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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years ago

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Cheryl//maple syrup

Request: Can you do the secret and sins when Veronica comments on the Cheryl’s twincest and the reader defends Cheryl even though the reader kinda diss likes Cheryl.

hey! how is everyone? i hope you’re all well and good! i may have slightly cheated a bit and copy and pasted a previously written out bit from another request where they’re playing secrets and sins. but that’s only because i didn’t see the point in writing the same dialogue again. anywayyyy enjoy!

It seems that whenever Cheryl Blossom arrives at a party, the party atmosphere disappears. Maybe it’s her grating personality or overbearing need to be liked, whatever it is, within ten minutes of her and Chuck gate crashing Jughead’s unwanted birthday party, there’s already tension.

Which is not made any better by the suggestion of secrets & sins. Your friends are gathered in a circle in the living room, while you sit off to the side. You want to eavesdrop, but you don’t want to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets, not to your best friends and definitely not to Cheryl.

It’s clear everyone that’s been roped into this stupid game doesn’t want to be there. Betty shifts in her seat uncomfortably and stares at you with pleading eyes. You shoot her an unsure smile back before taking a sip of your drink and she drops your gaze, glancing at Archie before staring down at the floor.

Cheryl is the only one that looks like she’s enjoying herself, but you’re not surprised. Chaos and the chance to get dirt on everyone so she can control them even more than she already does is what Cheryl lives for.

You glare at the red-head, who’s smiling brightly as she looks around at her victims and when her eyes land on you, her eyes narrow and the smile is replaced by a smirk.

“What’s wrong Y/n? Did nobody pick you to be on their team?” She asks, her bright red lips forming a perfect pout and you can’t help but stare at them for a few seconds longer than you should. You feel your face heat up and look away, blaming the alcohol for the affects you’re feeling and refusing to believe that you’ve just thought of Cheryl Blossom as attractive.

A shiver runs up your spine at the thought and you lips pull into a pout as you stare down at the now empty cup in your hands. You scratch at the plastic and listen to the mumbles and whispers of the teenagers stood and sat around you.

Whoever isn’t partaking in Secrets and Sins, have gathered around to watch and judge, and you can’t help but lean in a little closer, they may be some of your closest friends, but you can’t help wanting to know what they’ve been hiding from one another...you’re only human and at least you’re not as bad as Cheryl.

Cheryl lives of rumours. Like Gretchen Wieners with smaller and redder hair.

“What the hell is Secrets and Sins?” Jughead asks, all eyes on Cheryl as she moves around in a circle, eyeing everyone suspiciously as she starts to explain the rules.

“Its a variation on Truth or Dare…in which we own our truths by telling it like it is. I’ll start the game with…Veronica Lodge.” She smirks and you roll your eyes at her.

“Naturally.” Veronica sighs and you pat her shoulder.

“Let’s begin with the day you and your mob wife of a mother came to town for a so-called fresh start.” She says, her eyes filled with accusations and anger before she’s even gotten to her question.

You really don’t know why so many people like her, well you do, it’s because she’s rich and she bullies people into being her friend because she’s unable to make them any other way.

She’s snobby, spoilt and just plain mean, but that doesn’t stop you from sometimes staring at her for longer than you want to and definitely should.

“Tell us Veronica, what’s so fresh about defiling Archie Andrews in a closet?”

“That was your doing.” She replies confused, her arms crossed defensively against her chest.

“Moving on to dear Daddy Lodge…” She interrupts, getting more and more angry by the second. “Isn’t it true that your father, from prison, illegally purchased the drive-in land? Which makes me wonder, what else is he doing behind bars?” She continues and you glance to your side at Joaquin, who shares a very suspicious look with FP

“Well, I can’t speak for my father…but I can think of someone with a very dirty secret. Specifically, Cheryl killing her very own brother.” The tension in the room shifts and your eyes widen.

