what ‘samu said! y’all have always been each other’s alibis, ya could have been bullshittin’ us the whole time!”
atsumu had a point. oikawa and asahi always being each other’s alibis would have been one thing when there was a singular killer, but now that there’s two? they could have been covering for each other the whole time. but still…
“if we were the killers why would we give away that there’s two of us? that makes no sense, we’d have nothing to gain from that.”
oikawa voiced the exact thought you had been thinking. they would have the element of surprise keeping their partnership under wraps, it doesn’t make sense why they would expose there are two murderers when it would be easier to let the impression there’s a singular one linger.
yet, you had gotten to know the other three people at the table. there was no way osamu, atsumu, or suna could be a killer. there was just no way.
“you could be playing mind games with us, who knows,” suna assessed. “there’s no telling what fucked shit you’re willing to do if you’re out here cutting people up.”
“no one is trying to play tricks!” asahi yelled. “the innocent people on this ship are in serious danger, we need to figure this out now!”
“the four of us see one another on a regular basis,” osamu said. “the two of ya are the outliers here.”
“we each have three other people that can vouch for us! the two of ya only have each other! yer outnumbered here!”
you were so overwhelmed. so much muddled information was being thrown around, no solid theories being able to stem from such minimal evidence. you weren’t going to be able to use your brain on this one, you were going to have to trust your gut.
“we’re supposed to believe the pair of two people aren’t the killers and instead the duo is hiding in the tight knit group of four? that shit doesn’t add up in the slightest, the two of you are talking out of your asses.”
oikawa and asahi turned to you.
“you’re smart, please tell us you believe us.”
you bit your lip.
“i just…can’t wrap my head around the idea that any of them could be killers.”
“don’t let being buddy-buddy with the three of them cloud your judgment. like i said earlier, why would we expose there are actually two killers if we were the two killers?”
a theory came to your mind, and you weren’t sure if you thought it up because it was actually plausible, or because you just wanted to prove your lover and friends were innocent. regardless, you shared it.
“the three of them are bigger than the prior victims, so they would put up a tough fight. two against four would be hard to pull off with them, so you could be exposing the murderer duo so that we get rid of two of ourselves and then make it a two against two.”
oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.
“she’s a genius!” atsumu exclaimed. “y’all really thought ya could put one by her, huh?”
“she’s wrong! we would nev-”
“i don’t know about you guys,” suna interrupted. “but i’ve heard all that i need to hear. let’s get them the fuck off this ship.”
the screaming and shouting that ensued as he and the twins pushed the two accused men out of the room and down the halls had you covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut as more tears dropped down your face.
you tried to tell yourself that you were okay. the murderers had been caught for real now, you were going to be fine. you were safe.
the ship went quiet, yells no longer being heard. that was all you needed to know that oikawa and asahi had been ejected.
footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts, suna regarding you with a nod as he re-entered the room.
“you alright?”
breathe in, breathe out. “i should be.”
“good. i'm gonna go send a message to headquarters. someone needs to tell them what the hell has been happening.”
you bid him goodbye as he left. standing up, you decided that being wrapped up in osamu’s arms felt like a good idea after the intense moment earlier.
they weren’t in med bay, so you did a little searching before hearing their voices from inside the admin room. you were about to enter the room before a sentence spoken by osamu stopped you in your tracks.
“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”
wait for what?
“ ‘m sorry, i just wanted to get it over with! i told ya i didn’t want t’ be the one t’ kill the director.”
not even the limitless space outside could create the coldness you felt seep through every pore in your skin.
please be dreaming.
“ya still nearly got us exposed.”
“who cares? we’ve picked enough people off anyways. ship is ours.”
your pulse currently rivaled that of a racehorse, your brain not being able to deny what it just heard.
the twins were the killers.
osamu was a murderer.
movement to your left caught your eye, the brothers exiting the room only to stop in surprise when they saw you.
you tried to paint a look of nonchalance on your face, but it was too late. the panic was written all over you. there was nowhere to hide.
two very different emotions came onto their faces. atsumu practically looked predatory, whereas ‘samu almost looked as panicked as you.
“darlin’, listen to me-”
“cut her the bullshit, ‘samu, ya already dickmatized her enough.”
you found yourself backpedaling, fingers trembling as you attempted to put as much distance between you and them as possible.
“c’mon, angel, why ya look so scared?” atsumu taunted. you watched in horror as his brown eyes shifted to an inky black, the blonde about to lunge at you before his brother grabbed him by the collar of his maroon suit and yanked him back.
“not her,” osamu bit out, trapping his brother in a headlock. “i told ya anyone but her.”
“yer no fun, ‘samu!”
you didn’t wait around to watch them squabble, turning and running towards communications as fast as you could. you had to get to suna. he needed to know, and you weren’t going to be able to stand the slightest chance against the miyas without him.
choked sobs left you as you sped through the halls, sorrow and guilt eating you alive. sorrow because the man you had started to fall in love with, the man you had given your body to, the man you felt safe with ended up being a murderer. you felt beyond just betrayed.
then, your guilt stemmed from the fact that so many of your crewmates lay dead now, and several times you had let their killers roam free. not only that, but you’d also stood by as numerous innocent people were sent to their death outside in the vacuum of space.
you knew something was still off. you knew.
but your gut instinct had been fogged by your stupid, mushy emotions.
this was all fucked.
this was all so fucked.
“SUNA!” you screamed, sprinting into comms with red and bleary eyes.
“what is it- whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.
“we were wrong,” you said, throat tightening. “it’s the twins, they’re the killers! they’ve been playing us the whole time.”
“damn, that’s tough.”
his unserious response confused you. maybe he was in shock?
“also, correction,” the dark-haired man began. “the miyas haven’t been playing us the whole time…”
your heart nearly stopped when you saw suna’s greyish-green eyes turn the same black shade that atsumu’s had.
“...we’ve all been playing you the whole time.”
you couldn’t move, not registering suna’s grip on your shoulders tightening until you were being ripped straight out of it.
“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”
you felt yourself become engulfed in osamu’s arms, back pressed to his chest as he kept the two of you facing the other two…imposters in the room.
“dude, seriously? she’s the last one standing, we could complete the set.”
“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”
you felt his hold tighten around you, the same hands that slaughtered your crewmates now protectively embracing you. that fact made your head hurt.
“i told the two of ya, ‘m keepin’ her. lay a damn finger on her and ‘m rippin’ it clean off ya.”
he was met with begrudged silence from the two other men before suna let out an exasperated sigh. “fine, i guess she can live. she did really help us out by vouching for us back there, fucking oikawa almost had us figured out.”
“a pretty face t’ look at on the ride home won’t hurt.”
“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.
you didn’t know what they were talking about. you didn’t know what home was for them. all you knew was that you were gonna get dragged along, whether you liked it or not, by a man who built a bond with you through sugar-coated lies.
osamu leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek before whispering in your ear. “all my feelins’ are genuine, darlin’, that i can assure ya.”
you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.
“ ‘m gonna take good care of ya, i promise.”
_____
saige’s terrortober masterlist
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capypub · 11 months
Text
Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 1
AU Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character
Rating: T (language, sexual themes, drug use)
Minors DNI. 18+ content!
Scene 2 Scene 3
Summary: Joel's worked hard to build his empire. He's put the blood, sweat and tears of himself and others into creating his wealth and success, only ever worried about providing for himself and his brother. After years of being hardened by crime and violence, he finds someone that stirs feelings and urges inside of him that he'd long forgotten. She somehow brings out a softness in him without doing a thing and he will do everything in his power to keep her at his side, under his arm, and in his bed.
Been sitting on this idea for a while and finally got some time to write it out. Right now it's just a little scene in my head, but I might add some actual smut and fluff content soon.
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Joel was at the Tipy Bison her first night working the floor. He watched from his corner table, away from the neon lit signs and noise of the crowded bar. She was following Lacy around, the older redhead talking quickly as she explained how to put in orders on the bar’s computer system. She was smaller than Lacy, a cute little thing that had something primal stirring low in his core. 
“She’s a looker, ain’t she?” Tommy asked, coming up to the table with a knowing smirk as he set a fresh glass of bourbon in front of his brother.
“Where’d you find this one?” Joel asked around the rim of his glass, finishing the contents in one drink. 
“Grad student at UT, one of Jared’s friends needing a job, he vouched for her and everything,” Tommy shrugged while refilling Joel’s glass with practiced ease. 
“Grad student, huh?” Joel muttered, his eyes following her around the tiny bar as she tried to keep up with Lacy. 
“Yeah, psychology or somethin’...think her name’s Indi,” he said.
Joel couldn’t help the low scoff as he finally looked away from the girl and at his brother. “What kind of name is that?”
Tommy chuckled. “The fuck if I know,” he said through a snickering huff. 
The brother’s shared a brief laugh, always being able to relax around the other when they needed a moment of quiet, something which was hard to come by in their line of work.
“Tess been getting the boys ready for the Alvarez meeting?” he asked quietly, scanning the room slowly, the way he learned in the military, assessing and searching for threats.
“She better be,” Joel muttered, scanning the room as well, but for one target in particular.
A moment later, his target passed their table, Lacy leading the way to the backroom, most likely to show her where the girls take their breaks, away from customers, as Tommy insisted when he bought the rundown bar. 
Daniel, one of the newest and youngest runners for Joel approached the table slowly, eyes slightly glazed over. Joel suspected the kid was high, whether from their own product or someone else’s, still riding on the thrills of the lifestyle, the women, the drugs, hell, even the food tasted better when you ran for Joel Miller. 
“Hey boss,” Daniel said, waiting for Joel to acknowledge him with cold eyes and a slight arch of his brow, the warmth of laughter gone once the circle between the two brothers was invaded. “Um, we finished the job last night without any issues, the boys were wanting to head over to Sugar’s to check out the oil wrestling night after a big move like that, thought you two might want to join,” he explained, obviously having been put up to it by some of the more experienced runners and grunts. 
“Boy, you just stopped suckin’ on your momma’s titty last week and now you’re tryin’ to go see some more,” Tommy scoffed with a wry grin, always lighthearted and sharp with his wit, making the kid laugh nervously with a shake of his head.
Lately, moving products had become more of a risk with the increased security around the border. Joel had lost more men than he’d like  in the past two months to those DEA assholes thinking they were outsmarting the complex system of drug and weapon trafficking he had built over the last twenty years. He didn’t even want to think about the amount of cocaine he lost just last month to a drop gone off track. The numbers infuriated him to the point of seeing red if he thought about it too long, usually signaled by a headache and the urge to punch holes into the nearest wall. 
Just then, the subject of Joel’s initial interest reappeared, passing by the men without Lacy this time. Joel openly admired how her sleeveless black top accentuated the curves of her body. He caught the edges of black ink on her left inner forearm, the full tattoo stretching from her wrist to the inner crook of her elbow. Her hair swayed behind her with every step, long loose locks falling in waves and curls down her back. He spotted the hints of a second, much smaller tattoo on her shoulder blade, her hair covering most of it. 
His staring attracted the curiosity of Daniel, the kid turning as he followed Joel’s gaze. His hum of appreciation is what drew the older Miller’s attention away from the pretty little kitten walking away from them, completely unaware of how many men's interest she had peaked in the short amount of time she’s been clocked in. 
“Damn Tommy, how do you keep finding all these hotties?” he chuckled, a lustful smirk on his slimy lips as he looked her over before turning back to the two men. 
That comment was enough to have Joel itching to pull his gun from the holster and shoot the kid in his goddamn mouth. The clench of his jaw and hardness of his glare was enough to wipe the punk’s disgusting grin off his face. Unfortunately, Tommy insisted on a “No Guns” rule for all of the men when they entered the Bison, usually leaving their weapons at the door or behind the bar before they could even get a drink. While Joel respected the rule, he didn’t often feel like following it.  If Tommy didn’t ask, Tommy didn’t need to know. 
“Uh, everything good, boss?” he asked, shifting back to his original nervous state under Joel’s cold eyes. 
“Thought you were goin’ to Sugar’s, kid?” Joel questioned, his voice dropping to a low growl.
“Uh, y-yeah, w-we’re goin’,” Daniel agreed, taking a hesitant step backwards, the intimidation evident in the quiver of his lip, “I-I’ll see you around, Tommy,” he added with a stiff nod towards the other brother. 
Tommy simply nodded with his usual easy grin, sensing his brother’s sudden shift and realizing quickly that Joel was not amused with the kid’s comments. When Daniel turned around, he didn’t bother to realize how far away he’d stepped back from the table, unintentionally obstructing the walkway. He spun around sharply, his elbow bumping the tray of the Tipsy Bison’s latest waitress. 
Joel was on his feet instantly, grabbing Daniel by his collar and shoving him away from her as she tried to regain her balance. With the much taller and broader stature of Joel’s body, it was like looking at a bear grabbing a stick. Tommy watched her successfully manage to steady the three pint glasses with minimal spillage. 
“The fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Joel seethed at Daniel, shaking the kid by the collar for emphasis.
“I’m sorry, boss, I’m sorry!” Daniel whimpered, trying to get out of Joel’s grasp.
“The fuck you sayin’ sorry to me for, you should be sayin’ it to ‘er,” he grunted, cocking his head to the side briefly in Indi’s direction.
Tommy shook his head with a dramatic sigh. Poor girl was watching Joel threaten Daniel with wide eyes, holding her tray close to her chest, almost like she was frozen in place. While Joel continued to berate and threaten Daniel, Tommy took it upon himself to slowly approach his newest employee, offering a kind smile as he placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the bar.
“I…I didn’t mean to cause trouble, I’m sorry,” she immediately said, her lower lip a little shaky as she looked up at Tommy with worry. 
“Not your fault, sweetheart, Joel’s just…protective of our girls here, has a soft spot for ‘em, you know?” Tommy tried to explain, easing her panic with a comforting squeeze to her shoulder. 
He kept her distracted for a few moments, answering the few questions she had so far until Joel and Daniel approached them near the service well. Joel had Daniel by the back of shirt, his jaw tensed as he gave the kid a light shove in Indi’s direction. 
“S-sorry for gettin’ in your way, ma’am, I promise not to let it happen again,” Daniel said softly, his eyes on the ground the entire time, practically shaking in his shoes.
“It’s fine, really, no harm done,” she said quickly, looking past Daniel to Joel, who’s gaze softened just slightly when their eyes met. 
After she accepted Daniel’s apology, Joel stepped forward and leaned down, muttering something lowly to Daniel that had the kid practically running out of the bar. Tommy scoffed with a smirk, asking her one more time if she was okay before heading towards the office. When left alone with Joel, Indi hesitated in meeting his gaze. He took a slow step forward, allowing enough space for her to move away if she wanted. 
“I’m sorry you had to see that, darlin’, I usually don’t have to remind my boys ‘bout their manners,” he said, his voice no longer an intimidating growl, but a warm and inviting timber that had her relaxing just slightly. 
“No worries, I-I, um-.”
“Hey! Are you okay? What the hell, girl? I step outside for five minutes to smoke and you’re already getting guys kicked out,” Lacy said, coming up to them, grinning a little too wide for Joel’s comfort as she laughed and nudged Indi’s arm. 
“Yeah, crazy, right?” Indi said softly, her attention still on Joel as Lacy teased her lightly. 
“You need something Joel? My trainee isn’t going to learn just standing over here,” Lacy said, hand on her hip as she looked to Joel with an arched brow, one of the few who didn’t find him intimidating for some reason.
