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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Falling Angels: chapter two

A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!

Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol

Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.

Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader

My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it.

I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.”

“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line.

My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--”

“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.”

I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?”

“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.”

Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.”

“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.”

He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.”

“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”

I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.”

“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.”

I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.”

“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.”

“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.”

He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.”

“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision.

No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.

“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark.

“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness.

We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic.

This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?”

“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”

Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together.

He hesitates, “My ghost will.”

The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.”

Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.”

I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.”

The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him.

I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me.

“Are you ignoring me?”

Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.”

“I--”

“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”

I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”

He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything.

“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.”

Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this?

“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.”

Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?”

“To get through the Fold.”

Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.”

He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.”

I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.”

I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.”

Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it.

“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.”

There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.”

I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.”

He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.”

The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.”

I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.”

My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes.

I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy.

“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.”

“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.”

“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--”

“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.”

Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--”

“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.”

Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?”

For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.”

“Or original.”

Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.”

I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.”

She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.”

I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it.

“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.”

“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.”

Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.

Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.”

“What?”

She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.”

What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?”

“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”

“No, I won’t leave y--”

Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.”

My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.”

She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”

My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.”

“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.”

Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.”

“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.”

No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow.

Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

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Batsis HC Compilation

1. Being the Artist/ Sensitive Also Kinda Scary Wayne Daughter HC (lol):

Warnings: Depression and anxiety mentions

· You were the first biological child of Bruce Wayne

· Well as far as you knew lol

· You were younger than Jason, but a few months older than Tim

· I suspect that if you were in the family business as long as Dick or so you’d have some issues

· Those would include but not be limited to depression and possible anxiety

· There would be happy days but it would still go downhill after a few days

· On the days where it was worst, everyone would pile in for family movie night

· Secretive person and would probably be quite and sarcastic

· Since you were living at the manor your entire life, you would’ve lived to see Jason’s death and it really hurt

· If you were a musician, I suspect that Alfred or Bruce would have walked in on you at the piano or something playing a terribly sad song about it or just emotions and they’d cry

· Something like the song “Beautiful Scar” by Alicia Moffet (sad one btw like omg)

· If you were a writer or an artist, just pieces describing everything symbolically

· Going back to the musician, there is a music room in the manor in my mind so I suspect that there are times where Bruce or one of your older brothers will carry you into your bedroom if they find you asleep

· You find it hard being a Wayne and all seeing as it’s like everyone around you is fake

· That led you to hanging alone a lot which concerned Bruce

· “Y/N, why don’t you go to the party you were invited to? It’s a beautiful day for one.” He said one day finding you reading in your bedroom.

You looked at him solemnly, “All my friends are fake and want me for money and clout.” “I don’t try to go out with them much if I don’t have to.” *Que protective batdad*

· The library is your home as well as the gardens

· Now public and patrol is a whole new story

· Riddler is your favorite villain because he starts good conversations

· Sometimes the villains have in fact questioned your health to your older brothers

· Riddler: So, does it concern you that Y/S/H/N seems to openly hate life or is it just me?

Nightwing: We all hate life, she just does a little bit more

Riddler: ...okkayyyyyyy

· You sometimes make very violent threats on patrol which lead to some interesting conversations in the vans back to jail

· The paps are literally scared of you

· You have given the famous Wayne glare but on level 1000, billions of times

· Very sarcastic answers to some questions

· When people on the internet come for anyone you love you shut them down asap

_______________________________________________________________________

2. Being the Business Woman

· You showed interest in the business for a while but never really total want to take over WE

· No, you wanted to leave that for Tim

· The boy deserved it anyways

· Instead you started taking extra courses in business and such in middle school and worked your way up

· While you didn’t like galas, you did try and make connections

· You went to either an Ivy Leauge or Oxford or something

· Then Wharton

· After that you were on your way

· If you already had a business it was booming but now it’s “extra booming”? idk but you get the idea

· HuGE

· Bruce was very proud and made that clear in interviews

· Your company works closely with WE

· Asking B for advice

· Paparazzi doubling down on coverage for you since now you’re bigger than ever

· Hosting you own galas

· You either have a big house and rooms for everyone or a penthouse with the same situation

_______________________________________________________________________

3. Being Bruce’s Favorite

· You have the best relationship with Bruce out of everyone

· He takes you out on father/ daughter lunch or dinner dates which is pretty fun

· He would never openly admit that you’re his favorite

· Taught you to drive

· If you ever need advice you go straight to him

· Best birthdays ever

· You go and visit him at WE and he lets you hang in the office

· There’s a secret fridge stocked with snacks

· Dad/ daughter patrol

· Read you stories as a child

· Legit might still if you ask

· You sit in his office to do homework

· Has come home to you spinning in his office chair

· Shopping sprees

· Interviews

· Very protective on patrol when it comes down to being in a ton of danger

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4. Being the Metahuman

· I’m thinking that you would have gotten your powers from a mission gone wrong

· It was probably involving magic or something and you were seriously injured

· I think that it would be fitting to be able to control darkness and things like shadows

· Everyone was freaked out including you

· You begged not to be sent away knowing what he thought of metas

· He promised that he wouldn’t and just had someone over that would help you

· Lots of tests at first and you kinda just lived in the Batcave for some time just incase

· After that you changed your costume a bit to fit to the power theme

· The villains were straight confused

· “Bats what happened to your kid? Why is she scarier now?” ...”it’s complicated”

· You know how in Young Justice, Robin had that creepy laugh?

· It was like that now but then shadows came out of the wall

· Everyone is pretty sure you made a few street criminals and Black Mask’s goon pee their pants

· Best Halloween fun on patrol now

· You scared Joker once

· The powers do sometimes take a darker turn and you had to learn to control that since it did come from a maliciously used magic

· “I can smell the fear off of you, clown.” You smiled and walked around him, shadows in the room, darkening your presence. “Uhhh Batsy, I don’t like this one anymore.”

· Hanging out with more Metas

· You and Duke are like best friends

· Gotta figure it out with someone am I right?

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5. Being the Author

· Your father does have presence everywhere, but you don’t like to think that that is the reason for your success

· I could imagine you being a true crime or just mystery writer

· Maybe even fantasy/fiction

· Jason helps you write them if you ever get stuck

· All of them go to your book signings and sometimes it’s embarrassing but also funny

· You love that they support you

· Care packages from Alfred when you’re on book tours

· There are typically also some more things tucked inside from everyone

· Staying up with Timbers

· Your room is probably really aesthetic just sayin

· Gardens and library is the beesstttttt

· Sometimes for books, you take your time on patrol and as a superhero even if you still do it as inspiration

· Everyone is like HoW Do ThEY COmE uP WiTh ThIS

· Hehe

· If you’re moved out I can imagine you have a really cool apartment or house

· Cozy and open

· *aesthetic*

· One time, Damian did a book cover for you and so since he actually wouldn’t let you pay him, you took him on tour with you

· You helped him make that his side hustle lol

· Alfred has all of your books in the library

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay so I could NOT sleep last night and was up till 6 doing this, I don’t mind adding onto it and I’ll totally take requests for this. I do hope that you guys liked this.

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bagadew · 3 years

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The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 1)

Last Time: With a little help from Susato, the lady in pink, we discovered that Miss Brett poisoned Dr Wilson with Curare, a fast acting poison that’s only effective when introduced into the blood stream. In a last ditch attempt to avoid justice, Miss Brett destroyed the evidence right in front of the court, but fortunately my man Hosonaga was on hand with new evidence he’d taken from the crime scene, meaning that all we had to do was catch the thief of a rare golden coin, and tie Miss Brett up with her own words! At last I (Ryunosuke) was acquitted!

...only to find out in the lobby that Miss Brett has managed to privilege her way out of any consequences and was gone like smoke in the wind. (Also Kazuma used his sword in a way I found very hot, and I think I’ve accidentally doomed him to death or moral corruption.)

I’m 90% sure The Speckled Band is a Sherlock Holmes case, and I’m 49% sure it’s one of the ones I’ve read. I’m guessing this is where we’ll meet The Great Himbo Detective Herlock Sholmes then!

Well I guess that answers that then.

(And yes, I have read this one)

HERLOCK!

And he’s voiced by Professor Layton maybe???

Ooh, this seems like a Study in Scarlet, are we doing a Study in Scarlet guys?

Herlock has a magic gun!?!

Also I’m not digging this Japanese scripture and talk of it being penned by ‘the victim himself’. Kazuma what did I tell you about leaving my sight?

Wait... I could have sworn I just saw Hosonaga dressed as a sailor...

Oh balls, am I about to be accused of murder again?

Honestly I can’t take you anywhere Ryunosuke

Well Ryunosuke, you remember how you went to a lovely restaurant and got arrested for a murder you didn’t commit?

Well, it’s just like that but substitute restaurant for ship.

Also I’m not liking how little I’ve seen of Kazuma...

Ryunosuke we really need to have a talk about you just saying what people want to hear.

ITS FUCKING KAZUMA ISN’T IT?!

Nononononononono

I knew this was coming, you knew this was coming, Ace Attorney law dictated it was coming as soon as it set Kazuma up as both my mentor and best friend.

But even so, I thought they were just empty threats! I didn’t think they’d actually follow through! Or that we might at least enjoy Herlock Sholmes ad his magic gun together first.

I realise I’m stalling here, but maybe if I just don’t click I’ll not have to see his body.

Sailor Man, I understand that you’re very upset, we all are, but I need you to understand that I’m grieving here.

The man I love took one look at the morally compromised shits I’m normally into and decided he’d rather die than join them! And yes I know I’m still stalling and not taking this as seriously as I should because I still don’t believe it!

See, me and Ryunosuke are on the same page!

I didn’t Susato, but the problem is that you and I have only just met and I’m not very convincing!

Kazuma you legend! I refuse to believe you are dead until I see your corpse.

Now Ryunosuke’s all: I can’t believe they tossed your case around that much. I thought I was going to die.

And Kazuma’s telling me he’s just amazed I fitted inside his trunk in the first place.

Kazuma you can’t be gone! Who else will condescendingly tell me to go to France and ask rather than translate a French label for me?

Now Kazuma’s telling me (Ryunosuke) that I’m going to have to live in his cabin for the next 50 days.

Also we’ve got to keep this from Susato because we’re breaking the law and Kazuma doesn’t want us to take her down with us.

Lol, every day I get shoved into the wardrobe by an uncaring Kazuma!

Oh, that’s what the message said!

God knows what the steward thought Kazuma was keeping in his wardrobe though

See Ryunosuke, this is why we think before we speak.

I don’t envy the real killer when Susato gets hold of them.

From what I can find out it’s a locked room mystery, and the cause of death is still undetermined, so I’m guessing something like poison then rather than an obvious thing, like being stabbed with his big sword.

On one hand, I really hope it wasn’t something like Curare, because I don’t want Kazuma to have gone out like that, but on the other hand poison would explain why the killer didn’t need to be in the room when he died and why Kazuma didn’t strike them down with said big sword.

Ok, so Kazuma, legend that he was, got up every day at the crack of dawn to do sword training. And Susato, who I’m begging to suspect is incredibly hardcore, go up before him so she could go and wait for him outside.

Now that’s interesting.

The two of them seem like they were pretty close, so there’s a good chance it’s just that she’s so familiar with Kazuma’s habits that she can tell the second something’s off, or it could be that there’s some other reason we need to work out.

If that’s correct that means Kazuma was killed in the small hours of the morning.

You know up ‘til now I’ve been assuming Ryunosuke was knocked out or something, and that’s why he was unconscious in the wardrobe, but now I’m starting to think he might have just been sleeping in there.

:((

Wait why’d Kazuma write in Russian?

Like I’d buy that he might know it, but I don’t buy that’s it’s what he’d write in in his finger moments.

Well that proves my innocence then, all we need to do is get some witnesses to verify the ‘go to France and ask’ moment from the last case

Oh ok, I didn’t manage to screenshot it, but it seems that I (Ryunosuke) didn’t put myself in the wardrobe. That’s very odd.

I can see a vent up there, so maybe someone gassed us and then got in while we were asleep and set up the crime scene.

Kazuma said I should come, next question

Ryunosuke, with some of the words that come out of your mouth I don’t think you should be throwing stones.

Love?

Apparently not.

This is going to be something ominous isn’t it...

I’m starting to feel like Kazuma knew he’d never see England.

Kazuma how many toes did you tread on?

Oh fucking hell!

You can’t die and be heading down a dark moral path, that’s not fair!

Yeah, I want to know that too.

So my poison/drugging theory seems to be holding up. Apparently Kazuma bought me something to eat, I climbed into the hiding wardrobe, and then it’s lights out from there.

Given that I didn’t wake up when Kazuma was killed I’m going to say that also back that theory up. Even if it was silent I feel like Ryunosuke would have woken up if someone was going round the cabin knocking ink bottles over and killing Kazuma.

No, don’t blame yourself Ryunosuke!

It’s my fault really, if I was going to find Kazuma hot I should have made sure I could manifest inside my switch and protect him!

Ah, of course! Isn’t her dad a professor of pathology? And she seems like the sort of person who picks things up pretty quickly!

In other words, if this is a poisoning, she could be the perfect person to be partnered up with.

:(((

Susato is fully prepared to kick our ass if we try and leave, and as the woman who got up before Kazuma, I think we should listen to her.

:(((((

I say we team up as an investigative duo and catch this bastard!

Yeah!

SHE FUCKED US UP!!!

Susato didn’t come here to play! Especially when we might have killed Kazuma!

(Editors note: this isn’t a bad screenshot, Susato genuinely made Ryunosuke’s vision go blurry)

I know we need to investigate, but my god this woman’s got a fist to match her convictions.

You know when I first met Susato I was a bit afraid she was going to be the inverse of Maya to the point of being meek and shy.

Now I see what a fool I was.

Susato might be prepared to politely follow the rules, but woe betide you if you break them.

She’s even named it!

Again I know this is bad for us but GO SUSATO!

(God damn it you can’t all be my favourite characters)

Her own special martial arts form Ryunosuke!

And just like that she regathers her composure and carries on as if nothing had happened!

I like how she’s still just standing over me.

Ok Ryunosuke let’s go!

(Seriously though we don’t want her as an enemy)

Ah of course, Kazuma stuck the seal on the wardrobe, and the fact Herlock Sholmes (the himbo detective) had to pull it off means I didn’t leave!

No one respects poor Ryunosuke...

So it seems that Susato doesn’t believe we’re innocent just yet, but as we’ve presented the possibility of doubt before her she will let us investigate this room.

Given the buck wild nature of the last trial she was involved in, I honestly can’t blame her for not ruling this possibility out. After all if this was something a witness in a trial had said I’d be thinking the same thing.

Susato’s going to be watching us to make sure we don’t disturb the crime scene, which again is fair.

I’ve got to say, I’m really digging Susato’s cautiously suspicious and sensible nature. It feels like a good counterbalance to Ryunosuke’s beautiful but naïve outlook on life.

I bet if Susato had stowed away onboard a ship you wouldn’t catch her immediately confessing as soon as a sailor started to press her.

Who am I kidding, Susato would never have got into this situation in the first place.

*sob*

Ok so far we’ve got:

A) Half a pink kimono fastener on the floor next to a brick red mark

B) One disturbed table, with the remains of our roast chicken dinner on the floor

C) The terrible knowledge that Kazuma spent his last night on earth hungry because he didn’t like chicken

D) Kazuma’s precious katana, that he loved dearly and that he’d apparently managed to persuade the government to let him bring to the UK.

Oh yeah, drive the knife in why don’t you game!

Why do I feel like Ryunosuke’s about to get roasted?

There we go.

(It’s what Kazuma would have wanted)

DON’T JUST GO WITH IT RYUNOSUKE!

Back to investigating, we’ve got a ransacked shelf, and Kazuma’s London diary.

Just, you know, to rip my heart out...

It looks like the final entry’s incomplete, which means Kazuma was probably writing it when the incident happened. Unfortunately Susato is violently insistent that we respect the Kazuma’s private thoughts after his death, so we can’t read it.

We’ve got the inky Russian(?) on the floor which none of us can either recognize, nor read (including me)

(Sorry to any Russians reading this by the way, I can only assume you’re screaming that this isn’t Russian, but I’m just going by what the Great Himbo Detective said in the cut scene.)

Ok, so the sailor who’s been guarding us got very flustered when we asked if everything was normal last night, meaning that either he’s been skiving off, or everything was in fact not normal last night.

Oh sweet, it seems that Ryunosuke and Susato both read detective novels, and while we’ve shot down the possibility of using the needle and thread trick to unbolt the door from the outside (side note: I must remember to try that later), I feel like both they, and the player who immediately started trying to rattle off facts about Curare, have had a bonding moment.

Ok, I think that’s this half of the room done, let’s go and check out that vent I saw earlier.

So the vent connects to the room next door. That means if the grate could be moved we have a way in and out of our crime scene!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

I mean, he’s quite hard to miss Ryunosuke

(I think Ryunosuke might have an Apollo complex short)

Understatement of the century

Her and me both Ryunosuke, it’s The Great Himbo Detective!!!

WE’RE TALKING TO HIM!

AND HE’S BLANKING US!!!

Herlock Sholmes I understand that you’re in a critical point of your investigation, but you need to understand that Ryunosuke, Susato and I are sad and need to see your magic gun.

YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSS!!!

IT’S LIKE HE HEARD ME!!!

OH GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE CHEER ME WITH YOUR WITH YOUR ECCENTRIC ACTS THAT ARE RELATABLE TO MY AUTISTIC ASS!!!

OMFG HE’S SO INCREDIBLY WRONG!!!

I hope this is the way all of his deductions go from now on.

Also I’m sorry Russia and the Russian language, I should not have believed what the man, who on reflection was sold to me as the great himbo detective, said.

Susato’s buying it!

Susato look into my eyes and tell me Ryunosuke could ever make it as a soldier.

No, please do!

And the bullet flies a mile wide!

I’m still upset about Kazuma, but I’m somehow also having the time of my life

SUSATO YOU KNOW I’M FROM JAPAN!!!

SHE TOOK ME OUT!!!

AND MY GOD AM I HERE FOR IT!!!

Ryunosuke’s finally snapped!

What I find amazing is that the Sherlock Holmes Herlock Sholmes stories clearly exist, basically unchanged in this world. So either Dr Watson Wilson was either lying through his teeth to spare his friend’s feelings, or he is the stopped clock is right twice a day person who Herlock actually hit the nail on the head for, and therefore he believed everything that was said.

‘On rout to foreign climates’ that’s how ships work Herlock!

Exactly!

I’ll say one thing for Herlock though, you can’t beat him down!

How am I both Ryunosuke and Susato in this scene?

Yeah Naruhodo-san! I thought you read detective stories!

Quick Susato! Get him to sign a copy!

Um... has no one told him yet...

I’m also curious about the fact that he still believes Dr Wilson’s in London. Either there are two Dr Wilson’s, or something weird is going on here.

Look at his hat Ryunosuke, it contains all the information you need

He got his own name wrong!

Hosonaga, I don’t know if you can hear from wherever you are on this ship dressed as a sailor, but there is a fight and you are rapidly losing!

(Also to be fair to Herlock, as someone who’s been playing a lot of Hitman recently, looking inside the wardrobe already means he’s doing a lot better than literally every character in that game.)

Ok so it was Russian then and I no longer have to apologies!

Do you think Herlock has ever been to Russia?

Ok Mr ‘is this cow a cat?’