As much as you dislike Cheryl, you know how close her and Jason were and you knew how much it hurt and how she’s still hurting now because of his death. You’ve seen her crying underneath the bleachers after school, you see how her eyes are a little more dull than they used to be. They don’t sparkle as much when she talks and when she’s not spreading hate, she’s just not saying anything at all.

She smiles less when with her friends, and sometimes you think the only reason she’s horrible to people is so she can feel something. But that doesn’t excuse it and so you shake your head and earn a few confused looks as you try to stop yourself from defending Cheryl Majorie Blossom.

“Everyone knows how much I loved my brother.” Cheryl defends herself.

“Exactly.” Veronica replies. “But did you love him, maybe in ways that a sister shouldn’t love a brother?” She continues and you watch as Cheryl becomes more and more upset. “And as you got older, Jason started to think it was strange, unnatural. So he chose Polly over you. So you shot him between the eyes with one of your father’s many hunting rifles.”

Her shoulders slump a little and her bottom lip quivers as she looks around the room helplessly. The confident look she usually has, has slipped off like a mask, revealing a very sad girl underneath and suddenly you find yourself standing up.

“That’s enough Veronica.” You say, surprising everyone, including Cheryl. “Just leave her alone, it’s not worth it.” You add quietly and slowly sit back down again.

Veronica hold her hands up in defence and you force a smile before going back to picking at the plastic of your cup.

“I don’t need you to defend me.” Cheryl seethes, her eyes full of hatred as she looks at you, and for some reason it stings. You’re used to her not liking you, but her hating you, hurts you for some unknown reason and you have to take a few deep breaths in order to stop the ache in your chest.

“This game is sick.” Dilton adds and Cheryl uses the distraction to wipe away the tears on her cheek. “I wanna go next.” He adds making everyone look at him.

“Thats the spirit, Doiley. What secrets do you have to reveal to us?” Chuck grins.

“I saw Ms. Grundy’s car by Sweetwater River the day Jason went missing.” He says and everyone gasps. People mumble and whisper around you and Cheryl stares straight at Dilton, her eyes narrow. “I told Betty and Jughead, and then Ms. Grundy quit her job and left Riverdale, like, two days later. And let’s not forget that Archie was also at Sweetwater River that morning.”

“Oh, my God.” Cheryl whips her head round to look at Archie. “Colour me shocked. Archie Andrews, is that why you became a mediocre musician overnight? Because you and Ms. Four-Eyes were pulling a Mary Kay Letourneau?”

“Don’t say anything. Don’t get in the gutter with them.” Veronica mutters while glaring at Cheryl.

“Wait, what? Andrews was banging a teacher?” Chuck asks, his tone a mix of surprise and impressed and you roll your eyes at him. “I wish I would’ve known. I would have added you and Ms. Grundy to the book of conquests.”

“Classy, Chuck, as always.”

“Wait a second.” Cheryl interrupts. “That also explains why Archie can’t seem to keep a girlfriend to save his life. He’s got serious mommy issues. Anything to say for yourself Arch? Were you a victim or a perpetrator?”

“Dilton Doiley plays with guns.” Betty tries to change the subject but she’s immediately shut down.

“Big whoop, Betty. So Doiley’s a psychopath. Everyone knows that.”

“Well, I guess it’s my turn now. Boy, do I have a twisted secret to reveal, starring Betty Cooper.”

“Leave her the hell alone, Chuck.” Archie threatens.

“Shut up, Andrews.” He replies. “Look, you may get a free peep show every night, but you do not know her. Hell, Betty doesn’t even know herself. Everybody knows why I got suspended, but what you don’t know...she dressed up like a hooker, in a God-awful black wig, drugged me, handcuffed me in the Jacuzzi, and well, I almost drowned until she got me to say what she wanted to hear. And then she really lost it. She actually thought she was Polly. But, hey, you knew all about this right, Jughead?” He asks. For a second, the question hangs in the air, everyone trying to figure out what to say next and how to process what they’ve just been told.