“How ‘bout ‘nother bourbon on the rocks?” Joel suggested, “the good stuff, not that well shit Tommy just gave me,” he added with a low chuckle, the edges of his lip twitching just a bit higher when Indi let out a soft laugh of her own. 
“You’re the boss,” Lacy shrugged with a nod, linking her arm with Indi and pulling her away, demanding details of what happened as they went to put his order in. 
With a heavy sigh, Joel watched the little doe-eyed waitress leave, her pleated black skirt swaying with each step. He originally never understood why Tommy had the girls dress in all black as part of the Bison’s uniform, but he could honestly appreciate his brother’s decision in having the girls wear those little black skirts. 
He had to bite his inner cheek to suppress the groan building in his stomach as Indi stumbled forward slightly, slipping on some substance on the floor. The sudden movement and her bending forward exposed more of her legs, the hints of tiny spandex shorts peeking beneath the fabric, accentuating her ass. 
Her little slip and recovery took less than three seconds, but Joel was watching her so closely it felt like she was moving in slow motion, his heated gaze soaking in every detail before he lost sight of her in the crowd. This little gatita had definitely made an impression on him and he was hungry for more…
Scene 2
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idyllic-affections · 4 months
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WAH I LOVE MAMA XIAOYUN IDEAS, that is soooo cute! And i would pay for you to actually make it a series just like the Kaveh Dad AU
So here’s some scenarios i had thought of when reading 🐉 and 🐌 anons take on it. Ok so first of all, i hc that [name] would inherit Xianyun’s hobby of tinkering and making devices, like they may not be a half adepti nor have homicidal urges like their sisters but the kid is a curious gremlin who would be the type to break apart a toy because their curious on how it works. Just imagine Xiaoyun and [name] bonding together by making their first machine together, [name] would give little toys to their sisters like maybe a small toy Qilin or crane?
Also I LOVE the idea of [name] and Yaoyao having a friendship like Cloud Retainer and Madame Ping, like there’s [name] who would go head first to do something reckless or chaotic and then there’s Yaoyao being the voice of reason then there’s Xiangling encouraging [name] behavior for the sake of good ingredients so now Yaoyao have to look after two chaotic people. Also like with Ganyu and Shenhe, [name] would also give Yaoyao some toys that they made themself and they would play with the toys together. WAIT WHAT IF XIAOYUN ALSO MADE [NAME] A PLUSH THAT IS LIKE YUEGUI TO PROTECT THEM, omg that would be sooo adorable! Maybe Yaoyao and [name] would have a tea party with both of their stuff animals as the others guests?? Idk but the idea of Xiaoyun making them a stuff animal that has the same function like Yuegui is soo cute, idk what kind of animal would it be thought.. maybe a crane..? Or maybe a chicken? Because baby cranes are called chicks..? (Im just pulling straws here also i just like the idea of [name] having Sushang’s chicken from HSR)
Would Shenhe introduce [name] to Chongyun? Like how Xiaoyun is pushing [name] to be friends with Yaoyao, Shenhe is doing the same but with Chongyun. Chongyun being confused with situation but nevertheless still get along with the kid his auntie introduced. And then he introduce them to Xingqiu and a chaotic duo was born.. I’ll let you think of the shenanigans the both of them have done :)
And about Moral Injury, personally i dont really want that much other than [name] bonding with Collei and their interactions with Scaramouche back when he was being experimented by Dottore BUT I do like the idea that maybe in an arc where they’re on the run, they come across Diluc when he left Mondstadt. Idk how it would go but maybe Diluc was injured from doing whatever mission he did regarding the fatui then [name] came across him and healed him up before quickly leaving him alone once they saw his delusion. Like when healing him, they saw his delusion and qucikly try to finish healing him because curse their bleeding heart! If he has a delusion, then that means either he’s a fatui agent or has some connection to the fatui. They instantly book it to the next nation and changed their identity. Diluc sometimes thinks about the kind stranger who helped him, although not because of how they help him, its because of their subtle reaction towards his delusion and how they became a ghost when he tried to find any information about them.
So yeah that’s all. Im honestly kinda scared rn because in a day or two, im going to go back to school which i am not ready for but here’s to hoping that we wont get any tests next week! Hope you have a good day/night though!
- 🐱Anon
i am trying SOOOO hard to not start writing this series yet...... she isn't even playable yet...... Please
YEAH NO EXACTLY!!!!!! i like to think that in the first few days of them living with xianyun, she builds them toys that do cool and fun things.... the mechanics are simple to her, but they should entertain a child well enough, no..? well, later, she walks in to the room she's given them find that [name] has meticulously and carefully pulled the toys apart to peer at the internal mechanics. and they apologize profusely when they realize she's there because they weren't trying to destroy the toys, they just... wanted to know how they worked. and xianyun just hums, settling on the floor next to them (which is perhaps something quite uncommon for someone like herself), picks them up, sets them in her lap, and goes on to explain it to them and teach them how to put it back together <3 bonding activity <3
eventually it becomes a hobby of [name]'s, and xianyun invites them to help with the things she's working on too. mama xianyun often pursues little projects for her child (though i like to think she doesn't immediately realize that this is another child of hers, like her older daughters. maybe ping points it out to her and she thinks about it for a second, but then nods and agrees. she's not embarrassed. she has two older daughters! so.... it wouldn't be the first time). and [name] would totally make cute little trinkets for their big sisters!!!!!
YEAH HAHA CHAOTIC [NAME] REAL AND TRUE. MEANWHILE YAOYAO IS ABOUT TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK AT THE AGE OF, IDK, 7????? BECAUSE OF THE THINGS HER FRIEND KEEPS DOING...... but [name] would definitely make a cute toy for her as an apology!! OH AND I WHOLEHEARTEDLY BELIEVE XIANYUN WOULD DO THAT...... maybe it would be a little crane that almost, vaguely seems to resemble... herself, but in her adeptus form? huh, how odd. must be a coincidence (it is not, in fact, a coincidence. xianyun does this on purpose). but i also think [name] having a little chicken would be so cute <3333 mama crane and her little chick...... Sighhhhhh
YES SHE SO WOULD i think shenhe would teach them exorcism, to a certain extent. mostly so that they can effectively protect themselves against things... beyond the living world. so she would most certainly introduce them to chongyun! and i think they would honestly cause problems for him at first. slipping jueyun chilis into his food (like xingqiu...... teehee) and stuff, but then apologizing kindly and offering him a popsicle afterwards. they do know where to stop. he would introduce them to xingqiu and it would be OVERRRRR for him HELP
moving onto moral injury... OH MAN [name] and diluc do have an important (angstful) interaction later on, but adding this in prior to it would give that interaction a lot more depth. thank you for the suggestion, lovely!!!!! i will definitely be adding this in. also, some variation of "curse [their] bleeding heart" would be a good chapter title. thank you for reminding me of that phrase!!! i forgot it existed tbh
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wr1t3w1tm3 · 6 months
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The Outsiders Vampire AU - V2
For each of these we start with a different character and see how this all plays out.
It starts with Johnny, who's jumped by some Socs. Some vampires, he'll realize when he comes too in the Curtis house. He's got a nasty scratch down his face from when the soc - he thinks his name was Bob - tried to get his neck.
But Johnny had moved, and he'd missed the first time.
He's hungry, but nothing sounds good. Darry frets over him a bit and tries to take him to the hospital, but Johnny says he'll be expected at home. Darry tells 'im he ought to go to the hospital. Johnny shoots back that his parents 'id kill 'im if they found out.
He's starving by the time he gets home. He can smell something all around him on the walk home. It smells good, but he doesn't know what it is.
His dads reeling drunk when he arrives. He gets to walloping on Johnny, and at first Johnny just takes it. He's too hungry to care. He's so hungry he could eat a horse.
Suddenly, he finds himself standing over his father - or the husk of him that's left. He wipes his mouth and there's blood on his sleeve - his father's blood. He's appalled with himself... but he feels better. Less hungry, more tired. It's still light outside, but a short nap won't hurt him none.
He's awoken by his mother screaming in the living room. He hurries out and nearly trips over his father's husk. It all comes flooding back. He feels very, very nauseous. He's also a bit hungry, but it can wait. His mom shouts at him, screaming and asking what happened. Johnny tells her he doesn't know - he knows he can't tell her the truth. She screeches and cries and drinks herself to sleep, just like his pop. Johnny ignores the old bat and spends half the night wandering aimlessly around the surrounding neighborhood. He checks up on the Curtis place a couple times. He finds the lights out and everyone asleep. He checks up on Two-Bit, who's nearly asleep on the couch - drunk out of his mind.
Last are Steve and Dally, seein' as they live farther away. Steve's house is locked up tight. He hits up Buck Merrill's place, but doesn't go in. Watching from the street, he catches sight of Dally a few times, and he watches as he drags a girl up the stairs around four. Finally starting to feel tired, he retraces his steps and ends up back at his parents' house by five.
His mothers over the toilet, wrenching like a sick dog. The smell is nearly unbearable. Johnny tries to make it back to his room but hears him go past. Once he's finally laid down, she bursts in, screamin' at him and tryin' to hit him. She can't see straight enough to do it. Her hits are weaker too - maybe cause she's drunk to maybe cause of whatever's happening to him. But just as he's pushed her off, something comes over him, and when he finally wrangles back control, his mother is also a dead husk sprawled on the floor in front of him.
Johnny's scared, real scared. He doesn't know what to do. His parents aren't stellar, and no one will look for them for a couple days, but what'll happen to him? He killed them for Heaven's sake! Glory! He'll end up in the cooler. No. He can't go to the cooler.
Dally's mean when Buck first wakes 'im. 'Cept, when he opens 'is eyes he'd swear it's lil' ol' Johnny Cade who's standing there.
It is Johnny Cade. And Johnny practically drags him down the stairs and outside in the chilly morning without any effort. Dally doesn't even have a shirt on. Johnny offers him his jacket and it half fits, and he explains everything. He tells Dally 'bout gettin' jumped, then the thing with his dad then his mom. Dally's mortified by the end of it, but with a quick smirk n' a crack 'bout this bein' an opportunity to turn things around, he gets them on track. What does Johnny want? He wants to live a normal life. Okay, well, that's gonna be hard, but Dally'll try to help him. But it's a big ask, n' he ain't doin' it for "free" this time.
Dally has to head to work, and Johnny picks the lock at Pony's house and crashes on their couch. Pony getting home from school wakes 'im up. Johnny's a little hungry, but he can resist it easy right now. Pony asks why he wasn't in school n' Johnny says he didn't feel well... within a few minutes though, he tells Pony about his parents. Just the part about them being dead though.
Pony can barely believe it. He makes Johnny and himself some dinner, n' Johnny's able to choke it down 'fore Darry n' Soda get back, but he throws it back up in the back yard while Pony talks to Darry.
Johnny's forced to rehash his story. Darry's mortified and Soda... he also seems mortified, but more so than Darry. Darry suggests - and he admits it sounds bad - that maybe it's for the better. Dally comes by and he suggests that perhaps its better Johnny doesn't report his parents dead. He can slip between the cracks and avoid the system that way. Darry doesn't like it, but Pony and Dally do. He's outvoted.
In the months leading up to the Rumble, Johnny learns a lot about what he is. Dally helps with some of it. He gets in contact with a soc named Randy, who's a friend of Bob's. He admits that Bob isn't human... but he won't elaborate, saying Bob'll kill 'im if he does.
Johnny eventually learns that he doesn't have to have blood straight from the source. Or even, from a human source. He steals from blood drives occasionally, and a whole cow can last him a week. He just can't take to many of them. He eventually figures out that if he takes from several humans, they'll walk away just fine, and they won't turn out like him (he figures that'll only happen if you bite but don't eat). Dally offers himself as a backup - Johnny refuses outright. But Dally never officially rescinds his offer, which only confuses Johnny more.
Dal ends up in the cooler after a couple months, leavin' him on his own. He drops out of school and finds a job workin' nights at another DX where he runs the counter and sometimes helps the mechanics with menial repairs. They start teachin' him to do things, like check n' change oil or replace certain filters. The head mechanic even offers to apprentice him for a few years. Johnny agrees.
He doesn't see the gang much anymore, but he sometimes stops by before work. He does so the day Ponyboy gets jumped. And who jumps him but Bob the soc.
Bob doesn't slice him like Darry thought. He bit him. Pony's out cold, and Johnny knows what's happening. Dally seems to get it too. Pony comes to violently. Dally holds his brothers back while Johnny wrestles Pony under control in the lot. Once Pony's cooled it enough to move, they make for one of the farmers' fields. Once Pony's done, Johnny explains everything.
They arrive back at the Curtis house long after dark. Darry's waiting up, reading the paper, and Soda's nodding off on the couch next to Steve. Two-Bit's got the tv on and Dally waits on the porch. He warns them before they go in that Darry... Darry's Darry. He shouts, demands answers that can't be given. Pony starts to go red eyed and Johnny has to rush him away again. Pony cries in the lot, admits he's scared of what he's become. Johnny confides he feels the same way.
Once Pony finally calms down, they start to head back. Bob jumps 'em again, along with a couple of new buddies - vampires. One of them Pony recognizes, and in turn he recognizes Pony. It's Paul, Darry's old friend.
The fights fast. Pony runs and they all go after him, but Johnny thrusts an entire tree-branch through Bob's chest and kills him for good. The other two flee the scene. Johnny, now with three murders on his hand, runs to Dally with Pony hot on his tail. They end up in Windrixville, with nothing to do but sleep and try to waste time.
They talk, and Pony reads. The week goes by quick enough. Dally comes to get them and explains that they'll be a Rumble, but the fuzz are still looking for them. The boys leave the church with Dally to go back to Tulsa regardless. They aren't there when the fire catches. Two children die.
When the Rumble rolls around, who leads the Soc's but Paul. The other vampire who jumped Pony and Johnny is with 'im. Even with Tim Sheppard's gang and their own, they don't know who's who or what. The fight devolves rather quickly. Paul clobbers Curly Sheppard and tosses him aside, bitten, and turns his attention to Darry. Darry's no match physically, but Ponyboy and Johnny managed to pry Paul off him. Pony has to jump the other soc who they know is a vampire and Johnny's left with Paul.
He nearly losses. Darry reengages and gets thrown off, going limp once he hits the ground. That's when Dally jumps in with Johnny. Pony - with help from Tim and Soda - subdues the other vampire and Pony's able to jump back in with Johnny. They pin Paul, who refuses to stop, and Johnny ends up taking a stick to his heart. Ending him.
The Rumble ends with the socs scattered and the last vampire fleeing for his life. Steve throws up and Soda cries when he sees Darry out cold. Tim thinks Curly's dead at first till he starts to come too, but a crisis is averted, and Pony takes him somewhere else to explain everything.
But Dally... Dally's hurt. Bad. Johnny smells it and as people frantically disperse to find a car, he asks Dally a question. A couple, actually. He asks if he remembers the time that Buck clobbered him for coming in without paying his cover, and how he didn't have so much as a scratch. And Dally remembers, though he can barely talk. Johnny asks if he wants him to do this. Dally says he doesn't have a choice.