:(((((((

HERLOCK THAT LOOKS NOTHING LIKE ME!!!

Ok everyone, we’re also on the lookout for a missing Russian Ballerina along with Kazuma’s killer. I don’t know how, but I wouldn’t have been told about her if she wasn’t relevant

I can’t believe we’ve finally found the vindictive part of Ryunosuke’s beautiful personality!

We’re finally reading Kazuma’s diary!

Oh fuck, Kazuma was bitten by an adder

Wait, if that was the case why didn’t he dispatch it with his big sword? We’ve seen him do precision work before, so that can’t be it.

Either way, I think we really need to talk to the person in the room next to mine.

Also: Herlock Sholmes gets seasick!

Did she just break my cuffs?

My mistake she’s just showing some tough love to get me to buck up!

Let’s go team!

HOSONAGA!!!

“What are you doing here?” “I think that should be my line” This feels like that meme of the two Spidermen pointing at each other

I wouldn’t be so sure Susato. Hosonaga seems a lot like me, a bunch of disabilities held together by sheer force of will.

He still has a job!

(Or his superiors are just trying to send him as far away from Japan as they can)

HELL YEAH HOSONAGA, LETS PUNCH THE RULES UNTIL THEY SQUEAK!

(Also your superiors are definitely trying to ship you out)

Oh...

That would explain Kazuma’s whole vibe.

Although something about this feels wrong. No disrespect to Hosonaga, but as determined as he is he doesn’t exactly have the physical prowess you’d associate with stopping an assassination. I know I haven’t exactly seen him at work yet, but something about this feels like he was set up to fail.

Now the thing is, that while he can cut it as a waiter, Hosonaga isn’t exactly built to fit in among sailors. It’s not going to take a genius therefore, to work out who Kazuma’s guard is, especially if he’s been around Kazuma from dawn till dusk. That’s probably why his killer had to kill him in his cabin, and it’s also why they probably drugged his food (which means they didn’t know him enough to know he didn’t like chicken)

:(((((((((((((

On the plus side though, it looks as though Hosonaga believes in my innocence.

Come on Hosonaga, remember when you bought Miss Brett to us!

Hell yeah Hosonaga!

Hosonaga heard my call! He heard that he was losing his place as my second favourite character and came back swinging!!!

Determination Ryunosuke!

Also probably hacking up a lot of blood, that does wonders to unnerve people in my experience

Now, I should present Kazuma’s diary here... but...

Yes, everything is as it should be...

He’s digging it!

Oh no he took it as an insult!

Sorry Ryunosuke, that’s the crime scene thief’s now

Ok let’s do this properly then

Yeah boy!

LETS DO THIS TEAM!!!

Ryunosuke, do you remember nothing about this man?

Hosonaga didn’t come here to play!

Ok, we’re moving on out (except not right now because I’ve still got a couple of things to look at before we go)

I think Ryunosuke might be a bad influence on Susato...

Also I feel like I’ve pegged Susato wrong regarding the rules. Susato’s just very good at keeping up the appearance of following them.

Come to think of it, the fact she’s a judicial assistant, despite women apparently not being allowed in the Japanese court other than to testify should have clued me in.

Susato Mikotoba: Breaking the rules in front of you, but in a way you don’t notice

(Also the bell pull’s not working, but I think we all expected that)

Susato I’ve been living in a cupboard!

Don’t pity me!

Ok, so I’m not quite sure when Ryunosuke and I started thinking as one, but we’ve all agreed it’s happening now

Ryunosuke do not get caught in the mousetrap!

Susato can see right through me (Ryunosuke)

Umm...

This is the Phoenix Maya dynamic inverted, and I am living for it.

Susato: Now this is an emergency button, it’s very important you do NOT press it!

Ryunosuke: *lunges for the trigger*

It feels amazing being the wayward partner!

Our rout into cabin 2’s blocked by approximately 1 ton of sailor, so for now Susato and I will have to dick around avenge Kazuma out here in the corridor.

It seems that last night’s log is mostly blank, so I’m guessing I was right about the sailor on duty skiving off.

Hmm, so the person in the next cabin’s probably quite important then. Given what just happened with Miss Brett that’s not a good sign.

And it seems like I’m not allowed to visit whoever it is without an invitation... which might prove tricky given as how there in there and I’m out here

Ah good, a Western Gentleman, that’s just what we need!

Hmmmmm

These guys left their post for a while didn’t they?

Either that or there’s something (or someone) they’re keeping off the records.

This might be a bit of a wide shot, but that mousetrap makes me wonder if the crew has some sort of secret pet squirrelled away somewhere. It doesn’t entirely add up what with them putting traps down, but with everyone in Ace Attorney having something to hide it’s all I can think of now.

Bif Strogenov’s left to report to the captain, nows our window to violate some privacy!

HERLOCK SHOLMES!!!

Shot down!

Herlock that thing’s tiny, I don’t think anyone’s in there!

It moved!

Guess I’m eating my words!

Herlock???

Ok, we’re not allowed to look inside the case, or indeed anything, but fortunately we have HERLOCK SHOLMES THE GREAT HIMBO DETECTIVE!!!

Deduce away Herlock!

Herlock... are you about to tell this man that he’s also the Russian Assasin? Are you going to do this round the whole ship until you get it right?

Wait this is working!?!

Herlock Sholmes is Susato’s one blind spot and Ryunosuke’s one point of clarity

CHOOCHOO!!!

THIS IS AMAZING!

He’s not entirely right though...

(Editors note: I completely managed to miss capturing 90% of the ? icons)

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!

HERLOCK LOOK AT THIS MAN’S NOSE, LOOK AT MY FACE! NOW LOOK AT THE MAN IN THE PORTRAIT!

However, the newspaper in his pocket and the little ! icon seems to suggest there’s some connection there.

(Editors note: I also managed to miss every ! icon)

And there is a crime being committed, but it’s not to do with the case.

Yeah, it probably just contains one of those pets we’re not supposed to have.

So... a baby?

So do a lot of people Susato

Ok, so The Great Himbo Detective is actually really good at making observations, it’s just how he applies them that’s shit.

I wonder if this is what Dr Wilson did for their partnership, but he just cut out the bits where he said things like: Herlock these people have completely different faces, maybe there’s a different reason they’ve got the paper?

Ryunosuke normally: The fact Hosonaga’s working in this restaurant clearly means he’s struggling financially!

Ryunosuke around Herlock: You can’t just say the first guess that pops into your head!

HERLOCK BUSTED US OUT!!!

(Ok he’s also the reason we were in handcuffs, but still)

Olay!

What! Noooooo!

‘Course Correction: Hold it Mr Sholmes!’ What a title!

Important news just in: Ryunosuke can’t grow a beard

A part of me says that he was about to use the sheers to cut up that paper, but there are obviously other copies around the ship, so unless he’s planning a sheers rampage that can’t be right.

Hello!

Wait a second... with that reaction to the paper... is there a Russian Ballerina in there?

WE DID THE HERLOCK SHOLMES COOL SPIN AND CLICK!!!

Also look at Ryunosuke’s little cocky smirk!

He’s really getting into this!

And I couldn’t be more proud!

We’re tag teaming it!

Herlock I swear to god if you tell me she’s that assassin

WHAT DID I JUST SAY!

(Editors note: Got that one!)

I sure am Susato!

Keep telling yourself that Ryunosuke, we can all see the truth

Ah, so the nose was fake too

That makes a lot more sense now!

Well she did disappear with a priceless tiara

He said, rubbing his hand in glee

This is definitely the start of a beautiful friendship!

Damn straight I do!

Bingo

For some reason I pictured it as being pink though, I don’t know why

Anyway so, while Nikolina does need money it seems that she didn’t steal the tiara. Apparently it was given to her as a present.

Also Nikolina is only 15, and has run away by herself for reasons currently unknown. I’m starting to get the feeling that the crew (or at least the two we’ve met) might have been looking out for her.

Oh yeah, the moving travel case!

Given the rules regarding pets, I wonder if that’s what’s in there? It would explain the attitude of the sailors we met.

Is it the Russian Revolutionary Herlock? You have to tell us if it is...

He’s learning!

Yep, she’s looking at the pet rule sign, now show me the pet!

Whoooooooo!

Yeah, I’m pretty sure the guys on the door were covering for her (and probably her pet too)

Hmm, so Nikolina’s running from someone, so she decided to disguise herself to be safe and has been a jumble of nerve ever since.

Can I see...

Bless you Nikolina, but you’re not the best at keeping secrets. I’m pretty sure the crew have collectively decided to just look the other way and let the traumatised 15 year old have her pet.

HE CUFFED ME AGIAN!!!

I wonder if Nikolina’s beloved pet’s a snake?

Can I just...

Fine...

No, everyone must see my badge!

HA!

Ok now let’s go back to actually playing the game!

So, because she’s a jumble of nerves, Nikolina hasn’t been noticing much about what’s been happening around her. However I think she’d have probably noticed signs of danger, like loud noises, so I’m a little curious as to why she didn’t pick up on the sound of the tableware being sent to the floor.

From what I can gather about her ‘never dancing again’ whatever happened probably has something to do with the ballet.

Either that or she’s worried about being linked with her old life if she goes back on the scene under another name.

That’s a good point actually, while people are funny and I can get her wanting a memento of her life, that’s an incredibly distinctive memento to have.

It must have some sort of emotional significance, I think she said it was given to her by an Earl, so maybe her father?

Hmm, that’s a pretty distinctive thing to try and pawn Nikolina.

Yikes! So the Novavich Ballet’s got really unethical working conditions. (Which probably shouldn’t be too much of a shock given the time period.) Now I understand why Nikolina’s so keen to never put herself in that situation again.

Yeah, I thought that was the case.

Huh?

Oh yeah... that is odd

Ah, so that’s why everyone was so on edge!

Right...

(I feel like this would carry more weight if we hadn’t just been flashing our badge at anyone who looks our way)

Now onto the most important question:

HERLOCK NO!

Susato is me (but personally I’m hoping for a kitten)

Ok Genius, what sort of animal is it?

I’ll eat your funky hat if that’s true Herlock

Important information 2: Never trust Herlock with a pet

Please let it be that we were Kazuma’s pet

Wait no, I’m an idiot. I’m obviously supposed to ask about the speckled band

Wow she changed quick!

She’s leaving to talk to the captain, is this our chance to meet her friend!?!

Booooo, we’ve been chucked out!!!

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the unbreakable speckled band #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #susato mikotoba #satoru hosonaga #nikolina pavlova #i will avenge your death kazuma #also i will see that animal #this is a long one by the way lads #i might break the investigation parts into daily sections of progress #because these screenshots took forever to transfer from my phone

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sitaarein · 3 years

Text

Communication? We’re pirates! We don’t even know what that means!!

I got to work with @silvercloud-18 and @shinpoochy (x) for @grishaversebigbang‘s reverse mini bang event and I had a lot of fun with it! Hope you guys enjoy <3

Summary: Basically, a pirates kanej AU

read it on ao3

There was a ship trailing them, a ship that looked like it’d lived through almost as many fights Inej’s Wraith . And in her experienced opinion, a trail only meant one thing- trouble.

Her own ship was currently adrift in the water, lazy waves washing up to the sides. They had no particular place to get to, no goal to achieve. But the near battered ship behind them could change the atmosphere from lethargic to tense quicker than the blink of an eye.

“Should we invite them aboard?” Fiadh, her second, asked. Inej considered it for a moment, before shaking her head. “I’d prefer to avoid any more violence.”

“And if they choose to engage?”

“That would be a pity.” For them .

Fiadh seemed to hear the unspoken words, and her lips twisted up. “As you wish, Captain.” The girl wandered off to help with one of the hundred chores that needed to be completed on The Wraith. Inej turned her gaze back to the ship that had been following them, and after some squinting, was able to read the words printed on the side. The Crow . She frowned. Why did that name seem familiar…?

Dread dawned on her as she realised exactly where she’d heard that name before. The Crow . The worst of the worst. They would stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

And their captain….

Inej has heard more stories about the infamous Kaz Brekker than she can count. Kaz was the monster parents used to frighten their children to sleep. He was the monster who would not hesitate at the most vulgar of crimes. He was soulless. He was everywhere. He knew everything. His hands were stained permanently with the blood of everyone who had dared cross his path.

This wasn’t just trouble. This was a death sentence for Inej’s crew.

“We need to move,” Inej said to her navigator, striding afore.

The girl nodded, immediately twisting to yell orders.

Amidst the flurry of movement on her ship, Inej grabbed her knife, in case they couldn't get away in time. She glanced back to check on the other ship, and to her alarm, it was getting closer. She looked around herself and let out a silent curse. They wouldn’t make it in time.

Fear threatened to overwhelm her. Inej was proud of her crew, proud of how far they’ve come, proud of the name and reputation they’ve carved for themselves. And yet, no one had survived the Crows.

Was this to be the end?

No. She had escaped from Tante Heleen. She had freed so many others. She had destroyed slavers. She had stolen from the best- and gotten away with it. She straightened her back, tipped up her chin. If this was to be the end of it all, then Inej would fight tooth and nail for her family onboard. For everything she stood for.

No one had lived past an encounter with the Crows. But there was a first for everything.

She grabbed the shoulder of another of her girls. “Tell everyone to prepare for engagement,” she murmurs. The girl, eyes alight with terror, nodded.

Inej turned her face back to The Crow. She would welcome Kaz Brekker and his crew of monsters aboard. And, if it came to it, she would beat them. Her Saints were on her side, her crew beside her. She needed no one else.

They certainly didn’t look like monsters.

If anything, they looked….. No older than twenty. None of them looked like they could possibly even be twenty.

The same went for Kaz Brekker himself, if Inej was perfectly honest-yes, his eyes were cold and gleaming with something that immediately put Inej on edge, but he was just a boy .

The infamous pirate was dressed in the fanciest and least pirate -like clothes she’d ever seen. His suit was impeccable, fresh and ironed. His hands were gloved, and his left hand was wrapped around a cane’s head- one that, if Inej’s eyes weren’t deceiving her, was shaped like a crow’s head.

He looked like a merchant.

Brekker inclined his head towards her. “Captain Ghafa, I presume?” His voice was much more gravelly than Inej had expected, like stone grating on stone.

“What business?”

“It’s a rather private matter, I’m afraid.”

“Then speak freely. I trust my crew with my life.”

The pirate’s eyes glittered. “How very naive of you.”

All of Inej’s women immediately tensed. She signaled at them to stand down. They couldn’t engage with Brekker, couldn’t fall for his taunts, no matter how easy they felt about his lack of men.

“So you came aboard my ship simply to insult me and my women?”

“Like I said, the matter is confidential.”

“Then why approach people you’ve never met before about it?” Raya, her navigator, broke in, rightfully suspicious.

Brekker turned his cold gaze towards her, and despite everything, the girl shrank into herself.

“I have no interest in involving all of you- I am not, after all, a man who would jeopardize my own very detailed, meticulous plans with the involvement of people who’re just going to get in the way and subsequently get themselves killed.”

“And yet you came looking for me,” Inej said.

“Do I really need to repeat myself a third time?”

She scrutinized him for a moment, silently debating the worst thing that could possibly happen from listening to what he had to say. After a beat, she nodded. She sized up the two men standing behind Brekker- a tall, restless boy with dark skin and two pistols, and a much shorter red headed boy who barely looked fifteen with no visible weapons in sight.

“At ease,” Inej said to her crew. “Return to your tasks. I’ll hear him out.”

Fiadh and Raya sent her twin questioning glances, but did as she asked. Soon enough, all of her women have dispersed. She turned back to Brekker.

“Your men stay here.” Inej said. “And get rid of all your weapons.”

As Brekker made no move to disarm himself, she raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t have any weapons,” he clarified. “Unless you were to rid me of my cane, I suppose. You’re more than welcome to, in that case.”

“I’m not that cruel.” Not like you.

“No,” he mused. “I would really say that you’re nowhere near cruel enough to be a pirate.”

“Insult me one more time, Brekker. See where it gets you.” Inej said, mouth thinning.

His lips twitched, but he said nothing more, so Inej gestured astern and started walking, trusting he would follow.

This end of the ship was silent and private enough, shadows cast overhead because of the masts and birds cawing in the distance. She had absolutely no intention of going somewhere more private than this- she would not let Brekker into any of the cabins, or be left alone with him in one.

She’d spent more than enough time in close quarters with men to know such a thing would never result in anything good.

“Well? Speak,” she said, one hand on the hilt of her knife.

He gets to the point immediately, which Inej appreciates.

“I am in need of your unique skills and talents.”

Inej’s mind blanked, blood roaring in her ears. Her talents . She wanted to curl in on herself. She wanted to rip Brekker’s arm off and shove it down his throat. She wanted to scream at the sky. She wanted to go back to Tante Heleen and kill the woman all over again, making it a thousand times more painful than before.

“And who told you of these…. Talents?” Inej’s voice was deathly silent, infused with rage.

“A little friendly spider,”

Inej swept a leg under his feet , throwing him off balance, and drew her knife, levelling it at his throat. A sort of satisfaction filled her, seeing the boy practically lying at her feet, mostly at her mercy.

Unfortunately, he barely seemed ruffled, and that only served to make her angrier.

“Maybe I should kill you and send your body in pieces to this little spider of yours,” Inej said, digging her blade in deeper to emphasise her point. “It would make a good warning, wouldn’t it?”

“An excellent one,” Brekker said, not the least bit disturbed. He looked up at her, a glint in his eye. “But here I thought you said you weren’t cruel.”

“That was before I realised the type of man you are.”

“And what type would that be?”

Inej leaned in, her breath barely caressing his face. “The lowest and worst of scum.”

“I would think you would’ve known that from my reputation alone. I did spend a not insignificant amount of time cultivating my image. I would hate for it to have been time wasted,”

“Your reputation precedes you. Many things have been said about you, Brekker, but none of them cared to mention that you had a taste for…. What is it you thought I could provide you with? Exoticness?” Inej felt sick saying the words.

Bemusement crossed Brekker’s features, faint but sure. He blinked. “Pardon?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m saying,” she growled. “I would much rather you begged for mercy before I cut out your tongue.”

Brekker’s eyes narrowed.

“I was referring,” he said slowly. “To your talents of spying. Your wraith-like abilities.”

Inej was thrown, just as confused as Brekker had been seconds earlier. What…?

She searched his eyes and found nothing of what she was looking for. Brekker looked…. Not sympathetic , she doubted demons could have sympathy, but like…. He understood her. Understood her rage, her purpose.

She still didn’t remove the blade, but she did move back slightly, allowing him room to breathe.

“What, exactly , have you come for, Brekker?”

Brekker tipped up his chin, earlier attitude recovered.

“To make a deal.”

“Which is?’

“I’m assembling a crew. I need a spy. I heard your talents were unmatched,” his eyes flicked over her. “And it’s true.”

“What do you need me for?” Inej asked, choosing to ignore the last part of his statement.

“You walk practically undetected. You’re good at assessing threats. And I’ve heard you run a trade in secrets.”

“Not one nearly as profitable as yours,”

“No. But you’re still entirely unique.”

What a strange day this was, Inej thought, almost hysterically. The Bastard of the Barrell- one of Kaz Brekker’s many infamous titles, saints knew where this one came from- was paying her compliments.

“And what is your crew going to do?”

He smiled now, and she realised she’d better do anything to steer clear of his bad side. That smile spelled out trouble , clear as day.