But then Jughead leaps forward at punches Chuck in face causing all hell to break loose. Everyone stands and FP shoves races forward to grab Chuck and throw him outside.

While everyone else follows them outside, eagerly awaiting a fight, you stay back and watch as Cheryl disappears upstairs, quietly sniffling as she goes. You look at the front door and then at the stairs and sigh, knowing that this is not gonna end well. She’s gonna insult you and tell you to leave her alone, but at least you can say you tried to help and then you won’t feel bad.

So you glance at the door one more time and pray that at least one person is filming whatever is happening out there, before wandering up the stairs in search for Cheryl.

The slight scent of maple syrup and the sound of faint cries coming from the bathroom lets you know where she’s hiding and you quietly creep along the slightly creaky floorboards, trying to remember which ones to avoid after years of practice when sneaking into Archie’s room in order to break him out.

You stop outside of the bathroom, light coming out of the cracks of the door and your hand hovers over the handle.

“Whoever is out there, go away.” She sniffles and you roll your eyes.

Turning on your heel, you start to walk away, but then you hear her sob and it makes you freeze.

You let out a quiet groan and curse the side of you that can’t leave people that are crying alone, before making your way back to the bathroom and slowly opening the door.

The first thing you see as you duck your hear around the door is Cheryl sat on the side of the bath. Her hands gripping the edges so hard that her knuckles have turned white. He hair has fallen in front of her face and you watch as she her shoulder shake and tears drip onto the bath mat.

“Cheryl?” You whisper and she looks up, her eyes wide as she quickly scrambles to wipe away the tears that have ruined her makeup. “Are you okay?” You ask and walk into the room. You close the door behind you and lean against it and her expression hardens.

“I’m having the best time.” She deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God is she stubborn.

“Look, I know we’re not exactly best friends. Most of the time, I don’t really like to be around you-”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” She asks and you shrug.

“But you know that if you need someone to talk to that won’t judge you or really know anything about you, you can. I’ll just sit and listen and you can cry or rant or I dunno. Just, know you’re not alone. You may not get along with everyone in this town, but we will all be here for you if you need us, all you have to do is ask.” You say honestly but anxiously while playing with your fingers.

She looks at you surprised, her lips part as if she’s going to say something and you’re sure she’s going to tell you to shut up and leave her alone, but instead she says thank you and you feel yourself relax a little.

“It’s okay.” You nod. “And for the record, what Veronica said was out of line. Everyone knows how much Jason meant to you and for her to say that is just wrong. We all know you loved your brother...a normal amount.” You add the last bit quietly and she stares at you for a few seconds before a smile twitches at her lips. “Would you like me to leave you alone now?” You ask and she shakes her head. You look around the small bathroom, trying to figure out the best place to sit and she moves along a little so you can sit beside her. “Would you like me to sit with you until you feel better?” You ask and she nods slowly, her lip wobbling again.

You sit beside her, place a gentle hand over hers and the two of you fall into a slightly awkward but not as bad as you thought it would be, silence.

After ten minutes, Cheryl stands and makes her way over to the mirror. She swipes her fingers under her eyes to try and get rid of her ruined mascara before messing with her hair to try and get it back to looking like normal.

“Do I look okay?” She turns to you and stands with her arms by her side. Your breath hitches when you look at her and you wonder how she looks so pretty even in the most unflattering light that is Archie Andrews’ bathroom.

You stand in front of her and slowly tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and you watch as she takes a shaky breath.

“Can I?” You ask, your fingers centimetres away from her cheek and she nods slowly, her eyes locked with yours and you feel yourself growing warm from the intensity. “There.” You smile once you’ve wiped a bit of mascara away from her cheek.

She grabs her bag and pulls her lipstick from it, but when she goes to apply it, her hands shake and you take it from her gently.