In the end, three of the Curtis gang never grow up. They wander from town to town throughout the Midwest and the Heartland, and the South and Appalachia; rolling with life as it deals them hand after hand after hand. They lose Soda in 'Nam, they nearly loose Steve there too. Darry grows old and Two-Bit gets sober. Steve never does. He dies by the bottle, but he finds happiness for a time. It's some small solace. Darry dies of a heart attack, but he's made it. He's a soc now. Two-Bit works 'til he dies, he's barely sixty-five. Curly joins them every now and again, but he sticks by his lonesome more often than not.
Johnny, Pony, and Dally wander with the wind across the plains, forever young. Forever stuck with each other.
After a while, they agree that they wouldn't have it any other way.
With each of these there are different outcomes depending on who gets bitten first. I also play with the mechanics a bit between stories, but they'll stay pretty consistent - for my own sake.
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rainbowfic · 8 months
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Today's prompt list is: Avocado
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Theme: Music 1. The full moon is calling / The fever is high / And the wicked wind whispers / And moans - The Eagles: One Of These Nights
2. And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune / Then the piper will lead us to reason / And a new day will dawn for those who stand long / And the forests will echo with laughter - Stairway to Heaven: Led Zeppelin
3. All the people we used to know / They're an illusion to me now / Some are mathematicians / Some are carpenter's wives / Don't know how it all got started - Bob Dylan: Tangled Up In Blue
4. There's room at the top they are telling you still / But first you must learn how to smile as you kill / If you want to be like the folks on the hill - John Lennon: Working Class Hero
5. Heard the singers playin', how we cheered for more / The crowd had rushed together tryin' to keep warm / Still the rain kept pourin', fallin' on my ears / And I wonder, still I wonder who'll stop the rain - Creedence Clearwater Revival: Who'll Stop The Rain
6. The exodus is here / The happy ones are near / Let's get together / Before we get much older - The Who: Baba O'Riley
7. Keep me in a daydream / keep me goin' strong / You don't wanna save me / sad is my song - Stevie Wonder: Superstition
8. But oh how it feels so real / Lying here with no one near / Only you and you can hear me / When I say softly, slowly - Elton John: Tiny Dancer
9. What'll you do when you get lonely / And nobody's waiting by your side? / You've been running and hiding much too long / You know it's just your foolish pride - Derek and the Dominos: Layla
10. Now she walks / through her sunken dream / To the seat with the clearest view / And she's hooked to the silver screen / But the film is a saddening bore / For she's lived it ten times or more / She could spit in the eyes of fools - David Bowie: Life On Mars
11. Then the door was open and the wind appeared / The candles blew then disappeared The curtains flew then he appeared / saying don't be afraid /Come on baby... and she had no fear - Blue Oyster Cult: (Don't Fear) The Reaper
12. Seeing her skin feeling silky smooth / Colour of cafe au lait / Made the savage beast inside / Roaring till it cried More, More, More / Now he's at home doing 9 to 5 /Living his brave life of lies - Patti Labelle: Lady Marmalade
13. This city desert makes you feel so cold / It's got so many people but it's got no soul / And it's taken you so long to find out you were wrong / When you thought it held everything - Gerry Rafferty: Baker Street
14. Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions / I keep my visions to myself / It's only me / Who wants to wrap around your dreams and... /Have you any dreams you'd like to sell? - Fleetwood Mac: Dreams
15. Too hot, too greedy / How could you leave me / When I needed to possess you? / I hated you. I loved you, too. - Kate Bush: Wuthering Heights
16. There is no pain, you are receding /A distant ship smoke on the horizon / You are only coming through in waves / Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying - Pink Floyd: Comfortably Numb
17. Love is an angel disguised as lust / Here in our bed until the morning comes / Come on now try and understand / The way I feel under your command - Pattie Smith: Because the Night
18. But there are times that you feel you're part of the scenery / All the greenery is comin' down, boy / And then your wife seems to think you're part of the / furniture oh, it's peculiar, she used to be so nice - Supertramp: Take The Long Way Home
19. But what a fool believes he sees / No wise man has the power to reason away/ What seems to be / Is always better than nothing - The Doobie Brothers: What A Fool Believes
20. You see I've been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / 'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain - America: Horse With No Name
--
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safyresky · 1 year
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Bernack! Fusion Lawyer
A late night treat for u all that I promised AGES ago, please enjoy the most unhinged instalment of Fusion AU: Bernack (have yet to think of a decent name for them u just cannot mix Jack/Bernard's names it just does not work. Jernard? BACK?!?!?!? BARACK? OBAMA?!?!?!?!!?!?!?), Fusion Lawyer.
I have barely edited these notes. I have only made them legible (3am Dani has bad spelling which is funny bc it's already atrocious with how fast I type) and I am NOT joking about the time this was originally written at:
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Please note that these are like BARE BONES ideas. LORD KNOWS (now that I have reread it) if this is still the situation I'd have fucking bernACK appear in, but A TREAT FOR U ALL ANYWAY. I HOPE.
AHEM. Let's begin.
It starts with a dare to Jacqueline, with love, ur horrible friend Charlie
they're chatting about some odd and strange magical things, and Charlie cracks a joke about Leprechauns and gold
to which Jacqueline replies "dude. that's legit. And you know gnomes? garden gnomes? yeah they're accurate to size you see in stores and they constantly throw hands with the leprechauns about who owns the gold
Charlie is like. ur fucking me
Jacqueline's like I am NOT! I will even bring you over and SHOW U
Charlie's like BET!
And Jacqueline goes AIGHT CHOOSE A DAY
Anyway Charlie ends up being unavailable but he has activated his pal's trap card and Jacqueline, of course, hunts down Elle
"hey dude," she says, once she finds Elle. "wanna go stake out some gnomes and leprechauns so I can win a bet against Charlie?"
And Elle is like "It's March. OF FUCKING COURSE I DO. Nothing's happening round these parts rn let's fucking GO BESTIE
So off they fuck!
And after a very strange series of events, Elline is around, and she is fucking RUNNING from the leprechaun authorities bc they think she is stealing the gold
She fails and is captured by them
They think she is a gnome spy
Elline is like "I'm really not? I'm a sprelf, and I'm just tryin to prove a point to my horrible friend Charlie who constantly makes silly challenge bets with me and they end up like this
which is funny bc we're always like "wow our legends need to stop having silly contests that end with trouble"
"I'm half hypocrite on the sprite side"
ANYWAY
Elline is like really I'm not a spy. not a gnome spy. i swear. i dont even want the gold. i get paid v well and have so much pirate treasure it's fine honest
and the leprechauns are like THEN WHY ARE YA COMING OVER FROM THE GNOME FRONTIER?!@?!?!
GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT, they say, and LOCK ELLINE UP IN THE JAIL. TM.
Elline is like.
This is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation dot jpeg
MEANWHILE, AT THE POLE...
Charlie runs into B, who's like, hey, have you seen Elle?
And Charlie's like maybe! I think she's out with Jacqueline. See, Jacquie and I were gonna do a thing, but I had another thing, but I finished the thing early and was going to call Jacqueline out on the gnome and leprechaun thing, but she's not around at all
and nor is Elle! So I'm guessing she took Elle with her instead!
Bernard, knowing full well how those two magibeans be: oh FUCK
Prior to this, Charlie ran into Jack who was like hey junior. you seen Jacqueline around
and he said the same thing to Jack!
Jack, also knowing full well how those two magibeans be: OH FUCK
are they talking about elle/jacquie or the gnomes/leprachauns? we'll never know (it's the latter but this works for the former too I am realizing)
SO. JACK AND BERNARD KNOW ALL ABOUT THE NONSENSE AND ARE LIKE AH SHIT
BOTH OF THEM CONTACT ELLINE (u know. telepathy/magical legend/legate link) LIKE "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU GO CANVAS THE GNOMES AND LEPRECHAUNS ????
And Elline is like I HAD A POINT TO PROVE
ANYWAY. I'M IN JAIL.
CAN YOU COME GET ME?
And so Jack and B go ALRIGHT GUESS WE'RE GOING TO BAIL OUR LOVED ONES OUT OF LEPRECHAUN JAIL
so off they fuck and go to post bail and the leprechauns go oh no no NO. THEY are getting a TRIAL. We can't let the gnomes think we don't know. They need to know. They need to know we know their TRICKS.
Jack and B are like OKAY FINE BUT WE DEMAND TO BE THERE
And the front desk leprechaun goes "oh NO you do NOT. closed court, only the plaintiff, defendant, lawyers, etc. no visitors. unless ur their lawyer which i KNOW ur not. so BYE."
Jack and B are FUMING
B: I'm head fucking ELF I know enough about magibean law to be a LAWYER.
Jack: I WENT TO LAW SCHOOL
B: you did-you-what? why?!
Jack: long story. got bored, needed to make the law work for me, went to law school.
so anyway. some kinda crazy discussion happens for sure that ends in ELLINE NEEDS A LAWYER
ELLINE. THE FUSION. NEEDS A LAWYER
WE BOTH HAVE THE KNOW HOW.
IF WE FUSED WE COULD LAWYER THE SHIT OUT OF THOSE GUYS AND GRAB ELLINE
They're like this is batshit insane. absolutely crazy
but you know, so is leprechaun court, and gnome court???? gods forbid
they have a brief discussion about concerns given that when jack fused with elle, they had to get separated by force courtesy of berline, v scaring and scarring, very jarring, do NOT want a repeat of that
but in the end they can put aside their differences/worries/concerns bc their loved ones are in TROUBLE.
so they do it. they fucking fuse.
Enter:
BERNACK! FUSION LAWYER
you know slannen the elf from ella enchanted? yeah. That's basically bernack
he appears, he looks SO normal. It's actually surprising.
he has a briefcase
he knows a LOT about LAWYER STUFF
he is READY TO KICK ASS IN THIS COURTROOM AND MARCHES THROUGH THE DOORS
they are the ULTIMATE lawyer
they have the boston accent
they shove over some leprechauns like IM WALKIN HERE
they got that DANK HETEROCHROMIA IN THE EYEBALLS!
they go BACK to the front desk, put their card down (which somehow they have an official business card???)
"I'm here to represent elline. it's non negotioable"
and BARGES into the courtroom
Elline is like. WHAT AM I SEEING. WHAT IS THIS
And Bernack is like this is me slash us getting your asses out of LEPRECHAUN jail. this was so stupid. why did you do this.
I HAD A POINT TO PROVE
Okay shut up, don't say ANYTHING. let me do the talking
Elline is like. I am concerned about this but also, intrigued
She like. does the thing where u zip ur lips and throw away the key
Bernack is like good choice. Also, keep an eye on me, if this goes south we'll need to pull a jackington
Elline (unzips lips) how would u like your death
Bernack: the less memes the better
Elline, the meme loving fuck: i make no promises (rezips lips, folds hands, sits and smiles)
Elline is basically ready to stab That Bitch at any given moment, but also, living for the chaos that is about to ensue
and chaos DOES ensue
the trial is stupid. it's rigged. bernack has to run loop holes around loop holes around loop holes. That's okay tho that's his specialty, loopholes and clauses
there is an ace attorney reference. multiple maybe even
this is SPARTA reference that ends with Elline kicking someone
U WANT THE TRUTH U CAN;T HANDLE THE TRUTH moment
but ANYWAY the trial is beyond frustrating because the leprechauns are STUBBORN and WANT to make a big move like showing the gnomes their spy apprehended, and so finally bernack is like I am AT my LIMIT and snaps their fingers or something and suddenly, fire!!
YEAH. BERNACK HAS FIRE POWER.
Of course, Bernack immediately thinks ARSON?????
He's perturbed but also. Intrigued. And also, burning the courtroom sounds great at this point it's been HOURS
And Elline thinks back, thrice as loud, ARSON! BURN IT DOWN! DO IT! LET'S BUST OUR ASSES OUT OF HERE. AHHHH
You'll never guess what they do
FIRE. That's what
And they trash the courthouse and book it
They win the case by default
Bernack's like TOLD YA I'D GET YOU OUT OF THERE as something explodes
Elline's like DON'T LOOK BACK AT THE EXPLOSION
Bernack's like COOL GUYS DONT LOOK BACK AT EXPLOSIONS as he pulls out shades and rushes away without looking behind him
I don't THINK they'd need to be forced apart. Pretty sure Jack and Bernard would be like "I've had enough of this guy" and just like. poof back to themselves
But not before giving Elline a piece of their mind
ELLINE YOU FUCKED UP ALL THE SHIT
SO DID YOU
BUT IT WAS AWESOME
YEAH IT WAS!
they high five and get iced cream or something.
idk man.
I feel like these are the most chaotic fusions that could exist. Chaotic in positive???? ways?????
BUT YEAH
Anyway back at the NP Elline kicks down the door to Charlie's room like GOT UR PROOF BUCKO, AND WE GOT TO DESTROY A COURTHOUSE!
And Charlie's like ): NOT because he was proven wrong but bc he did not get to destroy things with them ):
and that's the story of BERNACK! FUSION LAWYER!
11 notes · View notes
rosetintedgunman · 2 years
Note
@the-actor-himself
-
It's late, I should be asleep, but I think I need to get this out before I do anything else tonight.
King, let me be honest. You are a joy and a treasure to this community that is worthy of the pen name you use. It's been an absolute delight watching you reach out to everyone and help them feel welcome and included. I'm grateful I was lucky to cross paths with you when you originally set up this particular blog, and consider myself doubly lucky that I was still here upon your return when the time was right. You're such a friendly, engaging individual who really embodies the desire to be here because it is fun.
You've got an incredible range with characters. Not only that, you've such a commitment to their development both in the main verses and sideline AUs. For instance, Illinois in both normal verse and villain verse are so well-developed and deep. I've enjoyed seeing how things have developed (and omg don't get me started on Charlie he's PRECIOUS). As for Actor... I really like how he has been able to find his way to a redemption that makes sense. Nothing about any of this feels forced, and it makes me glad to see you're handling this so well. I'm very much looking forward to seeing where things go: with the anons, other characters, and with Wilf.
I am glad that we are friends. Though we've both been utterly swamped lately, I do look forward to when we can simply talk about characters without the pressure to do things. And who knows? I might have to resort to your blogs to help me get used to the ask-development process. :P
BONUS:
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"King, huh? That talented son of a gun with th' cute an' equally talented spouse. Yeah, I know th' one. Cute pair, they are. Gotta love me some wholesome couple goals. You two gotta keep that up, okay? Be there fer one another, 'cause it'll make this world a much better place knowin' y've got yer most precious treasure right there by yer side.
But that's me gettin' sidetracked. I'm here ta throw a comment ta Mark. An' I know it probably isn't my place, what with us still being kinda sorta rocky, an' me not exactly rememberin' everythin', but... I've missed him. Took me far too long ta see that, honestly. I know he'd be th' first ta say otherwise, but he is my brother whether he likes it or not. What I did was shitty. What he did was also shitty. In a way, I guess it sorta cancels out.
I guess what I'm tryin' ta say is... It's still a ways away, but I like that I've got my brother back. An' that I remembered I even have a brother ta begin with."
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"PS. There's a note from Y.ancy. When I asked him ta say one nice thing, he just rooolllled his eyes an' went "yeah he's fine". So congrats on not bein' too annoying! :D"
6 notes · View notes
apricusnights · 8 months
Text
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"It's funny, what little we actually know about this world. Take the five Emperors for example. The amount of information we have is..well it really isn't all that impressive."