“Steal a hundred million kruge.”

Inej’s shoulders stiffened, half convinced she’d heard him wrong, but he simply raised an eyebrow at her. Well?

She could refuse his offer. Start sailing to find new slavers to beat up, new trafficking rings to take down. She could put this day behind her forever and one day reminisce about how odd it had all been.

Or she could take Kaz Brekker at his word. She could have the chance to change her life forever, to change her crew’s lives forever. She could have the chance of earning, at the very least, a million kruge.

One option was undeniably safer than the other. But the other’s rewards would be so much sweeter.

She took a deep breath and looked Brekker in the eyes, and uttered the words that would undeniably create chaos.

“Count me in.”

Brekker smiled, as if her agreement was something he’d anticipated all along. Inej withdrew her knife, hesitantly, and watched him climb to his feet.

“The deal is the deal,” Brekker said.

Inej echoed the words, eyeing him.

“Be at the Fifth Harbour in Ketterdam two weeks from now.” Kaz said, adjusting his gloves. He looked up for a second, something inscrutable in his eyes. “See you soon, Inej Ghafa.”

Inej watched him and his two boys disembark, a storm brewing in her thoughts.

Soon, Kaz Brekker.

#the grishaverse #six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #grishaverse fanfiction

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

Text

I have a lot to say and not enough time to say it. It hurts, but ya’ll know what this is about so if you want my full fandom retrospective opinion thing guys, here.

I’ve been following Vivienne’s art and career since I found her on dA in 2009. I’ve basically grown up with her and have a wide range of opinions up and down her collective work. I must stress that I do not know her as a person and no matter how critical I get in my personal time if I somehow met her in real life or converse with her online again (like, back in the day we went back and forth. She was pretty nice to me), I’d be humble and congratulate her for her success.

Critique does not, EVER equate to attacking people.

But

the reason I don’t call myself a VivziePopVivzmind-fan is the exact same as to why I don’t like the proud use of ‘anti’. Let me try and explain -

The vast majority of Viv fans are just that: fans. Viv’s one of their favorite artists and they’re happy for her and obviously defensive when some mouth breather pops into their fan discussion calling her and all of them trash. Quite a lot of the Hazbin fans I know in my circle of friends are all pretty accepting and agree on the problematic notions and implications of her work.

HOWEVER, there’s a vocal minority in the VivziePop fandom that were and still are toxic. Their specific interest in Viv back in the day was toxic...and now that she’s moved on into a successful career I doubt they’ve gone away, considering the things I’ve heard. These people - they’d flood Viv’s comments sections and stuff with messages like they were talking to her when they weren’t and they’d unironically call her a god in a way that feels like gaslighting, ex: “I’ll NEVER be as good as you Viv! My art is just sooooo unpopular oh god you are incredible no one will ever like you as much as meeeee”. It made me uncomfortable. It made me not want to be around her because these people took Viv’s role in their lives so seriously and their demand for her attention...it struck a nerve.

These same fans have been around long enough to see actual shitlords - the likes of Kiwifarms and tapatalk wikis - come in and actually harass Viv. Viv’s been sent revenge porn by sick freaks who think they’re funny and believe she deserves it. No. In my non-name fan bystander opinion, Viv’s got some shit to work on, but no one deserves raperevenge porn. EVER. It was genuinely bad and yes Viv and her base have every reason to NOT TRUST these communities. Unfortunately, when these incidents happened, these particular fans took it upon themselves to gatekeep the fandom and act like Viv’s unofficial guard against any kind of decenting opinion of her, all without her say so.

((to the critics who will be all “but Viv or Faust said THIS to their fans-”, like I said, Viv’s far from perfect but regardless of how much she prolly wanted people to side with her I’m gonna guess that she didn’t want people sending transphobic death threats to DollCreep. Again, and this is coming from a bystander here, I have a feeling Viv knows about some of the toxicity but doesn’t know how/want to address it - which is a conversation all it’s own.))

This particular breed of VivziePop “fan” holds so much toxicity in her fandom(s). They aren’t the only cause, but they’re there. They feel entitled to her attention and her approval. They creep me out. Having spoken to other much-less critical admitted fans of Viv around me, these fans appear to creep everyone else out and put the rest of the fandom on edge. They’re gatekeepers. They’re creeps. Like the bronies and SU fans of yestertodayyears, they know harassment exists and that people have crossed the line - so they think any means is necessary to prevent that is automatically good. I could pile together all the incidents and folks who’ve had bad runs ins with this aftershock of Viv-obsession, but I do have a life of my own and this post is already stupid long so I’ll just list out the biggest examples and provide receipts when asked.

Critical blogs have gotten RAPE and death threats because they don’t like Viv’s art. HonestZoophobiaCriticisms, a blog I interracted with back in the day, def got one. Now Viv’s opinion of crit-blogs is that they’re “bad takes” but I can assure you she doesn’t want that shit being said on her behalf.

I’ve seen young artists get blacklisted from sites and forums cause they so much as post a redesign. Viv and co get told through the grapevine that someone’s making hatespeech and so preemptively block said person (prolly cause they’re in the middle of WORKING and can’t deal right now) only to find out after the fact that no, it was just a kid drawing their version of her characters. There’s serious miscommunication issues within the fandom about who’s ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and once you get the actual staff involved in this game of telephone you’re begging for trouble. The problem acknowledged, however, it’s souly from the “Viv never did anything wrong camp”. No word is said about how ugly the fandom is under the surface it’s all one type of person’s fault and not complicated’. Blah

I’ve only ever had ONE obsessive ‘fan’ who’d stalk me, mock me, and then redraw my art just to get attention from me. That shit fucked with my head. As a follower hundreds of miles away from Viv who’s agreed/disagreed with her through the years - I absolutely believe her when she says she hates ‘creeps’ and that she doesn’t want anyone in her fandom spreading hate on her behalf. It’s the one thing about her I’m POSITIVELY sure of. Whether she believes that said underlying harassment exists and/or is even a problem within her fandoms is anyone’s guess. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to write stupid blog entries like this, talk about fandoms and media and how they and the real world affect one another, and rb fan art I like. I’m cautiously optimistic fan with a side of salt.

Mixed opinions and critique within a fandom CAN and SHOULD exist. Hazbin Hotel has been greenlit by a studio! It has a product line of merchandise you buy. Helluva Boss is getting eight more episodes this coming year (yeeee:3yeeee). Two of Viv’s properties are now products. Nothing is immune from critique. And in critique you will find a lot of people who are not ‘nice’. Critique or analysis doesn’t have to be nice. There will be, in Viv’s words’ ‘bad takes’ on her writing. Maybe they will be actual CinemaSins-styled bad takes or maybe Viv is just mad that people don’t love and feel inspired by her characters the way she wants them to - it’s a fact she’s going to have to get used to.

((TBH, I’m pretty sure she’s already realized that criticism of all types need to exist. It’s just that, again, her and the SpindleHorse staff are kind of overwhelmed by all matter of takes and opinions coming their way they kinda can’t deal weeding out the fair ones from the assholes, so she lumps them all together.))

Shitposters, ironic fans, unironic fans, critical fans, just critics of Hazbin and Helluva CAN and WILL exist. They should exist and not feel threatened by the megafandom. There are people out there who are one step further and rightfully bothered by Hazbin/Helluva’s use of incorrect symbols, portrayal of certain topics, and the response by creators. These people have strong opinions and are actually disgusted by Viv. They deserve to exist too and should not be vilified because, like me, they’re commentary doesn’t consist of anything personal towards the people at Spindlehorse or the fans of her works. They can rant, they can be professional, they can be petty and they can be fair. But they will exist. You have to deal with it.

I am an ADD/OCD ridden autistic woman with serious anxiety issues who has no one to talk to half the time and so only HAS my fandom to communicate with. But that’s just it - it’s a fandom. A community. You have to learn to not think souly of yourself and of others in a community. A fandom doesn’t exist just for you or any one person. You have the right to be angry and defend or be offended. And it’s in the spirit of that that I ask, prrraaaaaay even, that I please

NOT BE CALLED AN “ANTI-ANTI” for not liking the moniker?!

I DON’T TO BE AN “ANTI”. Not ironically, not unironically. ‘Anti’ should be for politics and shit like pedophiles, necrophiles, nazis, serial killer stans, Trump, racists, antisemites, terfs, animal abusers, rapists, and antivaxxers. Anti should only come into critical media analysis when these ethical issues follow suit IN TO fandom discussion. ((EX: Anime and MLP proudly waving their cp and non-con into the public eye; Hazbin appropriating cultural symbols which are not satanic; Basically anything that concerns John K or Butch Hartman.))

If your DNI list unironically consists of the entirety of one fandom: CONGLATURATIONS! You have done the exact same thing these particular creepy Viv fans have done: monopolize the conversation. And yes, people I’m referring to, IT’S STILL A PROBLEM EVEN IF YOU’RE FIGHTING RACISM/SEXISM/HOMOTRANSPHOBIA.

There are hundreds of Vivziefans who ARE more critical, accepting of faults, interested in discussion and especially rewrite and redesign stuff who would LOVE to engage with you and give you a follow. There’s hundreds of people who no doubt agree with you!

But the thing I’ve seen these very proud AntiHazbinVivzieHelluvaWhatever blogs do is lash out at fans for continuing to like Viv and consume Viv’s art in a healthy way. What the actual fuck is your problem?

I get it. Say a crazy Hazbin fan gets on your case for even SUGGESTING Viv could be homophobic ((”SHE’SBIANDWORKSWITHGAYPPLblahablahblah”)). They get in your face, make some callouts, try to rile up support against you, leave disgusting harassment throughout your social media? Absolutely ban worthy. After that it’s perfectly understandable why you don’t want to engage with anything HHHBZPVivzierelated because you’re so fucking tired of being labeled an abuser or “just jealous” for having an opinion on a show you don’t like. I’m with you!

But,

A fan agrees that something in the canon is bad or that Viv did something they don’t like?

A fan likes your silly shitpost meme?

A fan asks if they can like Hazbin and follow you at the same time?

A fan does fan art of something you don’t like?

If your response to any of these ^^^ things is to get LOUD and accusatory, Vivsplain them about how they’re an absolutely awful person to ever question YOUR opinion, or just block them without a second thought? You’re a petty, vendictive shit and you also need to learn to let things go. I’m sorry but you do. As I already said, Viv’s work is a brand at this point, not just the work of a singular person. As such, there are gonna be mixed opinions and you can’t judge every single one of these people by what they like. You’re a shitty critic with a shitty attitude and yes that will demean the value of what you’re saying. This is bad because, if you’re trying to point out how Angel Dust’s abuse IS handled terribly; gay rep in Viv’s work is weak and terrible; the show appropriates closed practices; the fandom makes excuses for predatory artists and creepy behavior and individuals who have sketchy pasts - I’M WITH YOU. WE NEED TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS SHIT. JUST BECAUSE THESE ARE ADULT CARTOONS SET IN HELL MEANS THERE SHOULD BE ANYTHING CLOSE TO 2013 PONY-TUMBLR. <<<---- this shit is as important to me as it is to you and I really don’t like being called an abuser or apologist for saying “hey maybe blowing up at ppl for the shows they like ISN’T the way to go about this”.

But I have, just like the good old days of 2015 Zoophobia of yore, been blocked because I admit to being tired of ‘Anti’ being equated to ‘critical’. Same with hater.

Critical DOES NOT = Anti+Hater. I’m fucking tired of people saying it does and I’m tired of people taking up the term as some weird form of fandom reappropriation. It’s stupid.

Tl;dr: Once upon a time, I was in a budding fandom for something I liked made by an indie artist I watched on dA. I wanted to be a bigger fan than I was already, but was told by toxic people within said fandom that I couldn’t be part of it for reasons they’d made up in their head about my ‘motives’ against Viv. My admiration for Viv or what I liked about Zoophobia didn’t matter because I thought the story was really rushed and people weren’t being truthful with how they really felt about it - ergo, I HAD TO GO.

Flash forward 8 years later- My opinion of Viv’s body of work has changed but I still find myself in love with her style and some of her characters. I want to be on a forum or service that gives a healthy look at the problems there are with this series and fandom...and I’m met repeatedly by petty bs where people are again at each other’s throats. And yes, I do think it’s causing more harm than good especially when you insist there’s a “x person shouldn’t be trusted” mentality when fighting actual fucking racist, xenophobic, predatory bullshit.

#vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop drama #hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #critical hazbin hotel #anti anti #antis #anti hazbin hotel #cause I want both sides of this debaucle to see this and I'm tired #K?

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crewhonk · 5 years

Note

I’ve read your cockwarming with poe drabble so many times it’s basically ingrained in my mind and yet it still delights me every time 😩 any chance I can request some semi or just straight up public sex with poe? I love the thrill of possibly getting caught 👀

This isn’t good– I’m sick and tired and also drunk so YEET-- this is just a blurb rather than detailed fic! Smut (fingering, penetrative sex, exhibitionism) under the cut

Since the resistance had settled on Ajan Kloss– a small forest moon, the remaining group of resistance fighters wished to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Which meant that only the higher ranking members of the resistance got private quarters. You, being a lower ranking officer (you’d only joined a few months before you fled D’Qar) were forced to sleep in a bunking tent with two others. And honestly, it wouldn’t be so bad if the guy above you didn’t snore as loud as he does and it wouldn’t be so bad if you had the possibility of sleeping in Poe Dameron private quarters.

It hadn’t taken long for either of you to get involved with each other. You were both extraordinary flyers, and you had a keen sense for strategy which allowed you to become a consultant to General Organa’s strategist. Both you and Poe had clicked almost instantly, as well as Finn and Rey and found yourself sitting with them and BB-8 at most meals and fire nights.

Then, one evening, Poe kissed you. You’d been working on your baby x-wing, your flight suit unzipped to your waist and tied around your hips. Your hair had been escaping from its ponytail tied at the nape of your neck and the fly aways were plastered to the sweat on your forehead. Your white tank was damp and clinging, and your tattoos shone in the setting sun and Poe literally walked up to you, handed you the wrench you’d asked for upon his arrival and kissed you full on the mouth (you’d dropped you wrench).

Since then, you’d survived fleeing the first resistance and the battle following it and it was almost every day that Poe begged your o just cave and sleep with him in his tent– something you would have done if it wasn’t for the side eyed stares you got every time you were seen with him. You knew there were whispers– you sleeping with the Commander to climb ranks or to get closer to the General or the ‘Chosen One’.

So you slept in your bunk beds and suffered the snoring and gas-passing and all the bad things that came with sharing a small ten not quite made for ten people to live in together.

One night, when you were just about to close your eyes for the night, you heard the tent flaps opening and closing quickly. Now, you weren’t surprised this was happening- people snuck in places all the time so people could spend nights with their partners but frankly you really weren’t in the mood to listen to two people try to be quiet while they took pleasure in each others company.

What surprised you was when two very familiar hands found your body and how a familiar weight made the corner of the mattress sink, and how two familiar lips found your cheek and jaw.

“Can’t believe you’d rather sleep in this place than with me.” Poe grumbled, pulling you to lay on your back and kissing you on the lips. You breathed out a sigh and pulled your blanket back before wrapping it around the both of you. He shifted slightly, settling between your thighs and deepening your kiss, trying his best to pull out any noises from you that he could. His hands coasted down your torso and squeezed, sliding under your short and teasing the skin over your ribs.

“Poe Dameron, you are not trying to get it on in a room with ten other people.” You breathed out a laugh and he snorted quietly, burying his face in your neck and kissing over your jaw to nip your ear lobe.

“What if I am.” He whispered into your ear and you could feel your back arch into him and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Poe– no we can’t.” You breathed and sucked in a breath of air when his mouth found your shoulder and collar bone.

“We can, actually– even though it’d be easier to do it in my tent if you swallowed your pride and just moved in.” He cooed and let his hand tease the waistband of your sleep pants, dipping under and pressing his fingers to your mound– touching nothing sensitive but making you writhe nevertheless.

“You know why I can’t–” You cut yourself off as his finger slipped between your lips, gathering your juices and circling back up to press against your clit.

“Let me convince you.” He replied. You blinked up at him, trying your best to see him in the darkness of the tent. You had both done things like this with each other– touching and foreplay, but you’d never gotten into the full act of sex, yet. There was never enough time or privacy for things like that anymore– but maybe there would never bee enough time or privacy, and with the threat of death and war just on the horizon– nothing was certain.

“Quietly.” You whispered and you could almost feel Poe’s entire body explode with excitement. He moved immediately, gliding fingers into your core and thumbing your clit as he kissed you soundly, swallowing the threat of any moans of gasps he knew you’d let go.

His body was hot and heavy against yours and it pressed you into the mattress– both the pressure and pleasure making it impossibly hard to breathe, and just as you though you were a goner, he curled his fingers just the right way and pressed his thumb against you just enough and your hand fisted his hair tightly, making him grunt into your mouth as you came around his fingers.

He worked you down, slowly, languidly kissing you until your breathing regulated and slowed and he pulled away from you just enough to pull his hand from you and his pants down just enough to let himself out. Your hand wrapped itself around the base of his cock and he grunted at your touch. No matter how much you saw him, or touched him, you would never quite get over just how perfect he was.

“Quiet, Dameron.” You hushed him and stilled when someone in the tent shifted, starting only again when the movement had stopped. You pulled at him again and his hands gripped your thighs tightly, finding your waistband and pulling your pants off entirely before settling between them again and kissing you.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispered, and you nodded, curling your hand through his hair and gripping his bicep as he slowly entered you, splitting you I half and filling you in ways you had only ever imagined. He touched all of the right spots, eventually bottoming out and huffing hard against your neck. You were both shaking against each other, and when you wiggled your hips experimentally, he moaned.

Loudly.

You slapped a hand across his mouth and hissed a ‘shut up’ at him. Only when you were confident in his silence did you pull your hand away from him, and he immediately dropped his head into the pillow beside your ear.

“You’re so fucking tight, Princess. Fuckin’ made for me.” He grunted low into your ear and pulling out of you only to slide into your once more. Eventually you both figured out a rhythm that had both of you chocking back moans and grunts, and you were sue neither of you would last long– you due to the pain and pleasure combination and previous orgasm, and him due to the first experience of being inside of you.

“God, Sweetheart, I’m gonna–” He grunted, rutting his hips harder against yours and bringing a hand down to tease your clit and make you clench dangerously around him.

“Me too, Poe– oh, Maker.” You whimpered into his neck, words no louder than a breath.

He worked himself harder above you, thick arms caging you against the bed and teeth sinking into your neck. You could tell how much he wanted to be vocal– hell, he’d always been vocal all the previous times you’d gotten him off. His grip on you and the speed of his thrusts seemed to be compensating for his vocality, however, and his movements against your clit quickened and almost immediately sent you over the edge, arching into him and forcing his head down to yours so you’d have something to cover your mouth with. You squeaked pathetically into his mouth as you clenched down on him, riding out your pleasure as he came shortly after, spilling himself inside of you and warming you up in ways that made your heart flip. He bit down on your bottom lip, and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you so tightly against him as his hips pathetically rolled against yours, dragging both of your orgasm out longer and making it just that much harder to keep quiet.

Finally, both of you seemed to calm down enough, curling yourself around each other. He mouthed at your shoulders and neck lazily, marking you up just like he’d pictured you and you raked your fingers through his hair eyes closed and shivering at every touch he gave you. You were so damn relaxed you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d both just melted into puddles.