Your lips darts out between your tongue as you concentrate on keeping the lipstick in the lines, and you can feel her warm breath on your cheek.

“There!” You smile proudly once your finished, but she grabs your arm before you can pull away properly as her lips connect with yours in an almost frantic kiss.

You gasp a little and then relax and kiss back just as frantically, but she pulls away after a few seconds and the two of you stare at each other wide-eyed and breathless.

“Your lipstick’s ruined.” You whisper and her lips curl into a smile.

“Worth it.” She replies before pulling you close to her and kissing you again.

support my writing! if you want!

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #cheryl #cheryl imagine #cheryl x reader #cheryl x you #cheryl x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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wheresmybuckyhoes · 4 years ago

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The 3 forbidden words

Summary: What does Bucky do when you accidently let slip the 3 words everyone fears to say first in a relationship?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Angst, loss of loved ones, swearing, references to sex, depression, numbness

This is another wonderful ask from @summerdaughter. This is quite an angsty fic, but as promised I ended it with a lot of fluff. Enjoy my lovelies x

*2 years ago*

You let out a satisfied sigh as you finished leafing through the mission briefing, sliding a rusted paper clip onto the thick stack of paper to hold it all together. You tossed it carelessly onto your bed side table, reaching over with a small groan to switch of the night light. You fell back into the warm embrace of your bed, eyes fluttering shut. Finally some rest. Finally you can silence your thoughts and drift off into blissful sleep. Finally you can quieten thoughts that you don’t dare let yourself think of even for second, for fear you will spiral back into the numbness that had consumed you since Thanos... Finally, you can sleep. But almost as soon as relief washes over you, your body tenses up once more and you see their faces in the darkness, eyes snapping open, you almost cry out into the silence.

You always hear people blaming a restless night or two on stress, insomnia or having a lot on their mind. No one ever talks about what losing that which you love can do to a person, when you’re all alone in your bed, accompanied by only the still silence of the empty room you spend most of your time in and your own prison - cell of a mind. It’s then, in the dead of night, that you miss them most. You miss their playful jokes, the way they would laugh with you, the way they would cry with you, the way their touch felt upon your skin. You missed Tony’s stupid inventions he gifted you when you were sad. You missed the feeling of Nat’s careful fingers braiding your hair when you were too tired to do so. You missed feeling like nothing could hurt you ever again when you were in Steve’s arms. For most, when darkness fell like a blanket upon the Earth, it was time to go to sleep. Not you, apparently.

You pushed yourself out from between the blankets, exposed feet making contact with the cool wooden floor. You swept the hair off your neck into a loose ponytail, the slight draft from the open window tickling your nape. You didn’t mind it in the slightest. You cringed at every creak and whinge of the floorboards, knowing you wouldn’t forgive yourself for waking Sam or Peter who both also barley got enough sleep as it is. You mindlessly made your way to the kitchen, lost in thought. You wanted some sort of alcoholic drink, something to dull your senses and numb your body. Maybe you would make some tea and spike it with vodka, or maybe you would just skip the tea and go straight for the vodka. You were surprised to find Bucky pulled up to the bar as you turned the corner, sipping generously on a whiskey, your breath catching as you took in his moon - lit frame. He was wearing grey sweatpants, tied loosely, but evidently he had chosen to wear nothing to cover his toned back which you found oddly calming to watch as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. You tried to match your speed with his, only just now noticing how quickly you had been breathing. He turned around, not a single hint of surprise or shock registering on his face as he beckoned with his head for you to sit beside him. You obliged gratefully, happy to have some company for once.