"I doubt that is anything that bothers you too much right? Otherwise you wouldn't have asked about it in the first place. Well, sit down and I'll tell you everything we know. Everything that the previous university presentation didn't go over."
"You can probably guess that we don't have concrete details on things like ages or where they are from. Just know that everything I tell you is pretty much everything anyone is gonna know. I doubt you're gonna find out any way other than tryin to speak to one of them...good luck with that."
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"See this drawing? Oh right, I should probably mention that since we don't really have any pictures we have to go off details of those who have been before them. Anyway.."
"This is Clarion. We know the name because a few others have heard it. Clarion is..kind of..well if all of them are mysterious, this one is likely the most. They seem to enjoy causing mischief, they are something of a trickster if you will. They have a set of cat ears so we have to assume they decided at one point to get augmentation, unless those are natural..who knows."
"Nobody has seen Clarion fight but they are an emperor so I'm willing to bet their skill is way above just about everyone else. They seem to have some sort of shadow based power. Members of the Marigold clan reported being engulfed in shadow and suddenly waking up on a beach..half a world away."
Nations with possible bloodline ties: Fae Apricus Kwailai
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"Ah right, the big man. His name is Vili, or so we are told. He's monstrous, we're talkin someone who could probably throw a titan class chimera. Vili has a set of horns, again maybe an augmentation at some point. He values strength above all else. It's said he watches battles across all nations. If you ask me it's likely that warriors often seek his blessing."
"He's regarded as the second strongest emperor, and possibly the oldest. He have some reports of a fight against him and it went about as well as you could expect Still, seems he respect those who refuse to give up even against overwhelming odds."
"We have no real idea what his powers may be. All we have are reports of his sheer strength, size, and neat invulnerability. Perhaps he simply hasn't had an open he considers worthy enough to show off what he can really do."
Nations with possible bloodline ties: Nivis Völsung Calere
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"This is Tagetes, the rabbit eared emperor. As you can tell by the nickname she's got rabbit ear augmentations, I think? Like I said before, maybe they are natural..who knows with these folk."
"Tagetes hasn't been seen fighting so we don' have a lot of information on her style or what her combat abilities may be. We can assume they are fairly high though as she's managed to talk two of the other emperors down and that's not somethin everyone can do."
"She seems to posses the ability to heal someone from nearly any wound inflicted on them. There are rumors that she can pinpoint weak spots of sorts on any opponent and is able to somehow shut down someone's offense by striking them. Again, we've never heard of her fighting so how much of that is true, we may never know."
Nations with possible bloodline ties: Ricusare Asirel Fulminare Islands
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"The drawing of the big lady there? That's Morrigan. Least I think that's her name. She's one we got a little bit of combat information about. She's strong, like insanely strong..might even rival Vili. But she's also really quick, quicker than she has any right to be. She seems to control some incredibly unique weapons...or maybe it's one weapon in several parts..hard to say."
"Reports say she's got some weird ability to drain the life force out of someone. Maybe it makes her stronger, maybe she just does it for fun. She's been known to be a bit sadistic on the battlefield."
"She's one of only two emperors that seem to have no augmentation done. She also seems to be one of the more mysterious emperors since little else is known about her."
Nations with possible bloodline tie: Kwailai Fae Réunion
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"This one is gonna be short. See this guy? We don't even know what his name is. He's often referred to "The First". The first what? We don't know, maybe the first of the emperors. It would fit since he seems to have been around longer than the other four."
"Without any doubt in my mind I'd say he's the strongest one of the bunch. When you've got people as strong as the other emperors listening to you, and not wanting to get on your bad side..yeah."
"We have no reports on what his powers are, no reports on anything really. Wish I had more to give you but everyone seems to be at a loss when it comes to this guy."
Nations with possible bloodline ties: Apricus Crepusculum ???
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"Can these folks really grant just about any desire you have? Who knows. Anyway, thanks for droppin by. You may be able to find some more information if you dig around enough but I doubt you'll find much more. "
"Have a nice weekend everyone!"
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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years
Text
A Reunion of Sorts (dad!Arthur Morgan x reader)
A/N: Daisy’s middle name is not May! Daisy May is just something John calls her! I have a great aunt who always called my little sister Maddie May even though May was not her middle name. That great aunt always used May as a sort of middle name for my sister and a couple other cousins and I thought it was cute. Find the rest of dad!Arthur Morgan AU on my masterlist here!
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: none really, all game canon related
Additional Note: Lupine Valley Ranch is Arthur and Y/N’s ranch/home/farm. We already know Beecher’s Hope is John and Abigail’s. And Lone Paradise is Charles and Lucy’s home/ranch/farm.
***
You rubbed your eyes, struggling to stay awake. The night air was just a little chilly but you wore one of Arthur’s jackets to keep you warm. 
Cicadas and frogs chirped from the woods that surrounded your home. Occasionally, you’d hear a coyote yip or a raccoon chitter and the underbrush would rustle, stirring you just long enough to make your eyes widen. But then you’d start to drift off to sleep on the porch once more. 
“Go on to bed, Y/N.” Arthur insisted, moving to your chair. He was standing at one end of the porch, eyes set on the drive that led to your home. Every once in a while, he’d glance over to you and see your head bobbing as you tried to fight off sleep. 
“No, no.” You shook your head, swatting his hands away as he tried to grab your hands or wrists to pull you to your feet. “I want to stay awake until they get here.”
“I can wake ya up when they get here.”
“You won’t wake me up.”
“Y/N, there’s no sense in you bein’ awake.”
“I want to make sure everyone is well and comfortable tonight.” 
He continued to try to take your hands but you stubbornly refused to let him grab you, knowing he could easily pull you to your feet and haul you off to bed. 
“Arthur Morgan, I want to stay out here with you!”
“What if I don’t want to carry your ass back to bed?” He raised a brow, his tone teasing as he looked down at you. He braced himself on either arm of your chair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Just go to bed, woman.”
“No.” You closed your eyes as you leaned against him, only meaning to do so for a few moments. But your eyelids were so heavy that it was a struggle to open them. 
“Pumpkin-,”
“Shut up, Arthur. You’re just tryin’ to get me to go to bed so you can leave and go cause all sorts of trouble you don’t need to be causing.”
“I would never do such a thing.”
“Something’s coming down the road.” Hosea spoke from the other side of the porch. 
You stood to your feet, following Arthur to where Hosea stood. You placed your hand on his forearm, watching the light from a wagon. 
“That’s them.” Arthur picked up his hat from an end table on the porch. 
***
You stood out in the hallway watching as John placed a sleeping Grace down in Daisy’s bed. Daisy was wide awake in your room, pouting and upset that Grace was asleep. She wanted to play, but you told her that with it being so late Grace would probably be asleep. 
“Thank you again for lettin’ us stay here, Y/N.” Abigail placed her hand on your arm. 
“It’s safer for you to be up here.” You gave her a little smile. 
“Uncle Johnny!”
“Shh, Daisy May.” John turned his attention to Daisy, who slipped out of your bedroom. 
“Uncle Johnny, when will Grace be awake?” Daisy tugged on his jacket. 
“It’s past midnight, girly.” John knelt down to be at Daisy’s level. “You should be sleeping.”
Daisy scrunched up her nose at him. 
“I’ve gotta go help your daddy outside.” John ruffled her hair and stood up. 
“Can I come with you? You can see Piper!”
“Now’s not the time for that, Daisy.” You put your hand on her head. “Uncle John and Aunt Abigail want to get to bed, I’m sure. If you want to go out and help Uncle John bring their things inside, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the help.”
“Course not. Come on, Daisy May.”
You and Abigail watched the duo make their way down the hall. 
“How has John been since he saw Micah?” You started towards the kitchen with Abigail behind you. 
“He’s been angry and on edge. He hasn’t been able to sleep none. I haven’t either. It’s hard to sleep when you know Micah Bell is nearby.” 
“Well you all are safe now. I don’t reckon he’s dumb enough to come up here.” Hosea joined you both in the kitchen. 
“Depends on how desperate he is for that Blackwater money.” You went to stand at the kitchen sink. From there, you could look out towards the barn. You could only see that the barn doors were open and there was light coming from inside. 
“I hoped we had left this all behind ten years ago.” Abigail rubbed her eyes and then brushed her messy hair back. “We’ve worked so hard to get away from that. John’s worked so hard to change.”
“We all have.” Hosea reminded her. “That was the only life we ever knew. It wasn’t easy making what we’ve got now. But that’s why we aren’t gonna roll over and give Micah what he wants.”
You watched as Arthur emerged from the barn with Daisy on his shoulders. John, Jack, and Uncle were right behind them. 
“I just don’t want anyone hurt.” You murmured. “We’ve got too much on the line this time.”
***
The Next Morning
Arms wrapped around you from behind. A smile slipped across your lips. You leaned back against your husband. He kissed the back of your head, rubbing your side with one hand. 
“You’re up early.”
“Someone’s gotta feed everybody.” You hummed, looking over your shoulder to him. 
“You didn’t sleep any last night either.” 
“Neither did you.” You pointed out.
He tightened his grip on you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he buried his nose in your hair. 
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Obviously it’s something.” 
You tried to move out of his arms but he refused to let you go.  
“Arthur, I’ve got to–,”
“Can you just hold on a second?” He moved to stand next to you, looking down at you with furrowed brows. 
“I’ve got to get breakfast made before the kids wake up, Arthur.”
“Stop messing with the breakfast, pumpkin.” He took your hands and pulled you away from the stove. “You were tossing and turning all night.”
“You know why.” Your voice was low as you held his gaze. “All this talk about Micah coming for Hosea, for us…. I can’t help but get upset and anxious. I’m bound to lose sleep over it. And the only thing that can help me keep my cool is making sure the kids are taken care of and that everyone here has something to eat.”
“We don’t even know yet if he is comin’ for us.” Arthur shook his head. “It’s all just speculation.”
“It would be naive of us to assume he wouldn’t.”
“But it’d be too soon to assume he was. There hasn’t been any signs to point that he was. All John saw was Micah in Blackwater and John movin’ him and Abigail and the kids up here to Lupine Valley is just a precautionary measure.” Arthur brushed his hands up and down your arms. “We gotta take this one step at a time. If we start getting ahead of ourselves and losing it too soon, we’ll just…. Well, bad things will happen.”
You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. 
“Why don’t we go out to the porch for a minute? Just for some fresh air?”
“But the breakfast, Arthur.”
“The breakfast can sit here and simmer for a minute.” He put his hand on the small of your back and began to guide you towards the front door. 
The two of you went out to the front porch and sat on the porch swing. Arthur kept his arm around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. He moved the swing back and forth just a bit.
“You know, I almost forgot how much you used to do this.” His voice was low and quiet. 
“Do what?”
“Worry. You worry now, but this…. This is a different kind of worry. The kind that I always thought would give ya a heart attack or something.” He smiled a little at the memories that came flooding back from his time with the Van Der Linde gang. “Every time I went out, I knew you’d be nothin’ but a case of worry and fret.”
“‘Cause I wasn’t sure if you’d come back to me whole or…. Or missing something or even if you’d come back at all.” You murmured. “I used to drive everyone mad at camp. Always had to keep busy when you were gone. Chores with the girls or with Mr. Pearson. I couldn’t sit still. Not until you came back.”
“And then when I’d come back, you’d sleep for hours and hours.” Arthur looked down at you. “You never slept when I was gone.”
“No, I didn’t.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “But that was the good thing about camp. There was always something to do.”
Arthur nodded his head. Silence fell between you both. The sound of morning birds filled the air. But in the distance, Arthur could hear hooves against the dirt road. 
“Stay here a minute.” He muttered under his breath as he stood from the swing.
Your brows furrowed together and you leaned forward, wanting to follow him.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s coming down the road.” He went to the edge of the porch and paused for a moment. 
You moved to stand just behind him, your hand coming up to his back. A horse came into sight a few moments later. It was a familiar one, dark in color with a familiar rider.
Arthur smiled as Sadie stopped the horse just in front of the porch. 
“I didn’t reckon you folks would be up so early.”
“Well, we’ve got a full house right now.” Arthur nodded. “We can talk about it inside.”
“Have you had a long trip, Sadie?” You asked her. “I’m afraid your room is occupied right now but Daisy is in mine and Arthur’s bed if you’d like to rest.”
“I can rest later. Who are your guests?” She tilted her head to the side a bit.
“John and his family.” Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “There might be trouble in Blackwater.”
***
“I haven’t heard anything about Micah being this close. Is John sure he saw Micah?”
“He’s positive.” Arthur nodded his head. 
“I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on the papers. Wherever he and his new band go, they always turn up in the papers. I haven’t seen anything close to West Elizabeth in a few years.” Sadie shook her head, lifting her cup of coffee to her lips. 
“Somehow the standard snuck through.” Arthur muttered, moving towards the window behind the kitchen sink. 
“Maybe he’s traveling with a lighter gang now so he won’t make so much commotion.” You thought out loud.
“That would be unfortunate for us.” Sadie sighed. “Well, I hope you don’t mind one more guest.”
“Of course not.” Arthur shook his head, turning to lean against the sink. 
“But we are running out of room here.” You frowned. “John and Abigail are staying in your room and Daisy’s sleeping in our room while Jack and Grace get Daisy’s room.”
“And Uncle insists on sleeping out in the hayloft.” Arthur added with a shake of his head. “Old bastard can still make it up the ladder somehow. But I know Charles and Lucy have room over at Lone Paradise.”
“Do they know about Micah?”
“Yeah.” Arthur messed with the brim of his hat. 
“How’s Charles taking it?” Sadie shifted around in her seat so she could see Arthur a bit better. 
“He’s on edge, like all of us are. Lucy’s gonna have her baby soon. Last thing we need is Micah Bell”
“Nothin’s gonna happen to Lucy or that baby.” Sadie assured him, shaking her head as she stood to her feet. “I’m gonna walk around y’all’s property a bit then make my way over to Lone Paradise. I’ll bounce back and forth between here and there. You’re separated by a few acres, right?”
“From the house here headin’ west for thirty acres there’s a big oak with an old wagon sittin’ there. That’s where my property ends and his begins. Keep goin’ west for another ten acres and you’ll come up on his barn first. His house is just beyond that.” Arthur explained. 
“It’s quicker that way than it is going the road.” You added. “There’s a trial to follow too so you shouldn’t get lost. We use it often.”
Sadie nodded and began to head for the door. 
“Be safe out there, Sadie.” 
She turned back to look at Arthur before leaving. 
As the front door closed, he let out a soft breath. 
“Feels better havin’ her here.”
You nodded in agreement, standing to your feet. 
“I don’t think we’ve had everyone here since…. Well, since Daisy was sick three years ago.”
“Sure feels like a long time ago.” Arthur mumbled quietly. “It’s funny how time passes but things still…. Things are the same.”
“How so?” You cocked your head to the side a bit as you came to stand in front of your husband. You placed your hand on his stomach, looking up at him. 
“Micah was the problem back then, and he’s the problem still.”
You pressed your lips together as your eyes lowered to the buttons of his shirt. 
“There were a lot of problems back then, Arthur. Micah was just….” You trailed off, unable to think of the right words. 
“He was the root of it all.”
Something moved out of the corner of your eyes. You turned your head to see Daisy standing in the edge of the kitchen. She held in one hand a stuffed bear Hosea had bought her when she was a baby. Carson was right beside her. Her free hand held on to the back of his neck. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were damp. 