You were incredibly relaxed until you realized that the guy above you wasn’t snoring. Not only him– but nobody else was either.

“Poe.” You whispered and he grunted, determined to live out this post-sex haze as long as he could.

“Poe, you gotta go I don’t think we were as quiet as we thought we were.” You whispered and he shrugged.

“No, no you weren’t. Please, for the love of god move into his tent. I never want to hear those sounds for as long as I live.” Someone from across the tent piped up and there were murmurs of agreement following, and you and Poe froze, before he fell into a string of giggles.

“Well? Did I convince you?” He asked, and you pressed the backs of your hands to your burning cheeks. He was still settled between your thighs, buried deep inside of you, and staring down at you with what you could only assume was hopeful eyes.

“Well, I guess I should now, huh?” You groaned, amusement making your voice sound thick. Several satisfied sighed sounded across the room as you both got up from the bed. You both redressed quickly, packing your small amount of belonging and walking slowly out of your old tent and into your new one across camp– the thrill of being as loud or of taking as much time as you damn well pleased with each other making your heart stutter and stomach twist happily. Who needs privacy or time to get where you need to go?

#Poe Dameron blurb #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #poe dameron oneshot #poe dameron

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mythrilhusk · 4 years

Text

Korosensei Never Dies -Chapter 9

Words: 2,140 Ao3 Version Chapter 8 (Last)

TW: threats of violence, heavy (but short) discussions of death/murder

Quackity scowls blearily at the returning heroes. He and the other Ducklings were up the whole damn night trying to work out infiltration plans after Bad gave them the location of the laboratory and then peaced out with his team of scammers. Bad won't be returning again, but thanks to him, the Ducklings missed the whole rescue mission.

It's summer vacation, so everyone ought to be home anyway, but Philza promised to teach them fighting, and by the goddamned stars, Quackity is determined to make the old man follow through.

Philza steps tiredly into the classroom. His bloodshot, baggy eyes go wide in surprise as he sees all the students gathered there. Quackity salutes him with a smirk. Ranboo hides in the shadows of the door, watching Phil with worried sulkiness.

"Kids, I need a favor." Philza collapses into a chair, hiding his face. "I know you want him dead. But- please. Wait a bit." He hesitates and then continues in a ragged voice, "Purpled hit him with a neutralizing agent. He- he can die, again. I'm begging you all, please don't tell anyone or try to kill him until our time is up."

"Why should we??" Quackity demands, realizing immediately with a confusing mixture of delight and horror that Technoblade has been rendered vulnerable. Does this mean their plan to sneak into the lab is pointless now? "I don't know." Philza hiccups. He's crying. The tears burn a hole through Quackity's delight. "I don't know, dammit. Please, just wait to kill him at the end of the year. No, better, kill both of us then, I've done the same terrible things as he has! I should be punished too, goddammit, why is he the one to suffer for both our crimes??"

"I'll wait." Quackity leans back. "I'll fucking wait till time's up, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up my revenge."

"I'll wait too!" Tommy cries. "I'm the fucking king of procrastination!"

Sapnap and the Ducklings follow Quackity's example. The others follow Tommy's example. Together, the class proclaims their willingness to postpone Techno's death.

Philza rubs his eyes and takes the handkerchief Tommy stole from Wilbur to offer him. "Thank you, kids."

"We still get fighting lessons, right?" Quackity asks with a scowl.

"Yes, of course you do. You've all earned them." Philza smiles tremulously. "Ranboo, Techno, you can come out."

Ranboo steps into the light, blatantly normal-seeming, so unlike the nightmare Tommy and Charlie described. He hovers beside Technoblade as the former terrorist limps through the room to reach his desk. He seems so small and frail without the mutation-induced strength. He looks so weak. Quackity could put a bullet through his head right now and he wouldn't be able to dodge or absorb it.

But Quackity sees Philza watching Techno with worried, fond eyes. He thinks of Sapnap. Of Techno eating the goddamn grenade to save Sapnap.

Quackity decides he can wait. If he kills Technoblade right away, after all, Philza won't give anybody fighting lessons.

And if Philza doesn't give them fighting lessons, then who the fuck is going to wreak vengeance on whatever motherfucking scientists created the mutants?

++++

Niki and Jack watch through binoculars as their enemies spar with each other in the clearing outside the remote school building designated for Class 3-E. "Dang." Jack says. "They're not bad."

"They can't fight a bomb." Niki grins.

"Much less ten." Jack matches Niki's toothy smile.

"Did you get the supplies?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good work, Jack." Niki drops lightly from the tree. "We can proceed with the operation Smithereens in a week."

"Awesome." Jack chuckles darkly. "Do we really want to give them that much time, though?"

"We need to get them acclimated to the bait, first." Niki taps her fingers to her lips. "This will go wonderfully, Jack, don't worry. That loser class won't be a threat much longer."

++++

"Sir, Purpled is dead." HBomb reports, wincing nervously in apprehension.

"The fuck he is, I told that bitch to get me Technoblade, and by god, he'd better do it!" Schlatt tips a whiskey bottle into his mouth, gulping the burning liquid down. He lowers it and peers at HBomb. "Unless somebody fucked up again."

"He must have, sir." HBomb grasps the lifeline eagerly. "The neutralizing agent was nowhere near his body."

"What?" Schlatt says calmly, his tone barely warning of the torrent of rage he's about to unleash upon the poor unwitting HBomb. "Where the fuck is it, then?"

"Our clean-up team found the crushed casing nearby!" HBomb continues to dig his grave. "So-"

"So he found it, and destroyed it." Schlatt snarls.

HBomb nods quickly. "Y-yes, but-"

"Do you know how long it took to make enough neutralizer for one dart??"

"Months, sir, but-"

"And you're telling me Purpled fucked up badly enough that somehow that goddamn mutant knew about the dart and destroyed it."

"Well- see, we have reason to believe Dream is involved!"

"Damn it!" Schlatt bellows and smashes the whiskey bottle on the table. His hand starts to bleed and sting from the shards. "HBomb." He growls, trying to pretend he's still in control; he needs to still be in control. "Why the fuck is that motherfucking spider involved?? I gave him a mutant already, why the hell does he want to steal mine??"

"I thought you'd want his help!" HBomb squeals. "So I let him know we're trying to hunt Technoblade down!"

"Fuck this, fuck you, you motherfucking imbecile, you complete and utter moron, why the fUCK WOULD YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THIS??" Schlatt roars.

HBomb cowers, hiding ineffectively behind his broom. "I- I'm sorry, sir, but I thought-"

"Well, there's the fucking problem, yeah, bitch?? You thought. I do the thinking here." Schlatt reaches for his gun. "You want to know what I'm thinking, HBomb? Do you want to know what I'm thinking of, right fucking now??"

"Pl-please-" HBomb whimpers, staring into the barrel as it aims between his eyes.

"I'm thinking you're fucking useless to me, HBomb. And you know what happens to useless whiny bitches like you, right?"

"Please don't kill me!" HBomb sobs.

"Ahh, whatever." Schlatt lowers the gun, too furious to admit he can't bring himself to actually pull the trigger and become a murderer. "Leave my sight and don't fucking show your ugly mug for a week."

HBomb scurries away, leaving Schlatt to bind his bloody hand, alone in the sterile laboratory.

++++

Getting beaten up would have been bearable. Being bullied mercilessly would have been completely deserved. But being completely and utterly ignored for days on end breaks Eret like a goddamn crusher.

The more he thinks back on her actions, the guiltier she feels. During the sparring classes, they copy Philza's moves alone, behind everyone else working with partners. When the class decides to camp in the forest for the rest of summer vacation, Eret sets up his tent several meters away from the rest. She stands back and watches their former friends banter and laugh as they raise their own tents.

"Hey."

Eret almost jumps at the low voice of Ranboo addressing her. Turning, he faces the mutant, clenching her hands to hide the trembling. "Yeah?"

Ranboo steps up next to them, gazing into the smoking campfire amidst the scattered tents. "Why are you scared of me?"

"You- you already know why." Eret stares at his hands. Out, out, damned spot.

"Um. I don't really remember, but yeah, okay." Ranboo sighs. "I- I don't think I'm sorry."

"Neither am I, apparently." Bitterly laughing, Eret grips her chest as the sharp pain of grief blossoms.

"I think you are."

"What do you know??" Eret lashes out, shoving Ranboo. "If everything had gone according to plan, it would all be fine!"

"But you still wouldn't have any friends." Ranboo replies calmly.

It hurts that he's right. Eret knows he's right. They turn away, hunched and close to tears. "Why am I scared of you?" She mutters in a low, desperate voice. "Because I know. I saw what you are. I know you- you killed Purpled."

Ranboo frowns. "Techno killed him." He says it so casually. Techno. As though the bastard wasn't a mass-murderer and terrorist, bestowing violence in the name of anarchy and blood. "What do you think I am?"

"A monster." Eret snaps, rounding on Ranboo, who backpedals with surprised fear in his eyes. "You're a monster. You might not remember. Your friends might pretend to forget. But I know."

Ranboo gathers his composure and stands his ground, forcing Eret back a step. "If I'm a monster, and I protected my friends... what does that make you?" He turns on his heel and storms away into the trees.

Shattered and lost, Eret can only watch him disappear.

++++

Karl slips a briefcase under the table to his contact, who takes it and gives it a little shake. His contact then slides a folder over the table. Karl snatches it and stuffs it in his backpack. The two remain in silence for a moment longer. Karl leaves first.

Once out of the main school's cafe, he runs all the way through the woods to the Ducklings' treehouse. Echoing footsteps crack twigs behind him as he reaches the gang's base.

"Hey, what's that?" Fundy doesn't even bother trying to hide anymore as Karl climbs into the treehouse.

Karl pulls the ladder up. "None of your business."

"C'mon, we're in the same class!"

"You're not a Duckling."

"I can help!! Pleassse?" Fundy begs.

"Who the fuck is bugging you, Karl??" Quackity sticks his head out the window. "Fundy?? Get the hell outta here."

"That was HBomb you were talking to!" Fundy cries desperately. Karl groans and hides his face in his hoodie. "I know that guy! I used to work for him!"

"Where?" Quackity asks.

"Some laboratory in the capital!" Fundy cries. "I was shadowing him for a potential internship!"

"Let the ladder down." Quackity orders. Karl sighs as he obeys.

"Fine, but I don't trust you."

"You don't have to." Fundy gives a smug smile as he leaps up the ladder.

Karl enters the treehouse and sets the blueprints down on the table. Sapnap and Foolish stop painting Connor's hair and gather around with Quackity and Fundy.

The laboratory blueprints spread across the table, promising revenge. Karl looks up and sees the hungry fire in Quackity's eyes. He looks to the side and meets the molten steel in Sapnap's gaze.

Quackity draws his dagger and sets the point on the blueprints. "Whoever the fuck's been experimenting on people, let's fucking find them and end their pathetic lives."

++++

Technoblade slashes the saplings with a rapier, taking out his frustrated fury on the innocent young trees, ignoring the twinges of pain. He shouldn't be this weak.

Even before Schlatt started experimenting on him, he was stronger than this. He was powerful. The best fighter, the best tactician, the best at strategy. Now his body is frail and hurts merely to move.

He tries to snarl, but his breath catches in his throat, fear slithering roots into his chest. Irrational. He's being irrational. Technoblade isn't afraid of anything.

Except perhaps the pale blue of scrubs, the glint of scalpels, the searing agony- No! Technoblade scowls and tries to shove the flashes of terror and hunger and bitter, helpless rage away.

Philza approaches him with a cup of tea. Technoblade flinches away, unable to look at the man he failed, the friend he abandoned. "Techno?" Philza sets the tea down on a fallen tree and presses a hand to Technoblade's shoulder.

"Who am I, Phil?" Technoblade begs. Weak. The old Technoblade would never beg, would never cry.

"You're my friend." Philza answers.

"Why aren't I dead?"

"The kids agreed to keep it a secret and wait until the year is up."

"Phil. It's not going to last forever, Phil, you need to kill me soon. I can feel the damn resonancy in my chest. I don't know how long you have, but you need to kill me before I destroy the world."

"Techno." Philza's voice shakes. "No. Techno, we'll find something."

"Find what?? It hurts, Phil. It hurts to move, it hurts to talk... I've killed so many people, Phil, I deserve this, I deserve to die! Kill me, please. The kids are too innocent. They don't need to be turned into murderers like me." He thinks of Quackity, the blazing fire. He thinks of Ranboo, the gentle nightmare. Of Tommy, the merciless sunshine. Each and every student. They deserve better.

"Technoblade." Philza grips Techno's chin and brushes back his hair. "I deserve death as much as you. But I'm going to keep living. There's still people we need to kill, Techno, there's still governments to dismantle! We can't end now! We'll find a cure. A real cure. I promise."

"I don't want you to die."

"Ditto, mate." Philza embraces Techno gently. Techno wraps his arms around his friend, afraid to let go.

#tw violence #tw threats #tw discussions of death #technoblade #ranboo #quackity #philza #niki nihachu #jack manifold #jschlatt #hbomb #karl jacobs #fundy #fanfiction #not rpf #no ship #dream smp au #dream smp

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dlwritings · 5 years

Text

Got Your Six | Tom Holland | pt 3

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

pairing - mob!Tom x reader word count - 4,332 warnings - swearing, masturbation (m), guns

summary - Things go south between April and Harrison, and (Y/N) is determined to get to the bottom of why.

(previous) (next)

About another two weeks passed, and I hadn’t seen Tom at all since the night we went clubbing. Even Harrison’s visits to the bakery became more seldom, and Tom was never with him when he did walk in. Something was off, I could tell. I just had no clue what it was. April could tell something was wrong, but she was just as clueless as I was as to what it was. She’d come home from her dates with Harrison alone, which had been sun a rare occurrence at the beginning of their relationship. After only a month since she met him, I knew she was smitten, so the sudden shift in his mood threw her off and worried her. It worried me, too. I may’ve despised Tom, but I really liked Harrison, and I liked that he made April so happy. It had been a while since a guy had done that for her. Plus, he was nice and put up with my asshole-ish banter.

Just when April started to get really concerned over the fate of their relationship, Harrison asked her out to dinner on a Saturday night. I could see the relief flood across her face the minute he called her. “He sounded just like his usual self,” she said with a smile. “Must’ve just had an off few weeks.”

“Must be,” I mumbled, flicking through channels on the TV.

April sighed, “Would it kill you to be happy for me?”

“I am!” I said, snapping my head to look at her. “Swear, I am.”

“But?”

I pressed my lips into a tight line and let a heavy breath out my nose. “But two weeks is a long time to be off,” I said. “And I just hope he hasn’t been keeping something from you.”

“Always the skeptic,” she said, her smile unfaltering. She pressed a kiss to my cheek and jumped up from the couch. “I’m gonna go get ready.” I waved her off as she went to change into her clothes for her date. Finally I settled on a rerun of Saved by the Bell that was playing on MTV. I stared at the screen, only half paying attention to what was happening.

When April came back into the room, she was dressed in a cute, simple, white romper and had her hair up in a curly ponytail. “You look cute,” I told her. “I hope I won’t see you here tonight.”

“I hope not too,” she said. “I feel like it’s been too long since I got laid.”

“When was the last time you guys had sex?” I asked her. She paused and thought.

“The night we went clubbing,” she said.

“Two weeks?” I clarified. She shrugged. “That’s a long time.”

“Not really,” she said.

“For two fairly sexual beings who are pretty much in a relationship?” I said. “That’s a pretty long time.”

“I guess,” she said. Again, she shrugged. “We’ll just break the streak tonight.”

“I’m sure you will,” I laughed. “Who could turn down a (Y/L/N) who looks as good as you?”

“No one, obviously,” she teased back.

After the night at the club, Tom was having some serious issues with Harrison’s relationship with April and (Y/N). Supportive friend could only come above boss for so long. He knew it was time to step in and say something, even if it wasn’t what Harrison wanted to hear.

When April left the house the next morning, Tom met Harrison in the kitchen. He was drinking a cup of coffee and scrolling through something on his phone. Tom got a bowl down from the cupboard and poured himself some cereal and milk before joining his friend at the table. “We need to discuss this,” Tom said. Harrison moved his phone from his face and looked at Tom with furrowed brows.

“Discuss what?” Harrison asked. Tom took a mouthful of cereal before he spoke.

“You’ve gotta break up with her.”

Harrison got angry as soon as Tom said it. Tom could tell. His jaw clenched, and he put his phone down on the table as calmly as he could. “And why the hell do I have to do that?” he asked.

“Because being with her is a mistake,” Tom said. He was going to stay calm and not lose his head. He didn’t fight with Harrison, and he wasn’t going to start that now.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Harrison asked.

“You know what that means.”

“Enlighten me,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re signing her death certificate,” Tom said. “She doesn’t know what she’s dealing with here, and bringing her into all of this is going to kill her.”

“You don’t know that!” Harrison shouted.

“I know that better than anyone!” Tom shouted back. “This is too dangerous of a business to involve anyone you care about.”

“Don’t act like you’re so high and mighty,” Harrison said.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the walls aren’t made of paper, mate,” he said, “and any name could leave your lips when you jack off, but you choose hers. You’re just lucky April wasn’t there when I heard you.”

Everything about (Y/N) drove Tom crazy. The fact that she couldn’t stand him made him unable to stand her. She had such a mouth on her, not giving a shit about what she said to him or how she came off. Most girls he knew would smooth talk their way into a one night stand, but (Y/N) didn’t want anything to do with him. And Tom was serious when he told her he didn’t like the chase. Didn’t want the chase. He couldn’t care less if she didn’t want him to pin her to the mattress and mark her body, or-

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself. It was the night they went clubbing, and they had just gotten home. All Tom could think about was (Y/N) in that dress. The dress that hugged every curve and dipped just low enough on her chest that made him want more. He gave up on maintaining self-control and tugged his trousers and boxers down his legs. He had been hard ever since he got home, unable to think of anything except (Y/N). As he spit on his hand and gripped my cock, he thought about her ass pressed against him as they danced.

Tom pictured himself slamming into her, gripping her neck and pinning her face against the mattress. She’d beg for more, beg him to fuck her harder. He’d comply, snapping his hips violently against her.

“Ah fuck,” he moaned, brushing his thumb against his tip.

Tom could picture her on her knees, sucking him off. She’d look up at him, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. He would grip her hair tightly and force her to take all of him, letting her gag on his cock.

“Shit, (Y/N).” Tom squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his other hand down to cup his balls. “Fucking hell, baby.”

He would cum all over her face, getting some of it on her tongue so she could have a taste. Then he’d snap a picture so he’d never forget how fucking gorgeous she was after he used her however he wanted to.

“Jesus, fuck (Y/N)!” Tom came across his own chest, not stopping his hand movements until he was fully spent. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. Was it possible to hate someone and want to fuck them this badly?

“You had no right you fucking-”

“It’s not like I put my ear up to the fucking door!” Harrison shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “I was walking down the stairs, and you’re loud as shit.”

“Just because I’d fuck her doesn’t mean-”

“Do you send Paddy off to check up on all the girls you just want to fuck?” Harrison asked. Tom’s jaw clenched tighter. “What are you making that kid do that for?”