*one week ago*

‘and Wanda?’ you ask, Doctor Strange’s hologram stood in front of you as you nibbled on some toast. ‘We’re not sure. Last we heard, she had broken into some SWORD facility. I’ll update you if we find anything else’ he replied, giving you a sad smile with a million different meanings behind it. ‘...and how are we dealing with Morgan?’ you asked, voice breaking as you tried not to think about how she has to grow up without a father, just like you did. ‘Pepper is doing just fine with Happy’s help. Don’t worry about her, y/n. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is’, Strange replied sympathetically. You nodded dutifully, thanking him and switching off the device. ‘They’ll find her, y/n. Don’t worry. They have to’ Peter comforted you, patting your shoulder apologetically. He may not have known Wanda for long, but he knew how close you two were, and don’t get me started on how closely he sympathised with Morgan Stark.

Peter soon left after he had downed a few cups of shitty coffee, promising to return in the afternoon. You had seen him try to grab his suit without you noticing, but you decided to leave him be, saying nothing to Sam as he also left to go help out with something in Wakanda. You had been alone for an hour or so at most when Bucky strolled in, humming to himself a song which seemed all too familiar. ‘What’s that song. I know it’ you questioned, patting the couch as Bucky slumped down beside you. ‘I don’t know the name, doll’ he sighed, swinging his arm around the back of your shoulders, in a way that almost seemed like he was sort of shielding you. You always felt safe beside Bucky. You pulled his face against yours, kissing him softly as he cupped your face gently with his metallic fingers. ‘I was worried Spidey boy was going to hog you forever’ Bucky laughed, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip making you giggle. You sighed contently as you melted into his warm embrace, inhaling his heavenly, euphoric scent. Without thinking, the 3 forbidden words poured out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. I love you. Withdrawing his hand abruptly, you noticed Bucky’s eyes widen slightly in a panic, his hands meeting each other in his lap, flesh fingers tracing over metal ones as he always did when he was uncomfortable. ‘...this couch. I love this couch’ you corrected yourself awkwardly, not wanting to make eye contact for fear of tears from your eyes at once, like blood from a wound. Uncontrollable, painful.

But as Bucky laughed nervously, getting up to grab a mug of tea, you bit your lip in deep thought. You had been dating for almost 2 years, now. It was easy, and made sense, finding comfort in each-other after suffering the same loses. It had been going well, even better than well. Great. You had slept together after only a few weeks, finding his touch not only pleasurable, but comforting, almost filling one of the many holes puncturing your heart. You never felt the need to label yourself, confident that Bucky wanted and felt the same as you, reciprocating your love for him. But what if you were wrong?

But if he felt the same as you, why then, was he so scared of saying ‘I love you’ back? You got up, shaking slightly as you walked around the kitchen island to stand in front of him. ‘I love you, Bucky’ you stated, looking him straight in those big blue eyes. Bucky on the other hand suddenly found his cup of tea super interesting, staring at it intently. You shook your head with frustration, taking the cup out of his hand and placing it down harshly on the countertop with a sharp bang, tea spilling over the sides. ‘Why won’t you say it back, Barnes?’.

Bucky almost choked on air as ‘Barnes’ fired from your mouth. Now he knew you were angry, but he didn’t understand. ‘I don’t understand’ he said truthfully, finally finding your eyes with his own. ‘Why do we need to say it out loud when we’re both thinking it anyway?’ he asked you, a look of genuine confusion splayed across his face. ‘That’s what people like us usually do’ you replied, reminding yourself to hold your tongue carefully and not let your bad - temper take over.

‘What do you mean, people like us?’ he continued with his previous style of stupid questioning, and you wondered how someone could be this daft. ‘A couple, Bucky! Boyfriend and girlfriend. People who are dating. Lovers. Partners. Must I continue?’ you replied, losing your patience with him. You had already been through so much pain, did he really need to inflict even more. ‘I told you when we started this thing, doll, I wasn’t ready to date. I had just lost Steve...’ you noticed a slight waver in his voice at the mention of Steve, and you too slightly winced upon hearing the name of your beloved friend who had left you both when you needed him most. At the same time, hearing him call you doll when you were so enraged just ticked you off even more. ‘...and I wasn’t ready to be romantically involved with anyone’ he finished, waiting to see your reaction. If ever there was a time for Bucky to be scared, it was now.