“Sweetpea.” Arthur moved away from you so that he could kneel down in front of your daughter. “What happened? What’s got you in tears so early in the mornin’?”
“Had a bad dream.” She sniffled. He used his thumbs to gingerly wipe the tears away. His hands appeared so big as he tenderly cupped her cheeks. “I think I accidentally kicked Carson when I was sleeping.”
Arthur looked down at Carson, who wagged his tail and nosed at Arthur’s arm. 
“Was he layin’ at your feet? I know he likes to do that to watch over you while you sleep.”
“Yeah. I-I woke up and he yipped real loud.” Daisy’s voice hitched in her throat. “Did I hurt him daddy?”
“Where do you think you kicked him, sweetpea?” Arthur kept one hand on Daisy’s side while his other rubbed along Carson’s back and then down each of his legs. 
“I think his chest. Do you think he’s gonna be scared of me, daddy?”
“Don’t be silly, sweetpea.”
“Carson knows you didn’t do it on purpose, Daisy.” You moved to be next to them. 
“I don’t think he’s hurt.” Arthur shook his head. “Think you might’ve just surprised him, sweetpea.”
Daisy stepped closer to Arthur, burying her nose in his neck. He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. 
“It’s still early, sweetpea. You wanna go back to bed? I’ll lay down with you.”
“No. I don’t wanna sleep.”
“Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast almost done.” You brushed your hand along Arthur’s shoulder before turning back to the stove. 
“Yeah, I am.”
“After bit here, you can go wake up Uncle John and Aunt Abigail.” Arthur stood up and in the same motion picked Daisy up. He took her over to the table and placed her down in a chair. “Guess who will be here later on today, sweetpea?”
“Who?”
“Aunt Sadie.”
Daisy’s eyes lit up.
“Really? She’s here!”
“No, well not yet.” Arthur rubbed Daisy’s shoulder. “She’s over at Uncle Charles’s and Aunt Lucy’s. After while, she’ll be coming over here.”
“It’s been forever since I seen her last!”
“I know. It’s gonna be an exciting day.”
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ktheist · 3 years
Text
ghost of a kiss.
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muses. duke’s son!yoongi x marquis’ daughter!reader x crown prince!namjoon / professor!yoongi x student!reader x detective!namjoon
genre. historical au. reincarnation au. modern au. 
words. 5.3k
note. nobody come at me for the header pls. or as bretman used to say, like fuck i’m tryin i’ve only been doin this for 2 hours 😭
x
There weren’t that many things Yoongi wouldn’t do if his father so wills it. Perhaps it was the Min blood coursing through his veins that made him so apathetic to human emotions.
You want to laugh.
You also want to cry, scream and throw the closest thing you have which is your fan at Yoongi’s ever emotionless expression. Just like a blank canvas painted with invisible ink, Yoongi never shows his feelings. Never spoke his mind.
Well, not around you at least.
It was as if you were just a pretty little doll for him to play with –no, he doesn’t even pay you any mind. He just sat there, sipping on the cherry blossom tea that the maid poured into his cup and gave one worded answers to the questions you asked after your endless chatter came to, well, an end.
After that, he put up with you a little bit longer when you insisted you’d wanted to escort him out of the garden and to the front of the mansion where his carriage awaited.
“Until we meet again, my lady,” he would bow but you would hold out your hand for him to place a ghost of a kiss on like lovers would.
It was always you who were asking for too much.
Always you who were a slave for his affection.
But instead of doing all of those things you dreamed of doing when you meet him again –and meet him, you do– you end up running past the grandeur doors of the ballroom, down the red carpet splayed hallway and into the gardens where red roses glimmer with dew drops underneath the moon rays.
What a heartbreakingly beautiful set up for a damsel with a broken heart.
“My lady,” it hasn’t even been five minutes when you hear that stone cold voice of Yoongi.
“Why couldn’t you just pretend you didn’t see me running like a scared, defenseless mouse after we met. After all, you’ve always been good at that –pretending like I don’t exist.” You wanted to laugh and laugh, you did. It sounds withered, unlike the full blooms of floral that surrounds you two.
“As your fiance, I have a duty to–”
“Duty.” You spit out the word like it’s poison, “was visiting me every fortnight for tea a duty of yours too?”
The corners of your eyes are red from roughly rubbing the traces of tears that threatens to fall on your cheeks and ruin your makeup.
You take a deep breath before turning to him, pushing down a silent sniffle.
“As you may have heard from your father, Duke Min, you’re relieved from that cumbersome duty,” you hold your chin high.
As you should.
Yoongi Min stares at you a moment longer than he usually would. Is it the hair? Your hair’s grown since he last saw you. 
Or perhaps the bodice that wraps around you and enhances your curves and bosoms. 
‘Perhaps’, you somberly admits, ‘he simply forgot how I looked after four years.’
“As you should have heard from the Marquis,” Yoongi presses, “I refuse to break the engagement.”
“Wha–” the word slips past your lips before you even register it.
“It can’t be undone, his Majesty already approves of the annulment,” you know you’re repeating words your father and brother uttered. Like a hopeful little mouse in the face of a black panther.
“Only with the Majesty’s approval can you request to break the engagement but it’s up to the Min’s if we wish to grant your request –I reject it.” Yoongi stands only a few feet away from you, his eyes appearing darker than black, shadowed by the moonlight.
When he steps forward and out of the shadow, you find yourself forgetting how to breathe. Like a beast in the night, he ambles his way to you elegantly and swiftly.
Before you know it, Yoongi is standing in front of you. And you, a captor beneath those haunting, onyx, splendor. His gloved fingers twirl a strand of your hair around them before he brings the golden locks to his lips.
“I loved you blindly, Sir Min,” you send your gratitude to the gods and goddesses for the stillness in your voice, “I longed for you like a sailor long to sail the seven seas but do you know what’s so wretched about this sort of longing? Only a lucky few manage to love without drowning.”
Your slender fingers curl around his wrist. Even then, you couldn’t close your fist around it –your hand is too small and delicate compared to his. And at times like these, you’re reminded of how woman you are and how man, he is.
“Release me,” the air feels cold against your now damp cheek but your heart is icier, “once and for all. At the very least, I’ll be able to marry a humble Count who’ll receive part of my inheritance once my father dies.”
The scoff that leaves the man’s lips sends shivers down your spine.
“A humble count,” his eyes gleam with mockery, as if he finds your words ironic, “did the Crown Prince of the Isira Dynasty not propose to you? Did you not come back for the sole purpose to tell me you’re abandoning me?”
You suspected the rumors of your getting closer to the Crown Prince, Namjoon, would spread over the continent.
“If you know, then let me go.” You say steely.
It’s the rawness in your tear-stained eyes that steals Yoongi’s breath away. The night breeze that blows past him almost sends him tumbling down like waves crashing against the shore.
“[Name],” he speaks your name for the first time in a long time, the syllables rolling off his tongue like sweet honey, “I’m not a man of many words. I don’t know how to–”
“You didn’t know how to kill either but you got better at it with practice!” Your throat feels as if it’s being grazed by sandpaper.
Your heart, on fire.
It’s the first time you’ve shown a different emotion than that heartwarming smile that looks like you’re meant for spring and blooming flowers. In that blissful moment, you look like one of the crimson roses that bear witness to you and Yoongi’s altercations.
“That’s right, I know what you do,” you nod, gaze burning with acid tears, “all those months spent waiting for you to come back from those expeditions. Monsters weren’t the only thing you slayed, were they?”
“No,” Yoongi breathes out and for some reason, his chest feels like it’s going to cave in and crush his heart.
The sensation is alien to him. Hell, he didn’t know he had a heart to begin with. It was just an organ that kept his blood pumping –he’d gladly tore it out and gave it to his dearest fiancée if she so much asked for it.
But now – now – she’s saying she wants no part of it. 
The realization comes to him like poisonous smoke. Spreading around the hollowed part of his chest and seeps into that beating organ of his. Before he knows it, you’re already slipping out of his grasp.
“I’ll break off the engagement,” he finally says, his brain not registering the words that left his mouth, “for a kiss.”
But his heart knows what he wants.
You look at him like he’s crazy, eyes going round and glossed lips parting in a silent gasp. But when he makes no attempt to correct his words, realization gradually settles in.
“Make it quick.”
Long lashes flutter shut, lips pressed in a straight, unwilling line. The hand that clasps around his wrist falls to your side. Your shoulders are tense. You look like you’d rather be with those chimeras Jeongguk’s breeding than here. 
Yoongi takes another step toward you. 
Your eyebrows knit together when his gloved knuckles caress your cheekbone. The sharp inhale of breath you take as you brace herself doesn’t go past him. A rose, even in the face of the hands that threatens to pluck it, remains fierce and grounded.
The wait feels endless. As if time passes agonizingly slow yet the only indication that time hasn’t halted altogether is the way your heart keeps palpitating inside your chest as though it’s about to explode any second.
Then you feel them –a pair of softest, ghostly, lips on your forehead. As opposed to the hand kisses he left you, this one lingers with a sort of yearning. And even then, it feels short-lived.
As though you will never have enough of Yoongi Min.
“My lady, you look disappointed, if you wanted me to kiss you elsewhere, you should’ve said so.” There’s a mirth in his tone. And for a moment, you feel warm, like the warmth of the sun hugging you.
“What if I did?”
You want to ask but you decide against it. Thrusting your chin up like the noblest of women would, you remind him of the deal, “I’ll send someone to retrieve the annulment papers in a week’s time. I assume it will bear your signature, sir.”
With that, you walk past him, your laced hand brushing against his gloved one but even on the verge of goodbyes, Yoongi Min doesn’t let you walk out of it that easily. His pinky finger hooks around yours like a rusted, weak chain. Unsure whether to keep holding on or letting go.
Yet your feet stop dead in their tracks. Your heart races. Deep down, you know you want him to hold onto you like you held onto him for ten, pitiful years.
“Have a good evening, my lady,” is all he says, his hand falling away and he begins strutting to the opposite direction you’re heading even though there’s nothing in that direction besides a maze made of rose beds.
But you don’t plan to ponder too much on it. Namjoon, the Crown Prince, is waiting for you back in Isira where you’ll build a new home. A new life. And with a loving husband.
Or so you thought. 
x
That was a lifetime ago. To say you opened your eyes to a twenty-one year old body in a world plagued by motor engine propelled and electronic devices –would be a lie. 
This body is yours.
This life is yours.
You remember your first step, first successful ride on the bike after your father took off the supporting wheels, your first fall and the rest of your firsts, seconds, thirds and so on. And as such, you remember your first time meeting Min Yoongi.
At the age of twenty-one and him, twenty-six, his emotions are hard to pinpoint.
He isn’t much different in this lifetime.
His hair is a shade of rich brown that could easily pass as black if he’s not walking underneath the sunlight. He’s taller than the twenty-two year old boy you last saw before your carriage crashed into the ditch –that was the last thing you remembered from your last life. 
No, you didn’t die. But the rest of your life past that point was blurry.
And here he comes, all in his dark colored vest over a white undershirt and black trousers. Professor Min Yoongi is nothing short of perfection.
“[Name], do you have a minute?” He approaches you like a panther; soundless and undetectable.
Before you know it, he’s five feet away from you and if you were to make a quick u-turn, it would be too obvious.
“I’m afraid not professor, I’m sorry, should I email you at a later time so we can discuss matters of my assistantship?” You put on your best smile and he lifts a dubious brow that screams that he sees right through your lie. 
Yet he doesn’t press on.
Instead, he offers another alternative –though completely disregarding the last bit about the email, “right, then meet me after class.”
“I-I’m afraid I can’t do that either professor, I have to rush to Cyber, right after–!” You almost choke on your words.
“I’ll talk to Professor Park about that,” he says simply and taps you on your shoulder like any good-natured professor would with his top-performing student.
It just so happens that you’re extremely good at the class he teaches, which, ironically, is Neurocriminology.
x
“Professor Min?” You knock on the intimidating wooden door and hear a curt ‘come in’ from the other side before pushing the door open.
Behind his desk, Yoongi looks up at you through his long lashes and straight into the windows of your soul.
Even in your second life, his piercing stare affects you.
But you tell yourself that it’s because he’s just devilishly handsome and you’re humbly a woman. 
That, and he and Professor Park Jimin are the youngest professors in the department.
“Those assignments over there need sorting.” Yoongi points to the pile of papers in a box perched on the coffee table as though waiting for you to arrive.
“Yes, professor,” you breathe through your mouth and swallow back the words of accusation that threaten to fall past your lips.
You did volunteer to be a student assistant but you never thought, in a million years, that the man who resembled your fiancé in the past… Well, on paper at least. You never thought he would pick you as his supervisee.
The room is silent save for the rustling sound of papers fluttering as you shift through each assignment and place them alphabetical orders of the name. Every once in a while, you can’t help but steal glances at the man seated behind the desk. With his hair slicked back and the cuffs of his wrist rolled up to his elbow, he looks like every girl’s modern day prince charming.
“Why are you so keen on running away from me?” His husked tone cuts through the silence.
“Pardon, professor?” You blink, not catching the meaning of his words until a moment later.
Your cheeks heat up under his piercing gaze, the recollection of the occasions you fast-walked to lose him in the hallways burning in the back of your mind.
“I-it seems I always have places to be… classes to attend, I’ll make sure to meet you every morning to confirm my tasks, professor,” you can’t just confess that he has a face and name of the man you once loved in your past life.
If you so much spoke of your remembering you’d be sent to the asylum.
A ghost of a smile tugs on the corners of his lips but it was gone as soon as it came. You’re not sure if you’re just seeing things.
“Very well, send me the location of your apartment so I can pick you up tomorrow,” he doesn’t look up from the screen of his Mac when he says that.
“P-professor?” You blink, disbelief coloring your complexion.
“You said you’d meet me every morning, yes? I always have my breakfast at 7:30 AM at The Curve, we can discuss matters of your tasks over breakfast.” He goes on like it’s just another day of him assigning you a task to complete.
x
The next morning, you sit with your back straight, staring at the pancakes Yoongi ordered for you. The sweater he wears over his vest makes him seem more relaxed than his usual vest and tie look. His long lashes almost brush the top of his cheek as he casts his gaze down at the leaf shaped latte he’s drinking.
“Professor, I double checked with the administration office and they gave me a list of things I have to do to complete my assistantship. From the tasks you’d given me, I checked off at least three of the requirements,” you take out an azure blue notebook where you flip to a page that has a piece of paper and slides it across the table.
“You came prepared,” he muses, an amused smile playing on his lips and your little heart does its little flips.
“I take it you’re writing a paper on neuroscience and human behavior –if there’s anything, I can help you with, please let me know,” you return his smile with a schooled one –the kind that you use when you’re dealing with strangers.
“Sure,” the professor nods, “I could use some help researching neurodivergence.”
The conversation flows smoothly. The worries you harbored for the whole of your university life now dissipated. You were at your most comfortable when it comes to academia. Your passion lies in your interest in criminology and the one man who you could engage in an intellectual conversation is none other than the man whom you tried so hard to avoid.
At some point, you think your worries, silly. Just because they share the same face and name, doesn’t mean they share the same memory. For all you knew, you could be the one in a million who remembers your past life.
That is, until Yoongi asks, “were you happy?”
He uses the word ‘were’ to refer to the past. It takes you a moment to register that he didn’t mean your childhood nor adolescent years.