After the four of them went to dinner, Tom felt like something was off. He knew Mackie had some of his people -he only recognized Stan and Duke, but there was a third guy he didn’t quite see- watching them, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy over it. He called Paddy into his office and had him sit in front of him. Paddy wasn’t officially in the family yet -he was just a few months short of 16 when he’d be initiated- so Tom figured he’d give him a task he didn’t want the others to know about. Plus Tom had always had a soft spot for his youngest brother, and he knew he was itching to join the business.

“I just need you to check up on some people for me,” Tom explained to Paddy. “There’s no threat on you, I just need you to go see them and make sure Mackie’s not on them.”

“Okay,” Paddy said with a nod. “Who are they?”

“Their names are April and (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Tom said. “They work at Bake and Brew downtown. Just-” He gave Paddy a handful of cash. “-get yourself a coffee and a sweet or something and sit there for a while. Let me know if anything seems wrong.”

“Alright,” Paddy said. He stood up to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway.

“Is there something you need?” Tom asked him. Paddy turned to look at him.

“Why do you need me to check on them?” he asked. “Who are they?”

If anyone else had questioned an assignment, there would’ve been consequences but, as stated, Tom had a soft spot for his youngest brother. So, he approached him calmly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Never ask questions,” Tom told him. “I’ll always tell you everything you need to know.” Paddy stood up straighter.

“Okay, boss,” he said. Tom cracked a bit of a grin and squeezed his shoulder. He turned to leave again, but Tom let out a sigh that made him stop.

“Just a couple girls I’ve gotten to know,” Tom said, “and I’d like to make sure nothing happens to them.”

Paddy nodded and, without another word, was gone.

“Paddy needs experience before initiation,” Tom said.

“Spying on the girl you like isn’t experience, Tom, and you know that,” Harrison said. “You’re sending him off to do that because you didn’t want me or Harry or Sam to know that you care about her.”

“That’s enough!” Tom shouted, standing up from the chair. Harrison did the same. “You end it with her, now.”

“I can do whatever I fucking want,” Harrison said.

“You’d do good to remember who you’re speaking to right now,” Tom said, his eyes narrowing and his voice lowering.

“You don’t scare me, Tom,” Harrison said.

“By keeping her around, you’re putting everyone in danger!” Tom said. “Not just her, you know that right? If Mackie knows about them, or if you ever put your guard down because of her, you risk everyone’s life. I won’t put up with you being selfish because you think you love her.”

“If you think Mackie knows, then why did you send Paddy to see them?”

“I’m not discussing this any further.”

“If you think Mackie’s got people on her, then you knowingly put him in danger,” he said. “Talk about signing a death certificate. And for your own family too. I thought family meant more to you than-”

Tom cut Harrison off by pushing him against the wall and delivering a punch to his jaw. He groaned, and Tom took his shock as an opportunity to hit him in the gut. Harrison retaliated soon enough and hit Tom across the cheek. They were only fighting for a few minutes before Harry and Sam came in and pulled them apart. “What the fuck is going on?” Sam asked, holding Harrison back.

“Tom’s an asshole, that’s what’s going on!” Harrison shouted.

“Harrison’s forgetting that I’m the one in charge!” Tom shouted back. “I should kill you for laying hands on me!”

“You laid hands first!” Harrison spat.

“Commandment number four!” Harry shouted, getting a better grip on my shirt. “Number four!”

Holland Family Commandment number four: no fighting among members.

“I’m the fucking boss around here!” Tom said. “I can break whatever goddamn commandment I want!”

“That’s not how we do things here, and you know that,” Harry said. The four of them were quiet, only their heavy breathing filling the room. “Whatever the fuck just happened here, you two need to sort it out,” he said. “I’m not mopping either of your blood off the floor.” Harry and Sam let go of Tom and Harrison and left them alone again. Tom clenched his jaw and ran his hands through his hair.

“We’re cutting them both off,” he said. “You break up with her, now.”

Harrison sighed. “At least give me time. I can’t spring it on her like that.” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Two weeks,” he compromised. “Two weeks, and you end it.”

“Fine,” Harrison agreed. “But if I find out you’ve been protecting (Y/N) and leaving April to fend for herself, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Harrison?” Tom asked. “You’ll what?”

Harrison left the room in silence.

Tom knew he needed to blow off some steam, so he went back to his room, changed into some gym clothes, and headed to their gym in the basement. He wrapped his fists and headed over to the punching bags. Even though most of his business was done with his hand on a gun, it was nice to have good hand-to-hand combat skills as well. He had yet to really need to use them, but he was always glad he had them under his belt. Besides, boxing was a nice way to get out his anger out when he didn’t want to actually hurt someone else.

Most of the time, Tom didn’t want to hurt other people. Hell, most of the time he didn’t want the job. When a job like that is handed to you, though, you can’t exactly turn it away. Tom just tried to make it his own and work with his set of morals. That isn’t to say that his morals hadn’t changed since getting the job. He was much more fond of the whole “an eye for an eye” than he was before. Still, that wasn’t to say that he enjoyed it. He just was much more passionate about what it meant. You mess with his people, he messes with yours. It seemed only fair, and in his business, fair is the name of the game. It may not seem that way, but it is. Tom didn’t like to do anything to someone that they didn’t have coming.

Tom started rhythmically punching the bag in front of him, grunting each time his fist hit the fabric. He wasn’t picturing anything in particular, but his mind was wandering to his conversation with Harrison. He didn’t have feelings for (Y/N). Feelings made you weak, and you couldn’t be weak with his job. Plus, the more people you care about, the more people the enemy can hurt. The last thing he wanted was to drag anyone into this business who didn’t belong or didn’t want it. That’s all he was doing by telling Harrison to leave April. He knew what it was like to get thrust into this life, and he didn’t want that for anyone else. Not if he could help it.

Paddy was different. Did Tom want that life for him? No. Was it part of his destiny? He supposed so. It ran in their family’s blood. Plus, it seemed like it was what he wanted. While Paddy and Tom were similar in a lot of ways, they were complete opposites in the way they handled the business. Not yet in it, Paddy looked at it all with wide eyes and an eager mind. Tom looked at it through the lenses of reality and experience. When he was Paddy’s age, he looked at it with fear. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he was destined to have. At least Paddy was looking forward to it. Tom did wish that he could keep Paddy away from it. Save at least one Holland from a likely untimely demise.

I was already watching a movie on my laptop in bed when April came home at 9:00. “You’re home early,” I called when I heard the front door open and close. She didn’t say anything back, so I closed my laptop and sat up a bit straighter. “April?” I called.

Just when I was about to get out of bed and check on her, she came to my door. I could tell straight away that she had been crying. “What’s going on?” I asked, moving my laptop to my nightstand and opening my arms for her to come lay with me. She did, all but running over and jumping onto my bed.

“Please don’t say I-told-you-so,” she said, her voice muffled because it was pressed against my stomach.

“I won’t, I won’t,” I said, brushing my fingers through her hair. “What happened?”

“He dumped me!” she cried.

“Oh, April,” I sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

“He told me he just didn’t see us working out,” she said. “I don’t know what happened! I thought we were working out fine.”

“Was that all he said?” I asked. “That’s hardly a reason at all. Sounds like a cop out.”

“He said-” She sniffed. “-some bullshit thing about not mixing business and pleasure.” I froze. “It didn’t even make any sense,” she continued. “He was just stringing a bunch of words together.”

“He really said that?” I asked.

“Mhm,” April hummed. “Feel so stupid.”

I sighed. “Please don’t cry,” I said, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “I can’t stand to see you cry, and he’s definitely not worth it.”

“I really really liked him, (Y/N),” she said. “I just want to know what I did wrong.”

“I know, hon,” I sighed. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed and reached for my laptop.

“What were you watching?” she asked.

“The Hangover,” I told her. She opened up my laptop and pressed play on the movie, getting under the covers beside me.

I could hardly concentrate on the film anymore. Maybe I was wrong, but this break-up felt like it had Tom written all over it. The whole mixing business and pleasure thing were his exact words that I had heard before. April leaned her head on my shoulder and cuddled up to me. It reminded me a lot of how we were when we were kids. April and I were always close, and we never went through phases where we couldn’t stand each other. I always let her borrow my clothes, and we only fought over stupid things that we treated as more of a joke than anything else. From day one, I was always willing to do anything for her. This whole situation would be no different.

The next morning, I woke up before April did and got ready for my day. It was around 9:00, and I had plans. I had a mission with one goal: confront Tom Holland and call him out for the asshole he was. By the time I was showered and ready to go -around 10:00- April was still sleeping. I placed a kiss to her forehead and headed out. It was better if she didn’t know what I was up to anyway. The last thing she would want would be me meddling.

I drove to Tom and Harrison’s house and was a little confused when the gate was open. Confused, but relieved. I wasn’t sure they’d let me in if I said, “I’m here to destroy Tom Holland.”

I parked the car and stormed up to the front door, then pounded my fist against the wood. “Tom!” I shouted. “Open this fucking door right now!” I kept knocking until, finally, the door opened. Tom was not who was on the other side, though, nor was it Harrison. The boy looked a little bit younger than me and bared a striking resemblance to Tom. I figured they had to be related. “Where’s Tom?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

“He’s busy right now,” the boy said, his face showing no expression.

“I don’t care,” I said. “I need to speak to him.” Ignoring the boy’s protests, I pushed past him and into the house. “Tom!” I shouted, trying to focus instead of gaping at the beautiful interior of the house. Just when I was going to yell his name again, I walked into the man in question.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, wiping his hands on his trousers as he walked down the fancy staircase.

“I’m here to tell you you’re a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m doing here,” I snapped.

“I can’t do this right now,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You need to leave.”

“Like hell I do,” I said. “Is this what you meant by that bullshit phrase don’t mix business and pleasure? Forcing Harrison to dump my sister? Where the hell do you get off?”

“I’m not telling you this again,” Tom said. “You need to leave.”

“No!” I said. “You and me are gonna sit down and have a conversation about this.” I pushed past him and walked further into the house, ready to sit somewhere so I could give him a piece of my mind. “I’d love to hear whatever pathetic excuse you can come up with for making Harrison break my sister’s heart. Because right now-”

I froze mid-step, mid-sentence, and stared at the scene in front of me.

In the center of the room was a person, covered in blood, slumped over in a chair. Harrison’s fists were coated in blood, and there was another boy standing beside him pointing a gun at the bloody body. I covered my mouth with my hand and took a step back. “What, what the fuck?” Harrison and the boy turned to look at me. Harrison’s eyes grew wide, and the other boy -who had to have been the twin of the boy who answered the front door- looked at Tom, confused. “What’s going on?” I asked. For some reason, I was more angry than I was afraid. “What did you do? What the hell are you doing?”

“What is she doing here?” Harrison asked, ignoring me. The boy who let me into the house entered the room then, and Harrison looked at him. “We told you not to let anyone in.”

“She got past me,” the boy said with a shrug.

“Yeah, and I’m sure you put up a big fight,” Harrison said with a roll of his eyes.

“Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on,” I said, shouting to get my point across. The boy who was holding the gun suddenly turned and pointed it at me. “Jesus fuck!” I said, flinching and holding my hand up in front of my face (as if that would stop a bullet).

“Just say the word, boss,” the boy said.

“Boss?” I said, looking around for someone else -perhaps an actual adult- I might not‘ve seen before.

“Well we’re not killing her!” Tom said, prompting the boy to lower his gun. Boss? Tom? That’s what he meant by that nickname?

“You’re the one who says if anyone walks in on shit they’re not supposed to see-”

“I know what I say!” Tom snapped, cutting him off. “But now I’m saying something different. We’re not killing her.” The boy lowered his gun with a roll of his eyes and held it loosely between his fingers.

“Tom,” I said, “I swear to God above if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on-”

“Sam!”

The boy with the gun -Sam, I figured- turned to look at Harrison when he called his name, but it was too late. The bloody man -who was in fact not dead or unconscious- grabbed Sam’s gun and pointed it at me and Tom. Tom acted quicker than I could even process what was happening. He reached behind him, grabbed a gun that was shoved in his pants, pointed it at the guy, and shot him. The person went limp, the gun falling from his hand. I covered my mouth with my hand and felt my legs start to shake. “You just-” I inhaled sharply. “You just killed him.”

“Before he killed me first, yeah,” Tom said, running his hand through his hair. He looked at me for the first time, and I noticed his demeanor shift a bit. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Wow, look who has a heart under all that blackness,” I said. “No, I’m not okay. You just fucking killed someone. I-” Everything started to catch up to me, and I knew I was about to be sick. “Where’s-” I took a deep breath. “Where’s the bathroom?” Tom and Harrison both pointed to a room behind us, so I pushed Tom and ran out of the room

“But (Y/N), just so you know there’s-”

I ignored Tom and pushed the door open. It was a mistake, obviously. The sink in the bathroom was covered in blood, and there was a knife next to it. I collapsed to the ground and threw up in the toilet. This was too much. No way was this happening. This was a dream. A nightmare. A sick, twisted nightmare that I was going to wake up from.

Tom slowly opened the bathroom door and walked in, leaning his back against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. I threw up again. “What is this?” I asked, finally catching my breath. “The fucking mob?” I was being sarcastic, but Tom’s silence made another wave of nausea hit me.

I was going to wake up, I was sure of it.

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

TAGLIST

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #smut #marvel #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #got your six

128 notes · View notes

lovelyirony · 5 years

Note

'i’m the best worst thing that hasn’t happened to you yet' - for winter13 please? :)

Winter Soldier is a freelancer now. It’s surprising given the ironclad grip that Hydra had held over him, but it was...nice. To escape from their grasp, to be on the run and choosing jobs for himself. There was no RSVP checkpoint, no orders that had to be exact.

He got a job, executed it well (forgive the pun), and sometimes had coffee afterwards.

Of course, he took jobs from all over. As long as payment was discreet and so was the job, people were happy to pay a man who had once been a machine.

Jobs from all over meant that there were always requirements. He had no problem disposing of members of Hydra, but SHIELD was a bit trickier. Winter Soldier reserved the right to refuse a job, and had countless times now.

(Countless. Almost made him giddy.)

Agent Thirteen. The newest assignment.

The hit came from someone inside SHIELD. Which isn’t as suspicious as most would think. SHIELD is many things, but thorough is not always one of them. There are people that slip through the cracks because they get a second chance, something that Barnes thinks they could learn from ever since Jasper Sitwell has become...ill-disposed of. And Pierce has died mysteriously with files about Hydra’s involvement plastered to his chest.

But Agent Thirteen is born-and-bred into SHIELD. Her great-aunt was the leader of it all, and she ruled with iron in her bones and a heart that cared genuinely. She stayed late nights at the office, kept a knife on her at all times, and was...surprising.

There was a reason Hydra laid as low as it did throughout the years.

He had heard that Agent Thirteen lived up to the expectations set upon her. But he wasn’t sure that she was deserving of the fate that someone else had in store for her.

So he decides to move next door. Whoever was living there has moved out, so he’s moving in as Jim Wetzel. Typical first name, not last. SHIELD is the absolute queen of taking generic names, having a “just-moved-in” neighbor that’s a little too tense, a little too observant.

Jim Smith wouldn’t do. Jim Smith is too generic. No one names their kid Jim Smith anymore, it’s like sirens wailing loudly.

So he’s Jim Wetzel. He shakes with his right hand, smiles at the woman who says her name is Kate--it most definitely isn’t--and they exchange pleasantries.

“When did you hear about the place? It seemed awfully...fast,” Thirteen says.

“A friend of a friend knows some people a couple floors down, got the message from them,” Jim says with a shrug. “And now here I am. How long have you been here?”

“Almost a year now,” she responds kindly. “Keep an eye out for the washer on the left, I don’t trust it.”

“Good advice,” Jim says with a laugh. “See you around, Kate.”

Kate. What a bad name in the mouth. He’s not sure if it just sounds fake or if it’s because he knows she’s not a Kate.

He has never really moved in before. Not at this level, not for this long. He has furniture, and he went to the thrift store and bought an eclectic collection of plates and mugs, most of which are very weird. One mug might be cursed, he’s not sure yet.

Then he sets up shop. SHIELD’s hours run from six a.m. to about eight at night, or later if you’re a very good employee. Or a very bad one. Either way, Sharon may stay later. So he has ample time to place bugs.

The problem is that she will know all the typical places. Under the television, underneath the bed. (Which he wouldn’t do anyway, because you get...interesting noises.)

So he has to be sneaky with places, think outside the box.

Her apartment really is quite nice. Tasteful decorations, small portraits that are obviously faked. He finds her guns and knives, and one set of poison darts that are innocuously disguised as toothpicks in a jar. He thinks it’s cute.

Meanwhile, “Kate” is pretty fucking sure that her next-door neighbor is either a spy or a model. Potentially both. But no one that hot just “surprise” moves in, and no one can hold two boxes with one arm unless they’re Natasha, but Natasha would be smooth if she was struggling. This guy didn’t even look like it was a problem.

So she is suspicious.

But she is also interested in this guy. He’s her type: a little bit dangerous, nice smile, and probably looks good in navy blue.

So when she comes home at eight-thirty, she does check her home.

She finds one bug. She’s sure there are more in places that she would never check, and this means that this guy has been in the business a hell of a lot longer than she thought. It also means she’ll have to run facial recognition on any chance that he’s recognizable, and those chances are slim.

But she cannot dismantle the bugs yet. She has to leave them there until she has enough evidence to be a nice neighbor and confront him with a nice dish of brownies.

It’s odd, living in a place that you know is bugged. She knows that he didn’t touch the bedroom. Hmph. She would have.

She smiles at him in the hallway when they wake up the same time.

“Where you off to, Jim?” She asks, holding her briefcase.

“Gym,” he answers. “Gotta get it in somehow, you know? What about you, work?”

“Boring office job,” Kate answers easily. Kate does have a boring job. It’s all paperwork and accounting and the classes she would have failed if she had taken them in college. “Where do you work?”

“Private security firm,” he answers. Which is kind of true. He is independent. “Just making sure people stay safe from threats.”

“Important work,” Kate says lightly. “Ever go wrong?”

“Rarely.”

She nods, stepping forward as the elevator door opens. “Good luck today, Jim. Hope the workout goes as planned.”

Okay. Bucky knows she’s onto him now.

Shit.

Sharon has important shit to do.

But she is not an art student.

So she is trying to convince Agent Jenson to draw someone for her.

“I will buy you the good donuts,” Sharon begs. “You know I wouldn’t be doing this for any other reason.”

“One time when you were bored you made Thea on third floor photoshop Clint into a McDonald’s ad just to see if you all could get it to Times Square and you did,” Jenson says, deadpan. “I’m not sure how Barton doesn’t get recognized, he’s gotten on national news twice.”

“The marketing team describes him as a Florida man, we got lucky,” Sharon argues. “And Barton isn’t involved in this.”

Agent Jenson cannot be convinced.

But Sharon gets lucky because Coulson loves history.

James fucking Barnes.

Jim.

Goddammit. She’s screwed. And it’s only Thursday.

When she comes home at ten o’clock (yes she did procrastinate going home, it’s not like you can’t procrastinate death), she has a gun trained on her door.

Right on Jim, who has a knife raised.

“You know, why aren’t we both rational about this?” Sharon asks. “I’m sure you can talk diplomatically, Barnes.”

“I can. But I find more truth in threats and statements rather than diplomacy. Politicians aren’t known for telling the truth.”

“Good thing I don’t have a plan to go into politics,” Sharon says. “So let’s sit down. I’m not gonna hold this gun for twenty minutes.”

And then they sit. That’s awkward.