You bit down harshly on your tongue to stop yourself from crying, because you knew once you let the pain in, it would never stop. ‘But it’s been 2 years Bucky. I thought...’ you waved your hand dismissively in the air as if you were waving an actual thought away. ‘So it was just sex to you?’ you finally dared ask, the question almost a punch to Bucky’s gut, causing him to writhe under your burning gaze. ‘No, doll, no it wasn’t just sex I never -‘ he tried to scramble for some sort of logical explanation, but you were hurt beyond belief.

You exhaled humorously, laughing to yourself. ‘You’re the winter soldier, Bucky. Enhanced to live many more years than the average human. You and Steve both. Need I remind you I’m just a weak mortal, like them. Just like Tony, and Nat, and look where they ended up. Dead’ you spoke the last word with such pain and sharpness, it was like you had stabbed Bucky with one of his own knives, and Bucky almost trembled. You forgot he could hear your heartbeat, part of the perks of being ‘enhanced’, as you called it, and your heart was racing faster and faster with every passing moment. All he could do was listen to it race away, and try not to let his own one break.

‘You may still have battles to fight. People to avenge, people to make amends with. But I am so done with this bullshit Bucky. I’ve lost enough to know that I never want to kill another soul again. Thanos was the last. Thanos is the last. I want to settle down. Maybe even start a family one day, I don’t fucking know. I was hoping it could be with you’ Bucky tried to interject but you held up a red tipped finger, silencing him.

‘If your not ready, that’s fine. I’m ok with that. You know why, Barnes? Because I fucking love you, and I’ll never stop loving you, till the end of the line’ your lip quivered with that last sentence, shoving him back and racing to the elevator to escape this place, to escape him. You don’t know how many hours you were gone for, but when you came back, he was gone.

*now*

‘It’s not your fault he’s gone, y/n. Don’t you dare blame yourself, he made his choice’ Sam spoke gently, a solemn, understanding look passing between him and Peter. You plastered a fake smile on your face, one not quite reaching your eyes as you reassured them you weren’t blaming yourself. A lie.

Bucky was gone when you came back the day of your fight, all that was left was a note scrawled in his old-fashioned handwriting. You noticed parts of the ink was slightly smudged in an odd sort of way, like salted tears had fallen upon it. I’m sorry doll. I love you so much, I really do. I’m just so unbelievably scared that if we became serious, I would just end up hurting you, just like I did them. You blinked back tears, realising he was referring to Steve, Nat and Tony. ‘It’s not your fault baby’, you whispered to the empty room.

The ringing of the doorbell stirred you from your thoughts, causing you to jump. ‘Wait here’ Sam commanded you as him and Peter entered the elevator and travelled down to see who was bothering what was left of the avengers. You watched the numbers go all the way from 6 down to 0 as the elevator evidently reached the ground floor.

A few minutes passed. You sat at the kitchen table, sipping gingerly on that shitty coffee you all loved so much before you heard the elevator ding as it slid open to reveal Sam, Peter and Bucky stood inside. It was then that Peter suddenly decided he had to help Sam with ‘stuff’, as the spider boy so poetically and subtly put it. You glared at the boys as they shuffled around in the small elevator, swiftly making a getaway, as Bucky timidly stepped out. You crossed your arms.

‘Back again so soon? Here to hurt your other friends?’ you shot at him, pushing down the feeling of guilt as soon as the words left your mouth. You seemed to have forgotten the words of his note as quickly as you had read them. Bucky walked up to you, nervously to say the least, reaching into his pocket. You raised your eyebrows in confusion awaiting his response, as he took a deep breath.