And when you finally put two and two together, you can almost hear your heart drop. You thought you’d be sweating bullets and heaving for air from the tangible pressure this conversation brings.
But before you could say anything, Yoongi speaks again, “I won’t push for an answer, I know where that led me before.”
He casts his gaze down, long, nimble fingers picking up the cup of latte and making the regular sized cup seem miniature in his hand.
x
It’s a few days later, as you accompany him to another university to meet with a fellow specialist, that you finally say, “you never pushed me.”
Stirring the cup of black coffee, sitting at one of the round, two-persons tables in the cafe of the Sociology Department, you go on, “in fact, you never asked for anything at all. I was always the one asking for too much, giving just as much.”
‘I loved you too intensely and I burned too bright.’ These are the words you never dare say.
Loved.
Because you don’t love Min Yoongi anymore.
Perhaps, that’s why you’re unusually calm.
“I can’t remember everything –only bits and pieces. That night,” you swallow –you don’t need to steal a glance at him to know he’s thinking of the same night; the night you said your goodbyes, “after the carriage crashed, I remembered seeing shadows clash against one another. Namjoon’s men went against the assassins who came for me because I was the rumored Crown Prince’s soon-to-be fiancée. I had to go into hiding after he was demoted to a mere prince because of his brothers’ schemes… at some point, I remember starving because we had nothing to eat.”
A new identity was all Namjoon could offer for his beloved. He spoke of claiming back the throne that was rightfully his yet his supporters scattered all over the continents after the siege. Their spirit waned overtime. He came for you after the shadows saved you but you both lived in poverty until one shriveled up like a dead flower and the other went mad for the crown that was once his.
The way his fists clench with remorseful anger doesn’t go past you, it’s almost as though you can hear him blaming himself for your choices.
You smile wistfully, “but yes, I remember being happy,” the smile tugs into a straight line as you face him with conviction, “would I give everything up for that sliver of happiness again? No,” you shake your head, “now I just want money.”
Yoongi laughs. Like truly laughs out loud with his shoulderline shaking and hand on his stomach. The sound lacks the menace that you remembered him to wear around him like a cloak.
All of a sudden, the air seems to change. The tension you once felt, now dissipated into thin air. A familiar warmth creeps up your neck but you mask it with indifference.
You can’t afford to fall for him all over again.
Not when you’ve had a lifetime to mull over and decide these feelings would die with you –get buried with you.
“What happened after your sister ruined the dukedom?” It’s when you both got to this point of the conversation that you felt your heart writhe inside your chest.
As if physically hurting for the fate that befell Yoongi –at this point, it was just an assumption, but you were sure that–
“Aera tracked us one by one until she killed every single Min,” he says simply, as if talking about a cherished sister who up and left home with the family’s savings a few hundred years ago, “she was the best of us. She knew people like us couldn’t be left alone to live a quiet life.”
In the lulled silence, you notice the festering remorse that dances in his eyes.
He clasps his palm over his mouth as he stares out of the window, “of course, things are different now. We’re not allowed to kill.”
At that, you almost spat out the coffee you’re downing. You couldn’t believe your ears.
“It was illegal to kill then, you and your family did it anyway because you were just so– so… messed up!” You explode partly, voice lowered as you lean over the table, cautious of anyone nearby who might hear you.
“Aren’t you glad neurocriminology gives justification to murderers, well, murdering nowadays?” He smirks, one corner of his lip tugging upwards.
You find yourself breathing in sharply as your heart skips a beat at the sight of Min Yoongi’s dark humor.
The Yoongi in your past life would never be able to even understand a joke –you were sure.
But now it’s you who doesn’t appreciate the humor.
“Is that why you became a professor?” It’s apparent in the way your brows knit together.
“Rather, paired with my previous… knowledge, it’s an easier way to get a PhD and a stable earning,” the shrug makes him appear boyish –younger than he is.
For some reason, he was several years older than you in this lifetime compared to the last.
“Apparently mine deems that I marry rich,” you remark playfully.
“Then, shall we get married? I missed my chance in my previous lifetime and I’m kind of well off in this lifetime,” it’s the easy suggestion of marriage that makes you almost choke on the pancake you just directed into your mouth.
“Professor, there’s just something you don’t joke about,” you say after gaining a semblance of your composure yet your heartbeat drums in your ears and your cheeks feel as though they’re on fire.
Why are you so happy to hear that Min Yoongi, your former fiancé and beloved, entertained the idea of marriage with you even in this lifetime?
x
“Your sisters... do they remember?” Yoongi asks one fine evening as you’re surfing the internet to research the needed materials he tasked you with.
“How did you know I have sisters?” You blink, surprised.
Yoongi had to mask the involuntary smile that tugs on the corners of his lips when he sees how lovely and adorable of a face you’re making.
“You mentioned them before,” he states, “even if you didn’t, I’d suspect as much since I was born with the same siblings from the previous lifetime –for now, it’s me, Aera and Hoseok, who knows where my dad hid the rest of his children and mistresses.”
“They don’t remember, I tried asking when I first started remembering –was it at the age of eight? They looked at me like a devil just possessed their little sister,” you sigh softly, “it’s better this way. Life isn’t all that easy for them either in the past.”
The cherry blossom tree standing tall and proud one the edge of the field is positioned so that anyone who stood in front of his window would get a full view of raining, pink petals.
“Why do you think we remember?” You ask, staring at the petal that fluttered into the room and found itself atop Yoongi’s deep brown lock.
“I’d say fate’s giving us a second chance but you’d laugh at me,” he plainly says, flipping a page of the journal he’s reading.
And laugh at him, you do, “professor, I didn’t take you for a hopeless romantic!”
x
“We both changed, you and I,” you told him over dinner at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.
The piano playing in the background and the dim lighting gives off an atmosphere of a romantic evening. The waiter even thought you were a couple and offered a couple’s discount.
Yoongi being Yoongi, accepted it right away and called you his ‘darling’. Your cheeks burn up for a good fifteen minutes until the wine comes and you finish the whole glass in a few gulps.
“No shit, Sherlock,” he agrees wholeheartedly without even looking up from the menu, “for one, I’m not some apathetic maniac who goes around wielding spears.”
“No, you’re my professor and I’m your student, we should never be caught dead having dinner together,” you shoot him a rebellious grin to which he nods.
“Touche,” he acknowledges.
x
A week later, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a blonde haired, hazel eyed man approaching you and Yoongi. You’d stepped behind Yoongi’s broad shoulders, the man almost didn’t notice you at all.
He’s supposed to give a talk on neurocriminology –a guest of Yoongi’s.
“Are you okay?” He asks after you’re back in his office, he pulls you away from the spotlight when he notices your forced mechanical smile and fingers tugging at your sleeves.
“I know, right? Why did I get so weird like that?” You laugh to yourself, as though engulfed in your own world.
It doesn’t take a genius to – or perhaps, Min Yoongi was that, so that’s why he successfully – put two and two together and figured out that his esteemed guest is the reincarnation of Namjoon.
The blond didn’t seem to recognize you though.
But that didn’t stop him from taking an interest in you.
“[Name]... that student of yours, is she single?” Namjoon asked when they were out for dinner with the other professors but before Yoongi could even respond, the blond was already laughing it off, “nevermind, forget what I said. You wouldn’t happen to know anyway.”
“Don’t go around flirting with my students, they need to focus on getting a degree first before anything else,” Yoongi jokingly warned.
Something in his stomach twists and turns, as if a snake was slithering around his intestines, spreading its venom all over him.
But that did nothing to stop you and Namjoon from exchanging numbers and going out to brunches and dinners like he did with you. You keep on tugging on her sleeve and pushing your hair to the back of her ear when you spoke to Namjoon at the next talk he was invited to.
Much to Yoongi’s surprise, despite your obvious discomfort, you’re the one who suggested inviting Namjoonfor the new semester and handled all the matters pertaining to the talk.
x
“I don’t want to push you because if I do, you’d drift farther away from me and if I pull, you’ll recoil and take ten steps back –there’s no right way,” Min Yoongi has you trapped between the door and his body one afternoon. Particularly, after he saw the name Joonie flash across your screen as your phone vibrates.
You excused yourself to answer the call but just as your hand touched the door handle, his hand rested on top of yours, stopping you from walking out of his office.
“Wh-what are you saying, professor?” You stammer, the now still phone held in front of your chest.
He thinks he sees the tip of your ear turn red but it could be because of the fading winter air.
It was always uncomfortable to watch you and Namjoon interact but Yoongi attributed it to the fact that one remembered the times they spent together in their past life and the other having absolutely no idea yet still falling for your charms either way.
He twirls a strand of your hair around his index finger before he kisses it, “he may have your heart but I’ve loved you first –I’ve always loved you first.”
“P-professor-!” You exclaim, heels turning and so does your body.
No doubt, your sole purpose of turning around to face him is to caution him of his bold declaration –you were like an open book that Yoongi could just pick up and flip the pages to. You’d always been readable, even back then. Perhaps, that was why it felt like a hand clawed through his chest and wraps its talons around his heart each time you put up walls and turn away his subtle advances.
Because he knows winter has long settled in the hollowed part of your chest.
But because of how he was leaning down to kiss your hair, you end up face to face with only inches apart. There’s no mistaking the blush that spreads across your face, washing away the initial surprise of finding yourself so close to him.
“Call me Yoongi,” he implores with that deep, husky voice of his.
It’s the way he looks at you. Like he’s frightened beyond belief that you’d do exactly what he thought you would; take ten steps back –that makes your heart thump unceremoniously in your chest.
“Y-yoongi… we shouldn’t…” you murmur weakly, eyes tracing his soft lips before snapping up to meet his gaze.
“May I kiss you?” He knows he should let you go to answer the call –what you do and who you see in this lifetime is none of his business.
And yet, he can’t bear the thought of you walking away from him in this lifetime. Not when there’s the second chance he made a pact with the devil for.
Fate and the devil, what difference are there if they meant to serve one purpose?
You nod.
And all of a sudden, he’s back where it all ended. In that garden where roses bore witness to their tragic love affair.
He leans in and presses his lips on your forehead ever so gently –it feels as though if he puts any more pressure, you’d break like you’re made of glass.
“Kiss me for real –if you kiss me on the forehead, it feels like you’re saying goodbye,” your eyes flutter open and your brows join together in protest, he feels you tug on his shirt impatiently.
The softest of smiles graces Yoongi’s lips and you think your heart is going to explode into millions of pieces. Is it not enough that he’s the reason you almost forgot to breathe?
“Wasn’t it you who was itching to run away from me?” He teases, pinching your cheek and just like his hand kisses –you still feel them ghost over the back of your hand every once in a while– his touches are feather light.
“Only because you were an emotionally constipated idiot.” You argue back, lips puckered in protest.
“Then, if I may… my lady…” he trails off, index finger curled under her chin, tilting you face up.
“You may,” you giggle against his lips, arms tracing up the planes of his abs to his chest and find home around his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.
x
(“I was only putting up with Namjoon because he’s the head of the criminology department in Incheon –I was thinking of applying for a job there after graduating.” You confess some time later once you’re at le Saumon de Bord du Lac.
“Huh,” Dion blinks, not expecting that.
“Did you think I was going to date him in this lifetime?” You giggle as if you already know the answer, “true, he’s still as handsome as ever, but we did go broke and… I never truly loved him.”
You cast her gaze down, cheeks burning with warmth, shyness overcoming you all of a sudden. If he could, Yoongi would gather her in his arms and embrace her like he’ll never let go.
But he settles with a reach of his hand on top of yours on the table, thumb caressing the spot just below the knuckle of your fourth finger.
“In this lifetime… definitely.”)
x
note. this was shared on a discord server and posted on wattpad under a different pseudonym! 
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snaxpo · 3 years
Text
fuck it bugsnax/s4m au notes
alternate title: i’m at that point in liking something where i have to combine it with everything else i’ve liked previously and today i’m making that everyone else’s problem. 
- base premise is a lil different! instead of being a journalist who was invited personally to the island by the expedition leader, you (or FK if you consider them a separate character from the player) are tasked with investigating the habitat, a budding commune on snaktooth island that may or may not be devolving into a cult. there’s just one teeny tiny problem - the commune’s leader and also your main suspect, boris habit, has been missing for weeks by the time you arrive. 
- now it’s a matter of gaining the inhabitants’ trust/getting them to come back to the habitat while hunting and subduing the bugsnax, who seem increasingly eager to launch themselves at inhabitants at quite literally dangerous speeds, in a battle of wits to keep your newfound companions fed while documenting the strange creatures. and of course, the question of just what happened to boris habit still lingers in the air. think like... talentless nana where the protag pretends to be all cute and unassuming (complete with flower motifs!) but really they’re there on Super Secret Spy Business. but of course there’s less murder. 
- oddly the bugsnax seem to have only become more aggressive after his disappearance. i’m sure it’s nothing. 
- yes everyone is still a grumpus
- there isn’t really an interview “mechanic” so much as it is a Lot of cozying up to everybody in pursuit of whatever information you can find on habit/potential group rituals/events that led to his disappearance; you get it by bits and pieces rather than a single structured interview. there is of course a lot more interactions between characters than there is in s4m’s base game bc thats like 60% of the appeal of bugsnax and i would be a fool not to think of it.
- time for ideas for specific characters! kamal is the vice-mayor of the habitat and has been habit’s right-hand grump for as long as any of the inhabitants can remember, despite their relationship becoming increasingly strained ever since their arrival on the island, and especially before habit’s disappearance. i imagine you still find him passed out but instead of collapsing from starvation he’s like "please.... toothpaste... a breath mint.... some pepto bismol. i’ve been able to taste my own breath for weeks." has been trying to divide his time between looking after the habitat and looking for habit himself (and also his best friend wallus) but the dispersal of the habitat has left him a tad Demoralized, to say the least.
- i feel like trencil would play a wambus-adjacent role in the sense that he's the one taking care of the sauce plants and also one of the first townspeople you meet. you convince to come back with you not necessarily bc he'd be able to continue farming in town but bc he would probably have an easier time looking for his daughter if he got some sleep first (but only if you look for her in his stead)
- gillis is like. a wannabe chandlo. makes you capture a bunch of snax that he Says he's gonna use to get stronger but eventually you find out he's been releasing them or keeping them in like lil makeshift pet houses bc he always takes one look at their big googly eyes and turns to mush. but EVERYONE'S eating them so naturally if they find out he's not they're gonna think he's some kinda wuss so he just pretends. 
- dallas keeps asking for sweet n colorful bugsnax to give to mirphy to impress her (sweetieflies, instabugs, etc etc.) but by some streak of bad luck they always end up being her least favorite. he tries to see if Maybe he can use them to make some new bugsnak-exclusive pigments, but like in canon they always end up turning into mush before he can get very far. mirphy meanwhile is far more interested in preserving them for a potential display, but similar to dallas, she never gets very far.
- i imagine the kid habiticians are like. a roving band of semi-feral children bc if anyone's gonna keep them in town it's definitely not kamal.
- i wanna do something with wallus SO BAD like you find him somewhere up in frosted peak but i have no idea what he would even DO its fucking killing me
- those are all the ideas i have For Now; s4m has more characters than bugsnax so there’s a lot to be done w/ them lmao. if i think of any more i’ll probably put it in another post or if anybody wants to spitball with me.......  👀
- and now we get to The Big Guns: habit.