“I need to know something,” Barnes says. “And I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Of course you will. I’d be concerned if you didn’t,” Sharon says. “So. Why were you sent to kill me?”

“There are rumors of you being disloyal to SHIELD. I need to know if you’re working for anyone else.”

“No. Not ever.” He nods.

“Who hired me?” she asks.

“A man who goes by Crossbones,” Bucky says.

“Oh my god,” Sharon groans. “Of fucking course it’s Rumlow...”

Bucky freezes. He knows that name. He remembers that man.

“New plan,” he says. “You’re gonna help me get rid of Rumlow.”

Sharon blinks.

She’s used to decisions being made over a series of days. This is...this is new.

“This is personal, isn’t it?”

“You’re smart,” Bucky says bitterly. “He’s an asshole. And I hate him a lot.”

“Got it,” Thirteen says. “Then let’s switch it up. Draw him to where I am. I’ll take care of the rest. You’re on clean-up.”

“I’ve never had a team-up before,” Bucky says. “But I usually think we know each other’s names.”

“Sharon,” she says. “Bucky, right? Or do you seriously go by Jim?”

“Not like Bucky is any better,” he mentions. “But yeah. Bucky. Pleasure doing business with you, Sharon.”

“Better get started,” she says.

(Oh, he’s in love.)

#lovelyirony writes #winter13 #sharon carter #bucky barnes #buckysharon #i love them.......they #sharon #bucky #winter soldier #agent thirteen #they are both capable!#and a little bit too good for their own good!

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midnightartemis · 4 years

Text

~Chapter Six~

Read Me Here

View A03 for warnings

No one ever picked her.

She’d gotten so used to it that the thought of anyone ever actually choosing her, wanting to hang out with her, wanting to just be with her made her head hurt. It just wasn’t possible. It felt like a prank. Like someone was going to jump out of the bushes and it would all be some massive joke to them. To him. That she wanted to feel wanted. That she wanted.

She can feel his eyes on her like a gentle caress. He keeps looking at her and she doesn’t understand why so she stares at the stars instead until she works up the courage to look back.

He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t pretend to not be drinking in every bit of her he can take. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Ben plays it innocently.

“Like…” Like I hold all your answers to the universe. Like I’m as fragile and as strong as I feel. Like you want to tell me all your secrets. Like I can say mine back. Like the night makes room for the light. Rey swallows and looks back up at the stars. “I don’t know. Never mind.”

He lets it go. She knows what he’s doing. She knows he’s slowly trying to gain her trust. And she’s letting him do it. She’s falling for it every time.

“I dropped out. I didn’t blow up the chem lab. There was a small incident involving cesium and a misunderstanding. But… no one got hurt and no one cared.”

“Why’d you drop out then?”

“I… Everything went to shit after my dad died. I moved back with her for a bit after that. I was going to UC in Coruscant where she lived anyway. But that meant leaving Corellia. Leaving the others.” Ben shook his head. “I think I reminded her too much of him. Cause moving in with her only made it worse. And I was so angry. So alone. And nothing got better when I moved into the dorms so I dropped out.”

Rey let her hand creep slowly across the hood of the car until she felt his skin brush against hers. It sent a warm buzz up her arm like she was touching a low voltage live wire. Her heart raced as his pinky overlapped with hers. She dared not look at him and she slipped her hand completely into his. “You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

“Neither are you.”

Rey met his warm eyes. If he was playing games with her, he didn’t show it. Maybe his poker face was pro-level. Maybe he really believed he wanted her. She chose to believe him. She chose to trust the ache in her heart.

“I haven’t told my mom yet though,” Ben says. “I haven’t talked to her in a while. I don’t even think she knows where I am.”

“What’s she like?”

He plays with his finger over her hand, dragging it back and forth over her skin. “I blamed her for a lot of things growing up. For leaving my dad. For leaving me with him. For not fighting hard enough for me. She’s… I’ve never been her first priority. It was better if I just fucked off in Corellia. She’ll love you though.”

Rey’s throat tightened. He wanted her to meet his mom. He wanted-

“She will?”

Her voice comes out tight and high. She didn’t know what scared her more- that he wanted her to meet his mom or that she wanted to.

“Yeah.” Ben rolled over to face her, so close he could just lean down to kiss her. Rey didn’t move. “I think you owe me two secrets.”

Rey bit back a smile as she thought back to that night on the couch. “I don’t have that many.”

“I’m sure there is something.”

Rey sighed but only succeeded in catching the musky, rich scent of him. She let herself look at him. Let herself wonder what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair. To have him on top of her. “I steal slushies from the 7-Eleven.”

“Red and blue ones.” Ben grins.

“Yeah.”

“That’s one.”

Rey glanced at his lips. “And… I want to kiss you.”

“That’s not a secret.” Ben gives a low laugh.

Rey rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. “You’re a dick.”

“That’s also not a secret, sweetheart.” He’s close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath against her lips.

“I gave the first guy who kissed me a black eye.”

“Poor bastard.” Ben’s lips brushed against hers like a promise. Her body came to life at his touch. Rivers of want pooled in her core. She wanted nothing more than to drag him closer.

“He deserved it,” Rey whispered.

“I have no doubt.”

She pressed herself up to meet his warm lips. He took her in with a small gasp of surprise. She kissed him softly, her lips explored his, her tongue darting out to taste. A whimper escaped her lips as his tongue greedily pushed back. Rey lifted her hand to caress his cheek and lips when she broke away for a breath.

“Is this okay?” Ben breathes, his eyes hooded as he looks down at her. Rey doesn’t answer as she finally– finally– runs her fingers through incredibly soft, thick, raven hair. She pulls him down to meet her.

He’s being careful; his hands stay away from her, his lips soft against the cut on her lip. She doesn’t want that anymore. She can’t worry about this all being a big joke at her expense because it can’t be. Because no one kisses like this when they’re joking. No one is this gentle when they don’t give a fuck.

She breaks away just barely, her lips brushing against his as she whispers, “Touch me.”

His eyes, dark with need, met hers as his hand trailed over her hips and waist skipping over her chest to brush over her jaw and set her skin on fire. “Please, please, please promise you’ll tell me if you want me to stop. I won’t– I can’t– if anything happens to you because of me…”

“I promise.” Rey runs her thumb against the prickly dark stubble on his chin and caresses his wet lips. “I want this.”

Even if it’s just for the night. Even if I wake up tomorrow and you’re gone like everyone else. Even if it’s only to win a stupid bet and take what Kuruk thought was his.

When Ben kisses her again, everything has changed. His tongue and lips devour her, his teeth nibble and pull gently at her lip. His hands pull her closer, impossibly close, until she feels the weight of him on top of her. Her mind is lost in a chaotic orchestra of touch and taste and sound. All she wants is to get closer to him. Her hands drift from his hair to his back, her fingertips exploring the planes of muscle over his shirt. She shifts her hips until he’s completely on top of her half lying between her legs on the hood of his car. She moans into his mouth as his free hand drifts down to hold her waist and pull her in. Heat pools between her legs and begs for friction as she hitches her legs around his waist and cants her hips.

“Fuck, Rey.”

She doesn’t understand how he’s still speaking. All words are gone from her head, all she knows is him.

His lips leave her mouth and kiss sloppy trails down her neck as she wantonly grinds against him. She desperately tries to pull him closer, to feel him against her. Her short nails claw down his back and Ben groans against her ear.

Rey curses softly as hot tendrils of fire twist down her spine to her core.

“Want you.”

She whimpers as Ben pulls away instead, his hot breaths coming out as shuttering pants. “Fuck.”

He shudders and rests his head against her shoulder, cursing softly again. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I…” Rey stopped herself. She had the pill but it had been days since she took it. It was still back at Plutt’s anyways. All of her stuff was. Not that any of it was of any value. “We can get some. Or, go back to the apartment. Or…”

“We can wait. It can wait. I don’t want to rush you. I don’t want to rush us.” Ben swallowed nervously as he looked down at her.

Rey frowned. “Have you never-”

Ben went quiet, his mind drifting off elsewhere. “It’s just been a while.”

“Oh.”

“Have you… ever…”

Rey looks away from him, unable to take in his reaction as she shakes her head. “No. I’ve just- I’ve never been able to let anyone touch me before.”

Ben goes quiet.

“Did I do something wrong?”

She hates it. She hates how desperate she sounds. How quiet he got. She can barely see him in the dark, can’t make out the look on his face.

“I don’t think you could ever do anything wrong,” Ben says quietly. “I’m the one who fucks up in this. I’m the one who fucks up everything good in my life.”

His words settle around her in a heavy haze that she can’t quite comprehend. She means something to him. She means something and she can’t understand why.

“We should go back,” she whispers, “before Trudge and Ushar burn the place down.”

Ben laughs softly and the haze dissipates. “They probably shouldn’t be left alone.”

“The death threats do get worse when they play Mortal Kombat.”

Ben slides off of her to the ground and offers her a hand to help her down. Rey takes it without hesitation.

They wind back down the foothill in the dark. Rey abandons the passenger seat for the middle, getting as close to Ben as she can with a shifter in the way. His forearm rests across her thighs, his hand in the shift stick. She can’t stop herself from watching his hands flex as he shifts between gears. It could be classified as torture to watch.

He keeps wiggling beside her uncomfortably. Rey notices after about the sixth time when they come to a stop. She raises her brow and Ben sheepishly shifts again. “I… might have to take a cold shower when we get back.”

“Don’t worry. Seeing Kuruk is enough of a cold shower.”

Ben laughs and Rey’s grin turns stupidly big. She wants to hear him laugh for the rest of her life. She can’t seem to wipe the grin off her face as they cruise through the mostly vacant side streets of Corellia.

A sinking twisting feeling engulfs her when she sees APs car in the parking lot. He’d be up there. Kuruk would be up there— though he had looked so blitzed he might not remember anything by morning. Trudge and Ushar… well, she could always count on them to be blissfully oblivious to everything, but the moment they caught on, she’d never hear the end of it. She’d have to break their boards again. It was the reason she never got with any of them before— it was too messy. There was too much room for awkwardness. It would be too easy for her to become nothing but a thing to them. Some conquest to boast about.

Ben shuts off the car and starts to get out before he notices that she’s not moving. She’s just looking up at the few lit windows of the apartment, biting her lip. Contemplating. Everything had happened so quickly. She hadn’t even meant to show up to the park. She just kinda did. Because it was natural. Because she wanted to see him again. Because she needed one part of her life to not hurt for a second.

A dark part of her had wanted Ben to find out. It knew that Ben would fly into a rage– the same way he had when he saw Kuruk grabbing her at the party. It was the same dark part of her that had fantasized about feeding Plutt his heart medication until he choked on it. Or running him through with a knife. Or squeezing his bulbous excuse of a neck until those beady eyes popped out.

She stopped Ben from doing that the same way she always stopped herself. They were the outcasts. Society's scapegoats. The fingers would always, eventually, land on them.

Rey hadn’t planned to stay at the loft. That’s why she hadn’t packed. Hadn’t left a well crafted false trail of her plans to run away. But when Ben looked at her like that– when just touching him flipped the switch from beast to man– she couldn’t imagine going back.

And then they kissed and he bought her McDonald’s and took her to a place no one else knew about and told her his secrets and fuck she knew that was a low bar but no one had ever given her anything. Trusted her. Wanted her.

Her heart was racing as her throat constricted and Ben was asking her what was wrong and it was all too much. It was all- Her hand was on the door handle and she was out of the car and running across the parking lot to the giant field of dead grass. She ran until her lungs screamed and her legs threatened to give out.

“Maker. Fuck, you’re fast.”

She would have lost her breath if it wasn’t gone already as she turned to see Ben keeled over and huffing behind her. She could barely make out his shape in the dim light from the moon and distant city lights.

He came after me.

“Rey, come back to the car. I’m about ninety-nine percent sure there’s rattlesnakes out here.”

He raced out here after me when I acted like a crazy person and ran.

“Please talk to me. Say something.” He sounded desperate. Terrified.

Why?

“It’s… I…” The words barely crossed her lips. “Is this– Do you know about the bet?”

“What bet?”

“The one the guys made about me.”

Ben goes still and quiet and a choked sob escapes from her lips. “No! No. I wasn’t in on it. I wasn’t. They told me about it. Kuruk bragged about it. Rey, I would never do that to you. Come back to the loft, please.”

“Am I just some game to, I don’t know, fucking assert your dominance?”

“No.” He said it in a way that told her he already had.

“Then why did you come after me.”

“Why did I– of course, I came after you. You ran into the middle of a fucking snake-infested field at two in the morning, Rey! Can we please talk about this somewhere else? Please?”

Her heart still raced as her mind desperately tried to believe, to understand what he was saying to her.

“Rey, please. I haven’t stopped thinking about you from the moment I first saw you.”

She remembered that moment deep in her soul. Like the universe had shifted around her.

“I wanted to murder Kuruk because he kept making you uncomfortable. I almost did when I saw him grabbing you. And if I’ve done anything ever to make you feel like that I will throw myself off a bridge. And I know, I know that you can fend for yourself. That you’re strong and powerful and terrifying sometimes. But you shouldn’t have to all the time. You don’t have to be alone.”

You’re not alone.

“I’m not going to leave unless you want me to.” In the darkness, Ben reached his hand out to her. Hands shaking, Rey reached back.

When her fingers brush against him, everything hits her all at once. Her stomach twists as her heart aches. Her tears which she had stubbornly kept from falling crashed over her cheeks in rivers. She felt powerful and powerless at the same time like she could rule the world or it could crumble beneath her feet. The control that she so tightly clung to began to slip from her hands to his.

She might have kissed him again if there wasn’t the telltale rattle of a very angry rattlesnake to her left. They both froze, not daring to breathe as the rattle grew louder. She couldn’t tell where the creature was in the tall, dark sea of grasses.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Her lungs tightened as her legs refused to move, her eyes searching the darkness for some sort of movement. Anything to give her a clear idea of where the beast could be. She didn’t know what she would do when she found it. She didn’t think she could do anything.

It was only when Ben yanked on her arm that she turned and sprinted back towards the lights of the loft. His hand never left hers as he pulled her along. Kept her feet moving, even as her lungs burned from lack of air. They didn’t stop until they reached pavement.

“Are… you… okay?” Ben gasped beside her as she wheezed.

She couldn’t speak, only nod frantically. It was several minutes before she fully caught her breath again. Several minutes to bask in her own sheer stupidity. He must be thinking that she was a psycho. No sane person just randomly runs into the middle of a field because they’re scared of a little commitment. Right?

He came after you. That has to stand for something. That has to.

Rey closed her eyes and pressed her face into her hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I do, actually, but it’s stupid. I’m stupid. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the only one who runs when things get scary,” Ben says quietly. He doesn’t elaborate, only takes her hand in his and leads her inside.

I run away when things are good

And never really understood

The way you laid your eyes on me

In ways that no one ever could

And so it seems I broke your heart

My ignorance has struck again

I failed to see it from the start

And tore you open 'til the end

And I'm sorry to my unknown lover

Sorry that I can't believe that anybody ever really

Starts to fall in love with me

Sorry to my unknown lover

Sorry I could be so blind

Didn't mean to leave you

And all of the things that we had behind

- Sorry , Halsey

#reylo #kylo x rey #ben solo x rey #reylo fanfiction #reylo fanfic

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barbarasbae · 5 years

Text

Just a Taste-The Aftermath

Part 2 of Just a Taste

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning: blood mention, threats/blackmail, implied smut, threats of violence against women/teenage girls (small scene but I don’t want people to be thrown into it and be uncomfortable)

Notes: Y/n is cousins with the Byers and that is simply because the Party’s and Hopper’s involvement are pretty crucial to the plot of this series towards the climax so far. The vampire information from Dustin in this chapter are all almost just copied and pasted from the vampire DnD wiki page. I have italicized the text I am referring to. Also, this is about to be the most used gif:

Y/n woke up that morning with a special kind of pain permeating through her brain. With a groan, she trudged out of bed and pulled on her favorite sweatshirt and jeans. Due to the hangover, she was already running late and was forced to down a muffin and banana in the car. It didn’t help that she was also battling against the movement-restricting puffy coat her mom always made her wear. School was uneventful, boring as always. By lunch, Y/n had convinced herself that she had just dreamt having sex with Billy Hargrove, as well as him most likely being a vampire. That is until he threw his arm around her shoulders as she left the building. “I need to talk to you.“

“Okay?” He pulled her behind the school building, looking around like he was trying to make sure no one saw them. “So last night was...good.” He said, lighting a cigarette. She saw the fangs. Oh. She hadn’t made that up. Well, fuck. “You’re cousins with the weird kid right? Zombie boy?”

“Don’t call him that.” He flicked the bud of his cigarette to the ground before advancing towards her until her back hit the cinderblock wall. “He’s one of my step-sisters little nerd friends.” They were so close she could feel that he wasn’t really breathing like he should. It was like he forgot to inhale every third or fourth breath. “Do not tell anyone about what happened, got it?” He said, fangs looking much more prominent. “This is why all those girls are scared of you aren’t they?” She murmured, his gaze too intense on her face for her to keep eye contact. “Wait...really?” His brows furrowed. “Yeah. Girls start acting different after going out with you.” He twisted one of his rings, looking like he was thinking. The moment was over as soon as it started, him looking back into her eyes. “Good.” Y/n found it easy to say this was one of the scariest moments of her life. “I know where you live, princess. If Max finds out, I can and will drain your body in two minutes.” The tip of his nose brushed hers. She wanted to cry. “Got it?” He snarled quietly. She nodded, biting her lip. He walked off, leaving Y/n to deal with her pounding heartbeat and weak legs.

Once she was able to form a cognitive thought again, she immediately went to the public library. It just didn’t sit well with her that such a creature was free-roaming Hawkins. She checked out some classics: Dracula, The Vampyre, Interview with the Vampire, Survival Skills for boys (you never know), and Varney the Vampire. She spent the night completely ignoring her homework, pouring over the books and writing notes in order to help her understand what the hell was going on. And maybe help her get rid of him. She felt a little queasy at the thought of going against him; everyone knew how Billy had almost hospitalized Chris Nickleson his second week in Hawkins. Despite feeling like she was walking on eggshells, Y/n didn’t actually see Billy for the entire day. Which could be a good thing. Or really bad. As soon as the final bell rang, Y/n beelined to the middle school, cornering Will and his friends as they came down the front steps. “Hey, you guys gonna play Dungeons and Dragons today?”

“Yeah.We’re gonna meet up at Mikes house.” Will answered. “When?” She pulled out a pen.

“Four.” Y/n marked it down on her hand.

“Ok. I need to ask you guys about something. I’ll see you then.” She said, trying to keep her wits about her and make sure no curly haired blond heard her discussion. The kids looked perplexed, but went along. They thought Y/n was pretty cool. Maybe cooler than Steve. (A big maybe).

After returning her books (getting rid of the evidence), she went to the Wheeler’s house with her notes in hand and was greeted by Mr. Wheeler. “Hi Mr. Wheeler, is my cousin here?” He didn’t look like he knew who she was talking about. “Will Byers?”

“Oh yeah. They’re in the basement.” She thanked him and scooted into the door, almost running to the basement. “Hi Mrs. Wheeler!” She called as she ran to the steps. “Hey Y/n!” The boys looked at the out-of-breath teenager as she threw her notes on the table. She tossed her coat, sitting down at their little table, getting her pen and paper out. “So, let’s say theoretically, if there was a vampire in Hawkins, how would I kill it?” They looked at her like she had a third eye. “Or even turn it back into a human?”