The look of confusion soon morphed into shock as the super soldier gracefully got down to one knee, pulling out what you recognised with awe to be a ring. ‘I’m so sorry I hurt you doll. Took me a few days to get my shit together, realise Steve would kick me for leaving if he was still here, find the right one (he nodded towards the ring held so carefully in his hands), and I couldn’t let you down again...won’t let you down ever again. I love you more than I could ever put into words and would love nothing more then to be with you...till the end of the line’ You struggled to hold in tears as you hands flew to your mouth, the first real smile of many days growing to cover your face. Your shaky breaths only quickened as Bucky smiled at you like a happy puppy, at last sure of where he wanted to be, and who he wanted to be with.

‘Y/n S/n, will you make me the happiest super soldier alive and...’ Bucky tried to say as he held the ring out to you from beneath you, but a high pitched ‘Yes’ escaped from your mouth muffled by your trembling hands as you nodded, cheeks now glistening with tears. ‘You didn’t let me finish, will you...’

‘Yes’ you stopped him again as his sweet eyes crinkled at the sides from both laughter and frustration, as e stood up and you quickly brushed your lip against his impatiently.

‘Marry me, doll’ he finished, as he slid the ring perfectly onto your finger, diamond sparkling in the sunlight as you heard a small squeal from the direction of the elevator followed by the sound of a man elbowing a teenage boy playfully in the ribs. Before he could get another word out, you pulled Bucky in by the collar of his tight leather jacket with one arm ripped off, kissing him deeply, pouring in all your love and affection. You pulled back, reaching for his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom, away from a few certain someones prying eyes.

‘I thought this relationship wasn’t about sex?’ the handsome motherfucker grinned. ‘Oh so you don’t want to fuck me then, Barnes?’ Oh, now he was in trouble. ‘I never said that...’ he replied smugly, tossing you over his shoulder bringing you both to your room, onto the bed and under the covers.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes one shot #falcon #peter parker #spiderman #bucky barnes fluff #avengers fanfiction #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #wandavision #the winter soldier

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counterpunches · 4 years ago

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End (Beginning Movement)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jaime Taylor Rating: T Wordcount: 4,137 Note: all the thanks to the incredible @foomatic for being a fantastic beta and even better friend. so much so that she actual recorded herself reading the story to help ID and fix all the tenses to make it coherent and then just straight up turned it into a podfic set to the show's musical score. Its way cooler than I ever thought it'd be, so feel free to please check it out here

Summary: If standing silently and bearing witness was all Jamie could do, she gladly took the weight of it if it meant one less thing for Dani to carry. Jamie coiled it tight back into herself and created her own waiting, lurking beast. Jamie was quiet with her rage for a while, until she was shaking with it. Until it threatened to explode out of her skin like a bomb and she wouldn’t ever - ever - let Dani come close to the shrapnel. Instead she was the steady rock that Dani needed and imploded later, somewhere else, somewhere safe. She just wanted to fucking break something. Couldn’t get her hands on the Lady, couldn’t pull her out of Dani, so she had to find the next best thing.

Also on AO3

It was easy, Jamie thought, as her head pounded and temple throbbed.

Well, not so much now, at this moment, with a hangover thundering out a pulse on the timpani of her skull as she clung to the toilet like a lover in the night. Every joint and muscle aches, a combination of sleeping half slumped over in the bathroom, age, and the consequences of booze. She leans back with a groan, back twinging, shoulders popping, and as nausea roils, takes a few deep breaths to settle her stomach. Evidently spending the rest of last night praying to the porcelain god didn’t buy her any grace today.

But in general, it was easier, spending the night chasing the bottom of a pint glass, in a way nothing else was these days. Christ, even breathing was hard. Been hard since the day her lungs fought for surface despite her best intentions. Been burning with it, since, taking in air in a world that Dani Clayton no longer existed in.

The water refused to take her, so she’d found another way to drown.

So yeah. It was easy, sliding into bad habits like an forgotten favorite jacket. A glass of wine became a bottle. What was one or two nights to forget against a million more? A bottle quickly became too slow. Why waste time, Jamie thought, chasing one cup after another? Best to jump straight to the hard stuff, then.