- he was fun to work on w/ this au mostly bc despite being the rough equivalent of lizbert he’s a way different type of flawed leader than her; where liz is responsible to the point of martyring herself without a second thought and not thinking to delegate any tasks to the other snaxburg residents, which is what ultimately causes them to fall apart once she disappears, habit's deal is that he wants the position and appearance of an authority figure because it'll keep him safe, but he kind of sucks at taking responsibility for anything he does wrong because he’s spent most of his life acting according to what other people (namely his family) expect of him and being met with a negative reception no matter what, so he doesn’t really believe he has power over anything, including his own actions, despite being such a control freak for most of his own game. so his arc would need something that’s kind of antithetical to what liz had, wouldn’t it?
- so what i got so far is that au habit was tryin to covertly start a bugsnax cult bc he sees being asborbed by the snax as a sort of ascension and was eventually planning to have everyone be absorbed; it’s important to note however that bc information on bugsnax is so obscure he doesn’t actually 100% know how absorption works so tl;dr: habit became the bugsnax monarch willingly and then 5 seconds later he was like "oh no wait this fucking sucks. what have i done. shit. fuck."
- unable to cope with the realization that he was once again forced to act in accordance to someone (or in this case something) else's desires, he shuts down emotionally, becoming an empty husk of a grumpus while the bugsnax above run rampant thanks to the extra fuel and absolutely no restrictions until the Big Climax when habit is finally moved to take back control of the snax and by proxy Take Some Fucking Responsibility for knowingly luring people to cthulhu island. however this does leave the obvious question of if he was such an empty shell for most of the game why didn’t they just. eat him.
- the answer i eventually landed on was that his self-preservation instincts were still kicking on a subconscious level and during the aforementioned climax he eventually realizes that he does not in fact want to die, he just doesn’t want to keep living the way he is now (as part of an ancient hivemind beyond his understanding) or the way he was before (you know.)
- also fun fact: i was thinking about what his monarch body would be based off of bc the snakdragon, while cool as shit, didn’t feel right for him, and then i remembered that blooming onions exist. i imagine he’s in the middle acting as the flower’s “stigma”
- as for endings i’m thinking like. in the neutral ending kamal joins habit but its left ambiguous whether or not they'll ever be able to leave the island or if this is even a permanent solution (call that the paw in unloveable paw ending). in the good ending you bust habit outta his queen body after fending off enough bugsnax together and it’s super gross bc the undersnax as a whole is super gross but hey at least everyone’s leaving alive. i don’t know what a bad ending entails except most if not all of the cast is dead and habit is left alone on the island surrounded by reminders of his spectacular failure.
- hell i can even think of a sequel hook for the good ending like in canon bugsnax; some time after the ending/credits you ask habit just Where did he get the information on bugsnax that led to him being like “you could make a religion out of this” and the screen fades to black before you hear his answer. there.
- its almost midnight.
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crashdevlin · 3 years
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Leftoverture 3- Carry On
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Author’s Note: Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. This is where Leftoverture officially crosses over with Crash Into Me!
Summary: Sam tries to convince Dean to talk to his widow, but it takes a visit from an old friend to get him to do the right thing.
Pairing: Dean x OFC
Word count: 3755
Story Warnings: angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, get off the phone. Who are you texting?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam’s thumbs tapping out a message.
“I’m...just letting some people know that you’re back, okay? What?” Sam defended, pulling his phone out of Dean’s reach as his brother tried to grab it.
“She better not be part of that group text, Sam. I will kick your lanky ass.”
“Dean, come on.”
“She has mourned me! She’s probably just starting to get okay and you want me to break that? Not to mention the kid. How are we supposed to explain to her that I’m just suddenly not dead anymore?” Dean pulled over onto the shoulder and glared at Sam until he rolled his eyes and sighed, hitting the X to take his sister-in-law’s number away from the list that included Bobby 2.0, Jody, Donna, Charlie 2.0, and Garth. “Thank you.”
“It’s only been a month. You think she’s starting to get over you already?” Sam finished tapping out his text as Dean pulled back onto the interstate.
“I think I’m a threat to her life as long as I’m in her life, man. I mean, that’s why it took us so long to get together in the first place, because I knew that me being a hunter was gonna put her in the ground and it was just lucky for all of us that it put me in the ground before her.”
“Don’t say th-”
“It’s better for her to think I’m still dead!” Dean exploded. “If she knows I’m alive, she’ll come back to the bunker and she’s gonna end up dead and that’ll be on me! Okay, it’s better if she thinks I’m dead and we keep it that way!”
“So, I guess you’ve made up your mind on this one?” Sam asked.
“Yes!” Dean nodded, somehow still keeping his eyes on the road. “You know what, yes, I’ve made up my mind. Because she deserves to live a life that I’m not ruining. She never wanted the job to encroach on her life, or Rebel’s, okay? Fuck, if I ended up getting that little girl hurt, I could nev--and you know she only agreed to marry me in the first place because Chuck was gonna kill us all anyway and he’s not a problem anymore and what happened to my ring when I bit it? You didn’t burn it with me, did you, because that was a really good silver ring and if you melted it with me, I’m gonna be pissed.”
Sam shook his head in disappointment. “Your wife was wearing it on her thumb last time I saw it.”
Dean sighed and licked his lips. “It’s better this way, Sam. I know you don’t see it, but it’s better.”
“Right. You, uh, you remember when you guys were ‘just friends’ and she started dating that asshole that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant?” Dean’s jaw clenched tight at the memory. “You remember how pissed off you got that she was dating someone, let alone a Dom dickbag like him, and how you spent the entire weekend trying to get dirt on him to use to get her to dump him?”
"He was tryin' to put things in her while she was drunk! He deserved a bullet through the skull for that shit and he's lucky she wouldn't let me go talk to him."
"Yeah, I know. He was a piece of shit, but you didn't know that when we got there. You just didn’t like him because he was dating her."
"I'm a good judge of character and she is not. She dates douchebags. She always has. I mean, look at her cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-husband. If she's dating them, they're douchebags."
Sam rolled his eyes, obviously catching Dean’s self-deprecating undertone in that sentence. "Okay, but you're just gonna let her date someone else? You're gonna let her find some other douchebag to date that you won't be able to save her from?"
"I didn't save her from Mike or Drew. She was already half out the door on both of them before I interceded with either. And I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work." Dean pointed his finger in Sam’s face. "You're not gonna get me all jealous so I go find her because I'm afraid of her getting over me and moving on. I want her to move on. I want her to have a good life. That's the whole point here, man."
"Dean, she's not going to move on. She's gonna be devastated the rest of her life because you aren't-"
"So, we should make it worse by putting her through it twice?!" Dean snapped. "We should make her have to watch me burn another time, right? We should make her clear her shit out of the Bunker in a few years too? We should make her live with the hope that one day I'll manage to make it home again? We should put her heart back together just to shatter it into pieces again when I die permanently? Fuck you, Sam. I can't do it to her. I just...no."
Sam took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "Fine."
"It's better this way. It's just better."
"Sure. It’s better.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was something cleansing about a simple werewolf hunt. Sam was being a little overbearing, but Dean understood why. Sam didn’t want to see him die anymore than he wanted to die again. There were only two wolves and they went down easy. It was a textbook hunt...just like the vampire cult should have been.
Sam shook away memories of the night in the barn and followed an energized Dean out to the Impala. It wouldn’t happen again. Not anytime soon. Dean was around to stay. Sam would make sure of it.
“So, hit the motel, pizza and beer, head back to the bunker in the morning. Did you report my death to the fire department because I’m still wanting that job and I’ll have to think of one hell of an excuse if you told them I died.” Dean shrugged, continuing before Sam could respond. “I’m gonna need to come up with an excuse either way, but an excuse for a month of radio silence is easier than an excuse for comin’ out of the Lazarus Pit, ya know?”
“I...didn’t say anything to them, Dean. It was really low on my list of priorities to tell the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department that Dean Campbell was dead.”
“Awesome. I’ll figure out what to tell them. For now...pizza.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No, I know, it was a crazy situation, but I honestly think getting lost in the Yukon without a cell phone was probably the best thing that could have happened to me." Dean laughed into the phone as he walked into the library. "Yeah, exactly. Never gonna take a warm, dry bed for granted again. Well, thank you so much for understanding, Captain. I'm excited to get training. That's gonna be...yeah, I'm gonna be there. Thanks again."
Dean smiled as he tucked his phone into his pocket. "He bought it. Thanks for putting those fake Canadian news pieces up. Appreciate it."
"Okay, but what if someone else searches your fake name, Dean?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "You think she's Googling me?" He stepped forward and looked down at Sam sitting at the library table. "She Googles me and she'll find a story about a man named Dean Campbell getting lost in the Yukon and surviving on moose and wolverine and melted snow. No pic, no identifying words. She'll look at it, say 'It is a miracle this guy survived' and then she'll move on to the next search result, okay? I don't understand why you're all up in my business about this but-"
"You don't miss them?" Sam asked, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning forward.
Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I do not."
Sam stood and looked down into his brother's eyes. "Well, I do."
"Well, they're staying gone." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and walked toward the hall. "Good talk."
He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his hand down his face. Of course he missed her. Of course he missed the little girl he treated as his own daughter...or...the other Dean treated like a daughter. It was just too difficult. Explaining to his wife was one thing, an easy thing. She’d come back in a heartbeat and it would all be fine between them. She wouldn’t care that he wasn’t exactly the same in body, that he had different scars and a slightly different pattern of freckles or that his hair wasn’t quite right even after trying to make it work for four damn days.
She fell for him because of how he treated her, how safe she felt with him, how he made her feel. All of that was in the memories. How he felt about her was in the memories, too. He loved her in a way he'd never been able to let himself love anyone else. She was so much different than any other woman he'd considered making a life with because she was like all the best parts of them all mixed together. She was smart like Cassie Robinson, badass like Jo Harvelle, understanding of the Life without being part of it...with a kid, just like Lisa. He remembered that...and he knew that he'd never find another woman like her.
That was okay. He didn't really want another one: another woman, partner, wife. He couldn’t see himself opening up like that to someone other than his short little badass. And Sam was right that he didn't really want her with someone else, either...but she deserved it. She deserved to get over him and move on to greener pastures. So he had to stay away. For her good, he had to stay dead.
For the good of the little girl, too. If he just came back from the dead, it would completely fuck that little girl's understanding of life and death. It would fuck her up for life.
Dean sighed, picking up his phone and kissing his lock screen; the picture they took on the beach for their honeymoon. He held the phone over his heart for a minute and lied back, staring at the ceiling until sleep took him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean smiled as he sat in a folding chair on the side of a soccer field, watching a short blonde girl dribble a ball between her feet on the green grass. "She's gettin' good," he commented to himself.
"She missed tryouts this year," a familiar voice said. Dean gasped a little as he turned in his seat to look at the angel in the beige trenchcoat. "They moved back to Florida too late for her to be placed on a team."
"Cas? Are you--is this--this is a dream."
"Yes. But...my presence is not." Castiel smiled as Dean stood and wrapped him in a hug. "Jack saved me from the Cosmic Entity from the Empty. We've been improving Heaven."
Dean pulled back and sniffled as he slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Man, where have you been, then? We've missed you."
"Angels stay in Heaven now. Jack and I thought it was best to keep our interference to a minimum." Cas chuckled. "I'm not technically supposed to be here now."
Dean licked his lips. "Well, then...what's with the, uh, Freddy Krueger you're pulling?"
"Dean requested it. He knows what's been happening on Earth, that you've taken on his memories and essentially become him, and he knows that you are avoiding Cassie."
Dean scoffed and stepped back from the angel. "I'm sure he's got an opinion on all this."
"He does. He has a strong opinion on what you're doing and what you should be doing." Castiel stepped closer. "He told me to tell you to get your head out of your ass. He said that, if you have his memories, you're in love with her too and you need to go to her. He knows you couldn’t live with losing her forever...so don't lose her."
"Cas, she's better off without me."
"Is she?" the angel challenged. "Because she’s Dean Winchester’s widow. Doesn't that put a target on her back?"
Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked away. She could handle it...right? "She's got protections...and we taught her to fight. She's gonna be fine."
"Dean told me to tell you that if you don't get in his car and drive to Florida, he's going to 'rip your pansy lungs out'," Cas said, doing air quotes. Dean scoffed. "He was very adamant that you go to her."
"Fine. But it's gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt her." Dean was absolutely serious but Cas just smiled and shook his head a little. "Hey, uh, Cas? Before you go...I'm...I'm not gonna get to see you again, right? So, don't you think we should talk about-"
"I think that would be a bit redundant." Castiel’s smile brightened, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Dean and I have spoken at length about my sacrifice and the words spoken before Billie and I were taken to the Empty."
"And?"
"And Dean Winchester’s Heaven is full of people who love and cherish him...who see him for the hero he is. He never believes he's going to hurt any of them. You should learn from his example."
"DEAN! Look!" Dean looked behind him to see the girl kick the soccer ball at the goal. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.
"Great job, Youngblood!" he shouted before turning back around. The angel was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean smiled tightly at Sam as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “So, uh...I’m gonna take a few days...drive down to Florida.”
Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah...Castiel came to me in a dream last night. Said the original me is up there in Heaven and he’s very unhappy with my choice.”
“Really?” Sam was obviously amused.
“Yeah. I don’t know if it was really him or not. Maybe it was just my brain kickin’ me in the ass but...I’m gonna go get ‘em back.”
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”
“Yeah, yeah, anyway...I’ll be back in a couple days. I’ve got training on Monday so...it’ll be a short trip. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t but…” He shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I go talk to her.”
“Good luck, man.”
Dean nodded before heading to the garage. He had plenty of time to get nervous as he drove toward his in-laws’ house in North Florida. A month wasn’t too long. She’d gone longer without him in the past, but...he was alive back then. She knew he’d be back eventually.
He parked the Impala down the street. He wanted to see her before he talked to her. He needed to see how she was working through his death...if she even needed him. Dead Dean told him to go, but if she was moving on, he’d just get back in the car.
She was on the porch when he arrived, coming around the neighbor’s house to hide in the shadows around the side of her parent’s house. “It’s still hard. I don’t think it’s ever not gonna be hard. I still keep wanting to hear that damn Impala coming down the road. But even if I did hear it...I know it’d be Sam.” Dean bit his bottom lip. She was still mourning him. “I don’t know, Manda, but Erik has been a godsend.” His eyebrows went up. Who the fuck is Erik? Did she move on already? “He’s the only reason I get out of bed most mornings. He’s been helping a lot with Aria, driving her to school in the morning and making breakfast. Oh, he makes the best pancakes.” She gave a small chuckle. “Not that I need pancakes. I’ve put on, like, fifteen pounds since he died. Yeah, that is a lot. Erik doesn’t think so either...and Dean wouldn’t care...but I care”
Dean watched her shrug before shaking her head. “I don’t know. He seems nice but...my parents didn’t even know Dean and I got married, so of course Erik doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand...but he’s helping anyway.” She sighed and hummed a little into the air, staring up at the moon. “It’s still just really hard.”
Dean watched as she finished her phone call to her best friend and kept looking up into the night sky. He had to force himself to step around the side of the house and toward her. “Who’s Erik?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to ask. Green eyes behind thick, dark glasses went wide as she turned to look at him.
“Dean?” she squeaked.