“Is there something happening?” Mike asked, looking for his walkie talkie.

“It’s for a...book I’m writing.” She fibbed, Dustin grabbing the manual and looking it up. “A vampire can be of any evil alignment, and if its alignment was not evil in life it becomes so in undeath.” He scanned for some more stats a little farther down. “It retains all the abilities it had in life, plus it gains the ability to drain blood and life energy, and to dominate other creatures with its gaze...it can also command rats, bats and wolves or take the form of them. They are superhumanly strong and regenerate/heal quickly from injuries. They can also turn into a gaseous form.” He finished, looking up to see Y/n furiously writing down more notes. “How do I get rid of it?”

“You stab it through the heart with a wooden stake. You can also deter it from attacking you by wearing a cross and throwing holy water at it.” Will supplied, looking over Dustin’s shoulder. “Okay. Thanks guys. Have fun with your game.” She went home and spent the evening organizing all the information she had gathered, writing a plan of sorts down. Then there was a knock on her window that scared her half to death. She looked up, the blood draining from her face. Billy. She collected her stuff and hid it the best she could in her closet. She walked over to the window, his eyes dark. She cracked the window as little as she could so she could hear him. “What do you want?”

“Food. You smell so good. Could smell you from the street.” Okay, creepy. He kept his eyes trained on her, watching her leave the room and return with towels. After laying them on the bed, she walked to the window and begrudgingly opened it all the way. “You’ve got to invite me in.”

“What?”

“Just say to me ‘you can come in’.”

“Okay. You can come in.” He came in and kissed her, hands greedily seeking the warmth her skin held from laying in bed. She leaned over and closed the window, him breaking for a moment. But then he just kissed her deeper. She kissed back, but he could tell it was different. “You know I wont drain you, right? I was just saying that stuff to scare you.” He was suddenly a teenage boy again,not a monster, rubbing his thumb into her waist. A faint blush was painting his cheeks, which she didn’t think was possible. “Well it worked.” She said softly, hands going to his biceps. “Sorry,” he sounded sheepish, like he was genuinely embarrassed by his decision to threaten her. He stopped touching her, walking over to her bed and sitting. She sat next to him cautiously, feeling more and more anxious as he kept his eyes trained on her bandaged neck (now decorated with a Batman bandaid).

“Were transformers not good enough for you?”

“I needed to change it because it was an open wound that hadn’t been cleaned.” She retorted with an eye roll and a little smile. His hand ghosted over hers that was resting in between them. He gently kissed the wounded spot, then trailed his lips up to her cheek. She winced, clutching her fist as an especially painful cramp throbbed in her lower belly. “Can I help? Please?” He begged, hand gripping her upper thigh. His fangs had grown longer, Billy ready to eat. “Y/n, I won’t bite again. I promise!” The look in his eyes was very innocent compared to what he had just asked her to let him do. She nodded. A smile grew on his face. She was on her back, hungry lips against hers before she could blink.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove imagine #billy x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove reader insert #vampire!billy #vampire billy au #stranger things vampire au #stranger things imagines #just a taste #jat

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michealanddavidprojects · 5 years

Text

Il tuo cantante 2/ ?

Hello again!! I’m really happy to know you guys liked the first part 🖤. I think I will post it on my ao3 account too. So here is part two, I hope you all enjoy your reading, and sorry again for any misspellings.

Chapter 2 - Out

Aro was there. Right in front of him, on the first row, watching his movements with those hungry red eyes. It hadn't been hard to notice him there, not really, that pale face, his cute nose, his too dark hair, but tonight it was short a nice modern cut or perhaps it was his black suit or just because Peter had memorized every detail of that face. It felt so good being watched so closely by the other, he could feel every hair on his body standing in attention hyper aware of that gaze upon him, he had the feeling that if he looked too much at Aro he would end up succumbing to those red eyes and doing whatever the other wanted him to. What in the fucking hell was he thinking? Aro was a vampire, a fucking vampire and he hated them with all his heart. He really hated them . The Volturi were bloodthirsty creatures, they had huge parties for the only purpose of killing humans and Peter wanted nothing to do with him. Even though said bloodthirsty creature was the main star of Peter´s most indecent dreams, curiously said dreams usually involved the vampire's mouth around his throat, burying his teeth in his flesh and he just let himself go, throwing his arms around Aro´s neck, entwining his fingers in his black hair and letting himself be driven by the sensation of Aro's firm arms around his body, the sensation of cold lips his on him hot skin causing him to whimper. Peter shuddered, blaming the air conditioner of the theatre and not his reverie with the vampire.

Hypnotize the security guard at the door of the young magician's dressing room had been easy, he turned the doorknob and stepped in, the young man's scent all over the place filling his senses, making him feel dizzy and more of that sweet poison be produced in his mouth. Aro walked around the room looking for his human soon realizing he was in the bathroom changing, he sat on the black leather sofa and crossed his legs as if he had been kindly invited and had not just invaded the dressing room. Peter came out of the bathroom sometime later, wearing tight pants and a loose button-down all-black shirt, he was prettier without the wig he presented himself and didn't seem surprised to see him sitting there like they were old friends.

"Out," Peter said, leaning against the make-up counter the white lights around him. Their images reflected on mirror behind Peter.

"I don't think I introduced myself ...." Aro started with a cheerful smile, the young magician clicked his tongue and crossed his arms in front of his chest, showing a little more of skin, the vampire's eyes leaving his face for a few seconds to travel to that path of skin. Peter would never admit that he was just leaning against the make-up counter because his legs were too weak to walk, that his heart was in his mouth and everything in his body screamed to him to go to Aro and curl up in him, kiss his red lips and ask for things Peter didn't have the heart to say out loud that would most likely kill him.

He would deny to the end that those red eyes were making goose bumps rise in his flesh in a pleasurable way, that his hands trembled with desire to touch that very pale cheek, that he wanted to see the other's fangs up close, to be able to touch and even feel them while they were kissing, but Peter would never give voice to those mad thoughts and feelings.

- I know who you are and that's why I said: Out of here - Aro smiled, a loopsided smile getting up from the couch, staring at Peter intently, gluing him on place – Don´t get any closer , or I'll attack you ! - Peter said loudly, taking the first thing that was within reach which happened to be a can of hair spray, the vampire laughed softly reaching for him taking the hairspray can from his hands gently holding his clammy hands between his cold ones.

"Don't be silly, tesoro" the bastard said with a smug smile. Peter lowered his eyes for a few seconds to watch his lips hearing a low chuckle. "My eyes are up here, Peter."

“How do you know my name, bastard ?” Peter gasped almost without strength

Aro felt dizzy as he took Peter's hands, his daydreams coming in clear, vivid flashes making the vampire shiver all over his body and those whispers invading his mind again. Do you see ? I´m yours. He wouldn't need much to get at Peter´s heart, although he denied it Peter always had feelings for him. It was right there underneath of that pose and denial. But Peter hid his true feelings because of his hatred for everything the vampire was. For the little the vampire had seen he didn’t blamed peter from hating his species. Aro pressed his forehead to Peter's, feeling him practically melt in his arms.

"What are you doing to me ? You are hypnotizing me " The magician asked his voice above a whisper eyes locked with Aro´s. Aro could feel that Peter was making excuses for two reasons: Aro would never hypnotize anyone to kiss him. That was just disgusting to think about. Everything in him was made to be seductive.

“Am I ?”

“Of course you are…I would never want to kiss something dead like you…” The vampire chuckled again and whispered on his lips :

“Poveretto” Then with that Aro kissed him, one hand on the base of his back and the other on his neck. Aro's mouth was cold, it was expected, Peter didn't expect the soft texture and his touch on his waist was so gentle barely there. in his fantasies with Aro the vampire held him more firmly, really held him to himself, flushing their bodies together. Not that barely there touch. The vampire seemed to want to devour him with that kiss and the kiss was making his legs weaker and his body extra sensitive, he would not mind if the vampire took him in his arms and fled them to some luxurious hotel room. To Peter´s sadness it had been a short kiss which ended with a bite on his lower lip, when Peter opened his eyes and noticed the position he was in, his body against Aro's their faces close, the magician gathered the rest of his strength and punched the vampire´s shoulder who seemed very amused by the action.

"You …" the magician said, fake anger in his voice trying to pull his body out of that hug and failing, his body would not obey him and he knew the other was not hypnotizing him. Peter did not want to leave the vampires’ arms. The vampire took his hand kissing the back of it.

“Did you liked the kiss ?”

"Of course not ... Why woul- ?" He was interrupted by the vampire's mouth on his again, this time he was sitting on Aro's lap, on one of his knees, somehow they had ended up on the couch it impossible not to moan when cold fingers touched Peter´s hip under his shirt, it was almost a ghostly touch, it was barely there touch again and it frustrated him, frustrating him spending so much time dreaming about that touch and not having it completely, gently Aro's mouth went down his jaw tracing his skin with open mouthed kisses, down his throat, on his Adam pome, grazing his teeth, drawing imaginary circles on his sides . When Aro's cold lips touched his jugular it was, when the magician seemed to realize what was actually happening Peter froze. His parents were killed by someone like Aro, and here he is, forgetting about it and having pleasure in the arms of a damned man, who killed for sport without even thinking twice about the lives he was taking and his parents had been one of those lives. Obviously Aro wasn't responsible for their death but he was no better than Jerry. Aro killed without thinking. Luxury suits and seductive red eyes would not make him forget that, not even the memory of those hands on his skin, nor those touches that seemed to burn and his body seeming to beg for more. Peter slid off Aro's lap and took a little breath. He needed a bottle of cheap whiskey. Damn it ! He needed to go to Scotland to drink a whole barrel.

"You fucking pervert, get out of here or I'll stick a stake in your heart..." The ragged breath, the swollen lips and the messy hair made did not made his words sound like a real threat. Aro blinked “Out”. The vampire approached him again and kissed him lightly and said before disappearing :

“See you soon, tesoro”

#aro volturi x peter vincent #aro x peter #david tennant and michael sheen #vampire x vampire hunter au #romance #michael sheen #david tennant #fright night #twilight

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meredithpemberton · 4 years

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TELL ME MORE ABT UR CHIMERA THOUGHTS

So it’s not very refined at the moment since I haven’t made that much progress in Starman. I probably wouldn’t even call it fully coherent.

I remember that Sylvester had an estranged older brother that was the father of the villain Arthur Pemberton. Jack also possessed an older brother who he had a somewhat strained relationship with. So logically if our Sylvester is a Jack/Sylvester chimera then these two characters could be a chimera too. So this David Pemberton would be Starman before Sylvester and die. But since Sylvester was originally the Star Spangled Kid, how would we explain him not taking up the Starman mantle straight away. Obvious leap of logic to make the chimeras work would be to have Sylvester not become Starman to protect Opal City because he is committed to the Seven Soldiers of Victory and is very busy with their hero stuff, so David takes the mantle and is killed and Sylvester has to deal with that. Which involves him taking up the Starman mantle but also leads to him losing contact with the Seven Soldiers because communications just wasn’t as easy back then, especially when you have secret identities.

This also changes who Arthur would be, since he would likely still be money obsessed but there would also be blame over his dad’s death. So despite having a great deal of dislike for this guy Syl might also feel a great deal of guilt for the situation maybe even blaming himself for the villainy despite comics readers knowing that Arthur would be a villain anyway.

Then, the parents, if Sylvester is a Jack Knight chimera and the Pemberton parents also chimeras or are they just separate things, because them being a chimeras with the Knights changes a lot. Since there is a difference between following a paternal legacy and taking up heroism by yourself. Would they have knowingly hired Pat as their son’s driver when really he was going to be Syl’s sidekick/partner? Probably if they were chimeras, they would want someone with heroic attributes and strong protective instincts which is Pat. It makes a lot of sense for them to have been chimeras since they were killed, likely for their involvement.

This also changes things for Merry as in the comics she is adopted because they are worried about Sylvester not making any friends and acting out and getting injured (busy with hero work he gets hurt doing impacting his social life), in a world where they know about Syl and the dad is a hero himself why do they adopt Merry? Perhaps just the lonely kid things because despite being a hero he still doesn’t have friends they’re own age. Does Merry make her Gimmicks alongside their parents in this universe? Does she still work it out on her own? Another explanation for her adoption could be a different order, the Flyfoot Creamer story could change to threats on Merry’s life and his dying moments begging them to look after her changing to a adoption as a result of his dying wishes.

Also the cycle of vengeance thing that seems to be starting where I am in Starman with the Mist’s family could be a good parallel to what happened with Icicle, Brainwave and Fiddler. I.e. Cameron might become vengeful over what happened to his father (dead or not), Yolanda achieved vengeance and maybe discovered it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would and Tigress killed Fiddler leaving her son behind which could also lead to another cycle of vengeance within the villains. If Starman is going where I think it going and it’s stories are at least somewhat canon to this verse then Syl might have something to say about murdering people who have loving family members still alive.

#stargirl spoilers #sylvester pemberton #chimera thoughts #merry pemberton #arthur pemberton #really just the pembertons #and the knights

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1stunseeliefaelass · 4 years

Text

Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited

Chapter 9: Revelations

Death sighed, "In some ways it was, no need for a ruckus."

Meanwhile the Wendigo behind them began snarling as it transformed back into its 'normal' state. Death then approached it cautiously, Harvester still poised to strike it down.

The words it said next surprised everyone, "Thank you........"

All of a sudden Merlin popped into the space with seemingly no aid from a portal, "Ok I've finally figured out what this bastard. Oh hi." That last part being said in quite the nervous tone.

Morgen and Death looked at him surprised whilst Aspen shook her head, "Why is it everytime I get involved with others....YOU...happen to be involved with them?"

"Maybe because they're coming to a genius. Who just so happened to figure out what the hell that guy is. It's a Wendigo, kind of sort of....went on dream journey and got his mind fucked up. And then got fixed in poor fashion."

"Right.....and I suppose you have a plan to help with this?" Aspen asks him a bit untrusting.

"Well I mean....technically these things are omnivores. I dunno how to help this thing any further. Given the fact that it looks to be.....alright?"

Aspen facepalmed, "In other words, all you had was information about the creature and NOTHING ELSE. Ugh, probably got distracted by some lass or other."

"A, I was always fascinated at the fact that these guys are more amongst us druids than the brutish monsters most are accustomed to. And I also, no I haven't, I would've been stuck in my house for the past twenty-four hours, I am forty-eight hours exhausted."

"How marvelous. So what's the point of this information then?" Aspen inquires.

Merlin is unaware as Morgen approaches the Wendigo curiously but cautiously as well, and answers Aspen, "Meaning their cannibalistic tendencies are curbed..."

"Greatly.." The Wendigo hissed before Merlin could say it.

Morgen meanwhile felt a strong pull for some reason, only being stopped by Death and held back. The look in his eyes seemed to suggest concern, "What in Creation are you doing?"

"Something strong's calling me, quite incessantly in fact. It's just pulling me."

Death however grabbed her outstretched arm, "And where exactly is this 'call' pulling you? Cause to me this could be a trap."

The Wendigo looks up at him, "I won't bite....I know what's happening. Kind of....although it is rare to see one of your kind here."

Morgen looked at him quizzically, "What do you mean by...one of my kind...?"

The Wendigo suddenly paused with concern then told her quickly, "Crap....I have to go... if you need my help...I'll be in Alaska." With that he sprouts owl wings before flying into a portal he made. Once it shuts, Death notices Merlin examining Morgen up and down.

Aspen then grabs him by the ear and Death places Morgen behind him, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Owowowowow! What the HELL Aspen?" Merlin asked her.

"Asked the old pervy mage." Aspen sighs.

"I was NOT being pervy, just being fucking curious is all. Now would you please let go of my fucking ear?!" Merlin got out angrily.

"And you thought saying you were...'curious' was supposed to help your case?"

"I dunno, just seems a little bit off given what the Wendigo just said. Made me a little bit worried, and I just wanted to see what it was." Merlin pled.

"I did feel a strange pull towards the Wendigo, should I be concerned?" Morgen inquires nervous.

"I don't know yet. I need to do a further examination." Merlin insists.

Death holds her close on instinct, "Given her current history, that may not be a good idea."

Morgen was surprised at first but as Death didn't let go she started to enjoy it a little. Blushing all the more as she did so. Feeling his rough hands on her back was so soothing. After a moment she let out a satisfied exhale, which he felt on his chest quite easily.

Merlin of course says this gem before Death can say anything, "I think you're enjoying that a little bit too much over there my lady."

Death's own reaction, was to go red behind his mask, and go dumbfounded, "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"How long since you've been with a woman to have forgotten what THAT sound means?" Merlin questions him.

Death thinks on it briefly then looks down at Morgen, "Uhm......you wanna say something?"

"Well uh.......uhm.......ah......oh dear....." Morgen gets out in her massive embarrassment.

Death begins to back up, thinking that may help things. Letting Morgen go he tells her, "I'm sorry about that."

"I don't mind it, in fact I.....that is I......uhmmmm....." Morgen began before looking at Aspen and Merlin watching her, and she blurted out, "It was soothing ok?!"

Morgen then shuts her mouth quickly as Death looks back at her, "Uhmmmm well then I.....you're welcome...this is first time anyone's ever said that....about me."

Merlin gets a coy smile then tells Death, "I have something to talk with ya about. Now get over here before I start embarrassing ya even further."

Death quickly jogs over to him and goes on a walk, "Is there a reason that you wish to speak with me NOW?"

"Ok first off you do realize that's she's pining for ya right?" Merlin inquires only for Death to be silent, caught off guard by the question, "Oh my god....you don't. How daft are ya, I just need to ask."

"I can tell, believe me."

"Ok how long has it been since you've been with a woman? That has forced anything on you?" Merlin questions him.

"Uhm I.....I can't really seem to recall. That's why I'm here."

"Ooooooooh. So you need some memory magic eh? What exactly for?" Merlin asked him.

"I've been having visions, dreams, recollections, came here to see if they were memories or if they were just small dreams." Death explains.

"You do realize I could give ya a memory potion that could snap you back into normal recollections."

Death somehow...understands this, "So what you're saying is this potion will make me remember that which has been locked away?"

"Make ya remember all that you've lost? Yes. It helped me remember what happened while I was having a black out. Helped me avoid many an awkward conversation."

"Did NOT need to KNOW that. Of all things, THAT was the last thing I needed to hear." Death expresses in an uncomfortable tone.

"Look this'll help, trust me. If it helps me it'll help you." Merlin states before walking off then coming right back...,"Op nevermind, just in case something goes wrong."

"What?"

"Oh nothing to worry about Horseman, trust me. Just drink it." Merlin explains.

Death finally does so and ends up downing it all. Merlin tries to stop him but is too late. Death then begins to have a massive headache of pain, but somehow has the fortitude to remain standing. Which only concerns Merlin all the more as Death remembers all the locked up memories. The repressed ones with Lilith hit him all over again accompanied by him pulling through with only occasional growl in pain. Death then starts to weep softly, surprising all but Aspen. He sees Wren as the nurse that once saved his life, to the warrior she eventually became due to his advice to her, then when seeing the memory of her being dead he begins to weep harder. Then he actually begins to calm down a bit as he remembers his little baby daughter. The memories of holding her in his arms, when she was taken, and surprisingly when Absalom told him he searched for her and that she'd died.