“Mostly,” he whispered as she threw her phone to skim across the grass and launched herself at him. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by the feel of her warmth against him. “Come on, Crash, I taught you better than this. Where’s your silver and holy water, baby?”
“Inside,” she sobbed out into his chest. “But I know you’re you. I can feel it.”
He pressed his lips to her hair and took a step back, leaning down a bit to look directly into her eyes. “I am me, but I’m also...I’m also not. Can we...can we take a walk?”
“Of course!” she agreed, sniffling and wiping at her eyes under her glasses.
They started to walk out of the yard onto the street. “Okay, but before I get into my whole thing...who the fuck is Erik?”
“Oh, he’s a maintenance guy, works with my dad. When I moved to the Bunker, Erik rented my room.”
Dean nodded, his lips pursed. “So, he’s your parents’ tenant and you’re letting him take your daughter to school?”
“My parents trust him...I trust him.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy...and he’s a writer, too. He was shocked by the number of notebooks I have. He used to do all of his writing on his computer, but he’s started writing in notebooks since I showed him the versatility of handwriting a story. He said it was like going back to simpler times.”
“Okay. I guess...so, he’s just…”
“He’s just a guy that lives at the house.” She looked over at him as he jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, how are you back? Sam burned you. You shouldn’t be back.”
“You remember when Chuck was destroying the other universes and the other versions of me and Sam showed up? They were fleeing their world.”
“I remember. Sam wouldn’t take his hair down.”
“Right, well...um…” He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks ago, Man-bun Sam died in South America. Werewolves...and Dean couldn’t take it and he did a full wipe of his memories so that he wouldn’t have to remember and Sam went to Rowena to get her to fix it. Her version of fixing it was to give him, give me, your husband’s memories.”
“So, you’re-” She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. “You’re not my Dean?”
“Of course I am. I’ve got all of his memories. I’ve got all of his love.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Slightly different body...and a different soul. Your Dean is in Heaven. But I’m just like him. I’m exactly like him, Crash.”
She swallowed and searched his face for a few moments before she looked away. “The day we met...why was I crying?”
She was quizzing him, testing his memories, seeing how much like her husband he really was. “Mike left you,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t the first time...or the last. Rebel was about...two years old and you were tryin’ to hold yourself together. We shared some beer and talked about the monster Sam and I put down...and you gave me your number.”
“You, uh, you had a tattoo that I designed...it burned so you don’t have it now, but what-”
“I’ll get the rune again,” he interrupted. “So you can astral to me again.”
“Oh, it is you,” she whispered.
“It is me.” He wrapped her in a hug again and she grabbed at his jacket to hold him to her. “I don’t know how to go about this, though. How are we gonna explain to the kid that-”
“I-I don’t know.” She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t know if she even caught on to the fact that you were dead...all I said was ‘gone’. I just said you were gone.”
That might make it easier. “Is she back at the house?”
“No. She’s with her father. It’s just Erik and my parents at the house right now.”
“Do your parents know I died? I’m just trying to determine if we can go in or if I’m sleeping in the car tonight.” He smiled at her as she sighed and looked away.
“I told them you broke up with me.”
“So, can I come inside?”
“You’ll have to sleep on the couch...unless you wanna sleep on the floor in Aria’s room. I’ve been sleeping with her on her loft bed since Erik has my old room and bed and all that.”
He smiled and headed toward the house, her hand in his. “She still have that big pile of stuffed animals under the loft?” She nodded and he smirked. “Then I’ll sleep in her zoo.”
She led him into the house and started up the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs when the door to the room that used to be hers opened. “Cass?” a voice asked. Dean stopped in his tracks.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, Erik.”
“It’s okay. I was just worried when you didn’t come back in. Are you-” Shadows fell over Dean and Crash as a figure stepped to the top of the stairs. “Oh, shit.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stepped around his wife and up a few stairs. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded.
“You’re dead,” the blue-eyed man squeaked.
“About as dead as you’re about to be, Chuck.”
~~~~
The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library
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lunartearrose · 3 years
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Here is that skullvin piece i did to rid myself of some art block! I used that nice ingame screenshot i got too. Below in a readmore i have a nice little blurb of au angst(?) i thought up!
Oh, he was going to kill that nerd when he woke up. 
How could someone who claimed he wants order think this was okay to do to someone? How would forcing him to sleep with his stupid radio waves win a battle at all? Fighting his tiredness full-heartedly, Vintage tried his hardest to find a way to wake up. Nothing was working.
On his last resort, Vintage pinches his cheek as hard as he possibly can. He felt like he was getting somewhere for a moment, that maybe he'd be up enough to punch those stupid silver shades off the jerk's face…
But then, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and all at once the rage he built up was swallowed in the fog of this dream. An old friend was staring him in the face - confused as ever, and concerned like he used to be. 
"Don't worry about practice today." His friend said, "the others are sick anyways. Wanna hit the convenience store with me…?" 
It really did feel like reaching a beloved memory he wanted desperately to relive - the kind where he didn't have to worry about keeping up the name of X, when he could have  precious moments with someone… he really missed. 
That dream was much longer than his true reality, that much he knew. What felt like hours browsing for cheap sweets and spices, talking along the way, looking for ways to sneak food out for free - it was only a few minutes in reality. 
He tried continually to remind himself that - this wasn't real, this skull wearing his current gear and treating him so well, it simply didn't exist. But despite what he knew, he found himself hating the idea of abandoning this moment, or telling this skull he wasn't real. Just for a small moment, he wanted to believe what could've been, had they not become obsessed with an idea of power.
On their way out the store, they chatted happily as they walked slowly on the road back home. Skull carried many more bags, proud to show off his physical strength. Vintage smiled, almost genuinely…
And at that moment, his will had started to return, with memories of the present situation. He had a feeling he'd be waking up from this dream soon. 
So vintage moved closer to this mirage of skull. He wrapped his arms around him, and squeezed tightly. It took that skull a moment to register this, just like the real one would, before he hugged back, wordlessly confused. He felt warm, and all too real. 
"I really do wish it was different sometimes…" vintage admits, unusually finding it hard to talk right. "I miss this so much." 
The dream that was skull hummed softly. "You don't have to miss me. We see each other all the time." 
That much was true. They used to walk together all the time… and now, after everything, they still see each other. But they never talk. 
So, vintage simply nodded. "We'll talk again… right?" 
And he feels the skull nod in turn. "Of course." 
Vintage could hear a voice calling. No, several - they were frantic, trying to get him to wake. He gives that skull one last squeeze-
And awakens to a harsh reality. He was on the floor, double-egg supporting his upper half while omega made him drink another sip of water. Even red seemed freaked out by his state. He felt a dampness by his eyes...
As memory of who gave him such a cruel dream resurfaces, vintage is overtaken by a sickly sort of rage.
"Where is that bastard…?" Vintage asks them.
"He took you off his team, like, three matches ago! The guy's an insane jerk, making you go through like 20 matches back to back, and he kept tryin to use you against us when we tried to beat him up!" Red exclaims.
"He's fighting more team chaos now, with a separate team. Goggles,prince, skull, and bobble. They're doing their thing… as you'd expect." Omega explains. 
"Sounds like he's about to get a loss, then." Vintage says as he attempts to stand, "Let's catch the end. Then i can beat that nerd to hell and back." 
But as vintage stood, he suddenly felt a horrible soreness as his legs buckled underneath him. Luckily, eggshades and red were fast enough to catch him. 
"Woah! No more fights for you, i guess!" Red says. 
"I'll keep an eye out for him for ya. For now, i don't think it's good for you to stand…" eggshades says. 
Vintage huffed angrily. "I want to watch the fight at least…"
Omega nods. "I figured as much. I'll grab you a chair. Guys, could you help him move?" 
"Yes ma'am!" His two teammates reply half-sarcastically, and each take part in supporting vintage enough to let him at least feel like he was standing, maybe.
"...Thanks." vintage says, then adds a bit softly, "and... thanks for sticking by me while i was out, too." 
On either side of him, his friends smile.
"Oh? Was that a thank you?" Red says, eagerness clear in her voice.
"How could we not? You're our leader." Eggshades says, sounding like his confidence got boosted a bit more.
"...And as our leader, you're a friend, too." Omega tells him as she returned with a nice little folding chair.
Despite everything, their words brought a small smile to his face. The past was nice to think of, and yes, maybe he could patch things up, but the support he had now definitely has a place in his heart.
"Thanks… now let's watch that nerd get his ass beat."
(... here's the screenshot too btw ^^)
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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years
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could you write a soulmate au drabble with agent whiskey or din? thank you <3
🌙 i made the reader female i hope that's alright 🥺 but i really enjoyed this idea :)) also this is a genuinely interesting idea to me that I'd love to expand on if y'all are ever interested on a full one shot or something ❤️
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[16:10] "You really ain't gonna make this easy, are you, sweetheart?"
"You're gonna have to try a little harder, cowboy!" You shout back to the man currently shooting at you, clutching the arm one of his bullets managed to graze.
“Just give up, darling!” Agent Whiskey tries again to coax you out of your hiding spot and into his arms.
You don’t answer, instead running out of your hiding spot and hoping that he’s turned away from you. He’s not.
The moment his eyes catch your form running from one cover to another, Whiskey reaches for his lasso, remembering to keep in on the non-lethal setting, per his boss’ order to bring you in alive.
The rope catches your ankle, throwing you off your feet and into the snow covered grow. You immediately try to stand again, which makes Whiskey give out a frustrated groan before he sends you hurling towards a nearby tree, knocking you out instantly. He feels a strange, harsh tug at his heart as he watches your limp body hit the ground.
"I'm sorry, sugar, I know that's gotta hurt." Jack throws you over his shoulder more gently than he usually does to enemies. He can't find a reason for it though.
You wake up what you assume is a few hours later, aching all over and groaning at the excessive amount of lights in your face.
You attempt to move your arms, only to find that they're tied to the chair you're sitting on.
You assume you're about to be interrogated, but the room you sit in would make you think otherwise in a different context.
The room is completely white, all the walls and the ceiling, even the floor. A large reflective window stares back at you. Or at least you think it's a window, could just be a big mirror. There's also a table with a chair in front of you and maybe if you try to knock it over you could-
The door opens and in steps the man who had chased you. You can see it even without turning your head, not wanting to show him how lost you are. But you do feel the need to scoff, purely due to the situation, and not due to something in you, as your heart feels weirdly tight in the man's presence.
He walks slowly towards the vacant chair in front of you, boots clicking against what you assume is something like concrete. You keep your head lowered as he sits, legs spread while he has an arm on top of the chair, clearly meaning to establish some sort of superiority, but you won't have it. This is what you excel at.
The agent looks you over for a moment before taking off his hat and placing it on the table behind himself, exposing his curly brown hair that looks way too soft and his eyes bore into you with such intensity despite they're apparent softness-
"Are you comfortable?"
The question throws you off completely. What the hell?
You glare at the man after getting over your initial shock, figuring out that he's serious.
"Can I get you any--"
"Can you just get to the point?"
Whiskey blinks at your bluntness for a moment, before shaking his head. He looks back at you, meeting the fire in your eyes with the curiosity of his. Your fire wavers at the dept before you.
"Just tryin' to be polite, darling. I'm a gentleman, you see." The way he nods his head as he speaks let's you know he would've been tipping his hat in that moment if he hadn't taken it off.
"A gentleman, huh?" Your voice drips with mischievous intent at first, then with poison as you grow bitter while your back and head keep pounding as a reminder of how you got your ass handed to you. "Not very gentlemanly to hit a woman, is it?"
The unnamed agent leans back, seemingly to get away from the hostility you exude.
"I really am sorry, sugar. I do feel bad for it." Why though?
"But how about we start this again?" He offers amicably before you can comment on the absurdity of an agent being regretful of hitting their target. Woman or otherwise.
"You can call me Agent Whiskey. What can I call you, sweetheart?"
"Cola." The man is once again surprised, but also interested, by your answer. But he nods.
"Alright, Cola, who do you work for?" Jack doesn't expect a straight answer, it just doesn't happen. But you seem determined to surprise him.
"A woman named Poppy. That's all I know, it's all I've been told." You have to admit, that expression does look good on him. The wide eyes, raised brows, slightly parted lips.
"How is that all you know?" Jack swallows thickly as you adjust your position, leg brushing his and lighting a fire beneath his skin that he'd felt before when carrying you back to headquarters. Are you just always hot or-
That question answers itself, he thinks.
"Listen here, Agent," Your voice is silky smooth as you lower your volume, hoping to appear mellow and helpless. You know his type of guy and how they work. You also decide to pointedly ignore the stutter of your heart and the sudden heat on your cheeks at his close proximity when he moves, as expected, closer. "I don't work as one of her goons, or something. I'm a mercenary and I work for myself. So, yeah, that's all I know about my employer."
Regret settled on the pit of your stomach at your own callous tone. What are all these emotions, that feel yours but also distant, disconnected.
"Can you let me go now? I have work to do."
Agent Whiskey leans back once more, crossing his arms and sighing. This was much easier than he had pictured, given how hard you fought back when he attempted to capture you.
But he still needs to get some more answers out of you.
"Let's make a deal, shall we?"
"And why would I do that?" You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation.
"You wanna get out of here, right sugar?" He offers, lip curling just slightly into what looks like a cocky smile to you. Your blood still sings at the sight of it. "Plus, we can trade secrets."
Your brows furrow. What secrets could he possibly have that would interest you? Perhaps something negative about Poppy to try and get you to change sides.
"If it's about Poppy, save your breath. Whatever it is, I already know."
"Not quite." Jack comments, southern drawl dripping like honey before he moves his chair closer. You get distracted by his sweet voice before the scrapping of the metal chair breaks you out of your haze and you lean back and away from him. He seems apprehensive because of this, lowering the hand that had reached out to you.
"You ever wonder about that little symbol on your arm?"
You look down at the limb he points at, your upper arm, wrapped in a bandage which is stained red. "You mean the one you shot?"
"I already told you I'm-"
"Doesn't change shit. What are you implying?"
"It's unfinished, isn't it?"
"Why do you say that? Could just be a choice I made." You instantly turn defensive at what you interpret as a know-it-all tone. How can he be so sure he knows literally anything about you?
The irony of the fact that you feel as if you know everything about him, despite truthfully knowing nothing at all, isn't lost on you.
Jack begins shedding his dark blue suit jacket, placing it on the table behind him. He then starts rolling up his sleeve on the same arm as the one of yours he shot. You would've blushed if you weren't so interested in what he has to say.
A dark symbol is revealed on his tan skin, just as seemingly incomplete as yours. The ink shifts slightly, like moving mist, as the agent shuffles closer.
It looks almost like a still wet, watercolor painting. And you know that, on your arm, there's an identical symbol.
But you still motion for Whiskey to at least untie your one arm. He unties both, upon seeing that you had no intention of hitting him, at the moment. Your legs are still tied but that's not what you want to focus on.
You look at the dark ink on your arm, just below the bandage. It's bigger, larger than it's ever been before. And it matches his.
You slowly raise your arm, watching as he does the same. As you do, the symbols complete themselves just as slowly.
Until your palms meet his warm and rough ones and you're sure the images look whole now, but all you can look to is his deep brown eyes.
You feel the pull from before, tugging at your heartstrings and burning up your blood like dynamite, slowly waiting to explode in an outburst of affection you wish to avoid.
Slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, Jack intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing in reassurance.
Poppy will be left waiting for your return for a long while.
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