"I need to go find her now!" Death shouted to his brother within the memory.

"It's too late brother. " Absalom begins whilst handing him a torn piece of the fabric Death had wrapped her in. It was bloodied as well, "This is all we found, what was left. Best to forget it, and move on. Besides her Mother was a Fae, nothing to be writing home about."

"You didn't look hard enough, you must've missed something." Death begged in a mix of denial and anger.

"Oh please, it was a Hag, since when do they leave anything behind."

"I promised to keep her safe! I promised! Not let me go! Let me go hunt! I can find her!" Death pleaded.

"Hunt all you want brother, you'll find nothing. I'm sorry for your...loss. But for the sake of us all brother, leave it in the past. It's nothing worth...crying about now."

Death shouted, "She was my child!"

"And I've had many children myself. The weak shall perish, only the strong shall survive. You don't see me mourning them do you?"

Death however finally just screamed at him, "SHE WAS MY FIRST ABSALOM! AND IT'S MY FAULT SHE'S DEAD! WHAT DO YOU HONESTLY EXPECT OF ME?! TO BECOME THE HEARTLESS MONSTER LIKE YOU ARE NOW?! TO NOT CARE JUST LIKE YOU DO?!"

Absalom puts the axe down and walks up to him, "You wound me for thinking I don't care. I think on what's best for our people. And right now I'm thinking about what's best for you. Let it go."

Death enraged, only shouted, "IF I FIND OUT, THAT YOU IN ANY WAY HAD ANY PART OF THIS...."

"Keep your threats to yourself Death, before you find them being shoved down your throat."

With that the memory ends as Death runs off in his rage. Death then comes to back in Aspen's forest. A mix of emotions going through his mind, particularly anger, as Absalom was indeed lying. And this time, Death could tell he was.

He immediately asked Aspen in a darkened tone, "Do you have any trees here that you need cut down?"

"No Horseman, but perhaps Merlin can send you to a room or dimension full of things to destroy?" Aspen suggests gently.

"Uuuuummmmmm.....I've a training room you could like. It'll base the enemies on your memories. You know, if you're pissed off at someone, you can technically take care of em. Not the real deal, but it'll help." Merlin explains.

"Just send me in there." Death says simply with a growl.

Merlin does so, leaving Death to face a memory of Absalom.

"Remember what I said I'd do to you if you lied to me? I found out you lied about my daughter!" Death shouts already starting the barrage.

Morgen and the others wait for him to return for quite a long while. Morgen begins to grow worried as time goes on. Suddenly Death appears from the room after asking Merlin to bring him back. Morgen stands straight up and asks, "Are you alright?"

"I'm a lot better now than I was a few minutes ago. I need to take care of a few things, I'll take you back in case happens." Death tells her in a depressed state.

Morgen only nods and allows him to bring her back to Vortigern's home. Once they return she heads inside as Death hurries off into the northeast.

When she gets inside at last, she hears Strife ask her a bit coyly, "So how'd it go?"

"It went well, but I think the memories are....more painful than he expected. He's headed northeast from here, if you want to go check on him." Morgen explains somberly.

"So where is he now? Or is he being private about that?"

"He spoke no words on the way back, he just left without a word as well. Only heading northeast on Despair as I walked inside." Morgen replies.

"Great. Also, uhm...did you encounter any problems while you were out?"

"We finally took care of the Wendigo, he won't be bothering anyone now. He's gone home." Morgen says.

"Huh? Explain."

Morgen does so, and notices Strife getting confused at first. Then when mentioning the memories and how he screamed in anger at the end of them coming back to him, Strife looked worried.

"You hear any names being screamed at all?"

"Only once, and I heard the name Absalom. I don't know it, but he sounded severely angry and hurt by something he did. Something about a child." Morgen explains as best she can.

Wide eyed, Strife said, "Aw shit. So he's remembering that now, great."

"What's wrong with that memory exactly?"

"Not my place, that's something he needs to tell you. Whenever he's out of his moods." Strife tells her before heading outside.

Strife decides ultimately that Death should talk to somebody right now. That he needs to talk to someone. So he rides out with Mayhem to find Death. Tracking Death through the tracks Despair left behind. Before too long, Death managed to find a secluded cabin. One that had ultimately seen far better days. Hell it actually looked as though it had been vandalized recently. Death looks around for any missing valuables and finds a specific locket he gave to Wren long ago is indeed missing. He knew because it was usually hung above the fireplace. Then he hears something in the basement. He goes downstairs with Harvester, finding a typical bandit easily enough.

"If you wish to live, drop everything you've gained from here, and leave." Death growled to him.

The man did obey and quickly took off in a panic. Death then goes through the bag of stolen goods and begins to place them back in their proper places. Feeling happy memories from some, and sad memories from others. The locket he glances over for a time, and he chooses to look into it. This locket had Wren's memories of him within it, and he decides watch through them. And then he saw the memory Wren had of the last time he saw her alive. He saw the beautiful cliffside cave they'd been in, with a gorgeous aurora borealis in the sky. The memory went well, then Death heard the part he was dreading.

"I wish we could stay this way forever." He heard Wren say to him.

"Unfortunately forever doesn't seem to last that long."

Wren then sighed, "Death you could just stay here. You don't have to leave. No one's forcing you to..."

"I kinda have to. Responsibilities unfortunately, besides Absalom would drag me out of here and kill you if I ever abandoned everyone. I'm sorry, but unfortunately responsibilities have dictated that I need to go."

"Death please, you gave my life more purpose than being a warrior ever brought. Than being a lonely nurse in my home brought. I need you, please don't leave me." Wren pleads with him.

"Take solace in the fact that I will return. But I can't stay, I have to go. Now please, let's not this any harder, ok?"

Wren then holds him tightly, sobbing into his chest. This lasted for some time as he comforted her. Finally Wren told him softly, "Death, I love you. Please promise you'll return to me soon."

"I'll try." Death told her before gently kissing her, then Wren asked of him,

"Before you go, please do one thing for me. So I can bare this loneliness."

"What is that?"

"Impregnate me. Please." Wren begged him.

"Uh.....huh. It's gonna be a little bit different but, I think I have my ways." Death expresses with a chuckle before they got to it.

After this Death saw them have their moment of passion and how he left her at home at the end of the night. He closes the locket, and places his head in his hands.

"Staying was the choice I should've made. I'm sorry."

Suddenly he heard a light knock, and turned his head growling in an undetermined emotion.

"Hey cool it dude, it's only me." Strife calmly states.

"Why are you here? How the hell did you find me? And to top it all off, how much of that did you hear?"

"Small bit. Came here cause I thought you might need somebody to talk to." Strife tells him.

"Riiiiiight. And you didn't think I wouldn't be in the mood?"

"Uh huh. As for how I found you, got the direction you went in, and you didn't help things by not hiding Despair's tracks."

"Just.....just leave me to this. So I can do something I didn't do a long time ago." Death implored him.

"Hey, I'm coming in. And I'm not leaving, not while Uther's still running around. Besides, you shouldn't be alone while like this. If you want me quiet, that's fine. But I'm not leaving bro. I'm staying right here with ya."

"Fine, but silence is what I'm seeking now." Death calmly said.

Strife then sat down on a chair behind the couch Death was sat on. Remaining quiet as Death asked him to. Strife occasionally glanced his way, noticing the pain he felt in his current body language. Strife soon decided to do some maintenance on his guns to pass the time. Better than the ringing in his ears that often came with prolonged silence. While there was the occasional click of parts or a metallic tink, Death didn't seem to mind it. If anything he couldn't blame Strife for passing the time that way. He only kept staring at the locket for what seemed like hours, in fact it was quite a long time before Death finally sighed. Strife paused, listening intently for whatever his brother may say at last.

"Thanks, for being silent and being here."

"You're welcome. Feel free to stick around, I'm not done cleaning Mercy here." Strife told him.

Death nods then heads outside, finding a patch of gravestones nearby. He goes up to one in particular, looking at it in silent reverence. Then suddenly, he noticed the grave site itself had freshly disturbed dirt. As if someone had been digging recently. Slowly gaining a look of concern mixed with shock, then he turned Harvester into a shovel. He needed to see for sure that she was intact, that nothing was taken. That SHE wasn't taken. Then upon reaching the hollow hole where she'd been placed eons before, he found no body. Fearing the worst had been done, Death backs away in pure shock. Then upon collapsing into a sitting position, he heard Strife hurry outside.

"Yo you alright out here, what the hell's going on?!"

Death can only point to show Strife what's wrong.

Strife then hurried over and examined the exhumed coffin. Which currently had a hole through the top, as if someone had punched through it, "Ok, where did the body go? And what the hell happened to the coffin?"

"I left her here....I could've sworn it was right here."

Strife then walked up to his brother then kneeled, "Dude snap out of it.", shaking Death in the process.

"Waaaugh....What? What what?"

"Bro, coffin. Look at it." Strife tells him.

Death does so reluctantly and actually sees the coffin lid's hole. This only raises even more questions though, "How could there be a hole? Why is it looking as if it's from the inside? Did I bury her alive? No that can't be right, I felt no pulse on her.....she never breathed.....Maybe some weird version of a coma? No that's ridiculous. Uhm uh....."

"Wait a minute, what happened?"

Death takes a moment to breathe and asks Strife, "If I tell you this, can I trust you to keep quiet about it?"

"Remember Lilith? Kept my mouth shut about that. I still think you should Fury and War though."

"I'm still afraid that they'll try to avenge me. And end up as playthings, like I did."

"A, you don't give those two enough credit. B, you beat yourself up way too much. And C, War's way too smart for that." Strife explains.

"What about Fury?"

"Eh....mixed response to that one. But me and War will keep her 'calm' and in close proximity in case she actually does go after her. Trust me, you've got to worry about when it comes to those two, ok?" Strife assures him.

"You think they'll react to it ok? That they won't....be ashamed of me because of what happened to me?"

"They know just as well as us how fucked up Lilith is. How evil, twisted, and manipulative that BITCH can be. I also know they won't shame you for something that wasn't your fault. I didn't, and I never will. You didn't deserve that, not one second of those three days." Strife states calmly.

"Thank you."

"So you gonna start explaining this whole place to me?" Strife asks.

"Remember the fact that I, had a daughter once?"

Strife cocked his head skeptically, "You? Having a kid?"

Death only sighs and then tells Strife, "Remove the helm, I'll show you."

"A, it's a visor. B, give me a second to unhook it."

Once Strife got it off of him, Death then showed him the memories of Wren, the last time he saw her alive, his reaction to a letter she sent about her pregnancy, and the day he found her dead. Next came his memories of their little daughter. How he held her, the anklet she was given based on Nephilim tradition, the Hag that took her from him, and Absalom's bullshit towards Death. Only then did Strife remember for himself. He remembered how depressed Death had become. How he'd rarely eat unless forced to, almost never speaking, and just obsessing over the piece of fabric. Even to the point he wrapped it around a tiny felt doll made to look like an infant. He always kept it in a little box with a ring he'd made for Wren a long time ago. One he never got to give her. It was a pewter feather that wrapped around the finger with the vein of said feather being blue glowstone. Wren had once said it was her favorite.

"Dude, don't this the wrong way. I thought you were screwing around with her. I didn't know it was serious! If I knew it was, I wouldn't even have allowed Aspen to take your memories. Or even allowed to go attempt it." Strife expressed sympathetically.

Death only shook his head, "Not your fault, I just made the choice. But she's missing."

"Yeah, strangely. You don't think that she pushed her way out?"

"I don't know. I don't even see how that's even possible. She was dead, no pulse, no signs of life, nothing." Death stated.

"Well maybe it was so faint you didn't notice it?" Strife asks cautiously.

"I checked. I used my magic in order to see if there was life in her. I sensed NOTHING. No matter how many times I checked, or how many times I actually prayed. There was no life."

"Yeesh, talk about a horror story. Apparently somebody up and died and came back? Humans talk about crap like this." Strife remarked.

"Yes but those stories are about elderly people, and someone who's tied to the Creator. Not someone who's young and had no relations to him." Death insisted.

Course behind both Horseman, a young woman had just returned with a hand pulled wagon behind her. Upon seeing Death however, she quietly lowered the wagon down and began to back away towards the house. Not wanting to be seen, especially not now.

Death suddenly senses life nearby, "We're not alone."

He then turns around and nearly throws Harvester in that direction. Only to hear a familiar voice shout to him, "Wait! Death calm down!"

Death did so, slowly, and lowered Harvester. Once he did, he saw someone he never thought he would again. In his shock and disbelief, he dropped his scythes, "I uh....I...Wren?"

"Hello Death." Wren told him, looking as though nothing had happened to her.

Death immediately comes up and begins checking her over. He finds no signs of dirt, she isn't wearing the dress he found and buried her in, he then checks for any Necromancy. To his further shock, there are no signs of that magic having been used on her. He does notice her knuckles looked scratched up and a bit swollen, as if she'd punched something and broken them recently.

"I think you need to start explaining something to me."

"Yeah, last my brother knew, you were DEAD." Strife adds on.

Wren sighed and looked up at him, "I once told you I was a Fae, but that was a lie. I'm not a Fae at all, I'm an Arcaneian. From the realm once called Arcaena. You know of the race I'm sure, having fought them before."

"Yeah, one of your Generals nearly killed. In fact that's how we met."

Wren nods, "Yes, I recall readily. You came to me battered beyond all belief, a sleek sword through your chest. I even remember how many times you tried getting out of bed."

"Yeah....but how does any of that explain you being ALIVE?!"

"Calm down and I'll get there. Arcaneians have an ability to resurrect after a long time. For some it takes longer than others. The only catch, you can only do so a few times. Should you reach a particular age, you'll just die. You won't have anymore chances." Wren tells him calmly.

"Oh, are there any other things that I should know about?" Death inquired.

"We have tattoos that only reveal themselves on Arcaena. And should we indeed die we turn into a weapon that only has a shadow of our personality. What we were in life, is barely a memory, if even that. It's actually....kind of terrifying to think about." Wren tells him sounding a bit nervous.

"Oh GRAND....great, so.....that's a.....lot to take in actually." Death says being reminded of the Grand Abominations briefly.

"I know it's a bit like those....'devices' you were involved with. But it's not the same thing, it's different I assure you. It's only a scary concept for me."

Death sighed before asking, "So...how powerful are these weapons?"

"The Abominations were more powerful than them overall. But they can get to massive destruction levels if they're an old construct or weapon, if they're original body or soul is extremely powerful enough to boost them to that degree, or when they become mystically charged enough."

Death looks at her a bit wide eyed, "You have any examples of these?"

"Yes actually. Although I'm.....reluctant to bring them up." Wren told him nervously, staring at the graves of her family members.

Death observes them a bit and questions, "If I dig them up, am I going to find these 'things' you were talking about?"

"I would assume so....but please reconsider. Let's just leave them be please....." Wren pleads with him.

Death can see the fear in her eyes, and it's never been something he got used to, "We won't touch them. Why are you, terrified to begin with?"

"To look upon them......is to acknowledge my own eventual fate. And there's barely anything left of their original selves in those weapons now......It used to give me nightmares....about what may happen to me....and when I was stuck in that grave.....I had to listen to them.....speaking to me....." Wren tells him in a fearful tone.

Death hugs her, holding her closely, "If I knew, I would not have buried. I only need to ask one more question? What would've happened if I had cremated you on the pyre?"

"It wouldn't have done anything really, only made my recovery longer. And probably more painful too." Wren expresses simply, calming down a slight.

"Glad I buried you." Death states stroking her back, "So....how have you been doing these past few...eons now?"

"I only came out recently. Aside from being scared shitless in that dirt, I have been just gathering supplies and keeping a low profile mostly."

Death then thinks a moment, before asking Strife telepathically, "Would it be good to tell her about our daughter?"

"I dunno dude this is up to you. It may be a BAD idea, but if you wanna go for it then go for it. She's probably gonna find out on her own eventually anyway."

Death swallows hard, dreading what he's inevitably having to tell her, "Wren....I'm not sure if you heard me. But when I found our daughter......I promised you I'd keep her safe. Do you.....remember that?"

"I remember hearing your voice once. Although it was long ago, and you sounded devastated. That's about it. Why? What happened?" Wren questioned him concerned.

"I......I couldn't......I......I failed.....I failed you Wren......I failed our daughter......a Hag took her.....and I couldn't.....stop her......My brother refused to let me.....go find our little one.......I don't know her fate......but I.......I fear what it may be. I'm so sorry......I'm so sorry Wren....." Death told her falling to his knees.

"So she's gone? You've never found her?" Wren implored him.

"I tried everything.....I couldn't find her.....I even tried finding Hag, and I found no remains either. Given the current information I got.....I'm glad I never any remains or strange weapons. So there's some hope at least......I'm....I'm so sorry.....I....wish I could've saved her. Please forgive me...."

Wren knelt with him and this time was the one doing the holding, "We'll find her Death, one way or another. Just please don't blame yourself. You did all you could for her."

Strife turns around and walks off, clearly trying to hide his choked up voice, "I just need to....go over there for a minute.....I need a little minute to myself....got something in my eye....not going to be looking good. And uh....I'll help finding her too. Besides, she's family too right?"

"Yeah, she's family." Death expressed calmly as he stood up, "Also, when we get back to the others...."

"Don't tell em? Got it."

Death decides to wait until another time to explain the situation with Morgen. Wanting to wait to find out more about how he feels towards her. Wren of course has it in her mind to go hunting through various Hag nests.

Course Death has Despair come to his side and asks Wren, "Do you...want to come along? I know how you are about...being alone and all."

"You'd let me come along?" Wren asks surprised.

"It's the least I can do after essentially burying you alive....so yeah...Besides we've got decent food there." Death states.

"Very well, just let me grab some things from inside." Wren says hurrying to gather some belongings.

She takes the locket and naturally takes her current weapon. Course she also takes the sword that was in Death's back once. Having kept it because it asked her to. She then hurries out, with Death helping her onto Despair's saddle. Once Strife mounts up, they hurry off. Death wanted to ask what she brought, but chose to inquire on it later. When they finally returned, Morgen caught glimpse of them. When noticing Wren on Despair's saddle, she felt a twinge of jealousy coming on. If anyone was around they'd notice her eyes had gained a bit of emerald green alongside the usual amethyst purple.

Barrcus turned the corner and found her looking out the window. Seeing her eye color he asked her, "And who seems to be the holder of your jealous gaze?"

Morgen sighs, "The woman with Death there, she's probably important to him. I'm worried they might be....close."

"And what do you wish me to do, in order to help alleviate those emotions?"

"Nothing. Beyond maybe advice....if you have any council for me." Morgen requests.

"You should probably tell him at some point, about your feelings for him. That way it could give him a way of dealing with how he may be feeling. Or it could give him incentive to figure out what he's feeling. Either way, you'll know and either put your feelings aside or explore them. Just be patient, and don't go that fast. Just take it slow, for both of you."

"Thank you Barrcus. Would you recommend I speak with the woman as well? Maybe to get to know her and prevent resentment?" Morgen suggests.

"That indeed is a wise choice. As long as you keep your emotions in check. Just be the understanding woman I know you are."

"Of course, I'll be mindful of myself. Thank you." Morgen expressed with a sweet hug, which Barrcus reciprocated despite his pain.

#Darksiders Fandom #Darksiders Fanfics #Darksiders OCs #Darksiders Arthurian Tales Revisited #Death #Strife

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