Jamie never beat around the bush before, seemed no point in starting now, her bluntness having been softened over the years by Dani’s love. The very edges of her ebbed into the waters of an ocean that was no longer there. Jamie was parched. She was so thirsty. So she drank.

Wrong kind of love can fuck you up. Right one can, too.

Just as bad, really.

Worse, if you’re lucky.

Love and possession may be opposites, but Jamie had given her heart away a long time ago and she didn’t know how to keep it beating when it was no longer hers. Everything she was had already been given over to Dani. Given eagerly. Freely. Like all things best loved are. And that’s the thing about a freed thing, isn’t it? Doesn't come back just because you want it to. Just because you miss it.

This part of her - it isn’t peaceful, Dani had said. And Jamie had understood.

Understood in blood and bone, in the way something so small and insignificant can snap. Remembers how rage can end with kneeling in a rain-soaked alleyway, groaning from an ass kicking she probably deserved, probably was searching for, blood trickling down from a split eyebrow. Remembered how she grimaced, the twinge in her ribs matching the bitter taste of metal in her mouth, but it’d hurt and there was a sick measure of comfort in that; making part of the world match the brokenness inside her.

So yeah. She knew rage. Recognized it. Hated that something so ugly and angry and raw resided inside of Dani, something that couldn’t possibly exist naturally - there wasn’t an atom of that kind of violence in Dani’s body. She wouldn’t give into the wrath, Jamie knew even then, in the cradle of knowing her. Dani would never. And the unfairness of her having to suffer through the struggle of it anyway made the part of Jamie that resonated in recognition with Viola burn.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us, the rage said, taunting her through the fissures of Dani’s struggle.

It was all she could do to hold it in that day, her teeth cracking under the weight of it, in the horrible quiet of the room as Dani confessed. As she gave voice to the terrible truth that now resided in her. She’s waiting, Dani had whispered. If standing silently and bearing witness was all Jamie could do, she gladly took the weight of it if it meant one less thing for Dani to carry. Jamie coiled it tight back into herself and created her own waiting, lurking beast.

And Jamie knew from past experience that the only way to control the beast was to let it out of captivity from time to time. To let the monster run wild and exhaust itself so she could wrestle it back into the cage.

The rage festered. Jamie felt it rumbling deep in her chest.

So when Dani finally left the room with a shaky determination (“Better find out what those kids are getting up to,"), Jamie knew she had to let it breathe.

No one would remember where the dent in the wall came from. It was chalked up as an accident, caused by one of the many pieces of furniture having knocked into things on its way out to the moving truck. Jamie had to hold in the scream that broiled inside and searched for a safer place for it to land.

She still had to walk by that fucking lake to get to the greenhouse.

Under cover of the potted sanctum, Jamie let loose the beast. Anger clawed, scratching out her throat. The greenhouse was excellent at absorbing sound, plants and leaves shaking with the echoes of her cries, and if Jamie’s voice seemed a little hoarse, it was easy enough to blame it on something else. Easy enough, to explain away her split knuckles on mis-gauging the distance while bringing one of the heavier boxes outside. Or scraping it against some gravel. Or anything other than slamming her fist into the wall again and again and again.

It was new though, needing to find ways to hide it from Dani. Never had to hide it from anyone before. She used to display her beast proudly, a mark of pride that said ‘don’t fuck with us.’ Didn’t have to hide her beast in prison, either. Everyone had one of their own; it was why they’d all ended up there in the first place. More than a few learned how to deal with it in therapy. Jamie tamed hers in the jungle of a garden.

Not a single part of her looked in the rear view mirror as they drove away. Would never have stopped the truck if it could’ve kept Dani safe. So she did what little she could do. All the fear, the terror that already threatened to split Dani further in two, the new shell of a person Dani had to live with, Jamie took it from her. Buried it deep within herself, felt it so that Dani wouldn’t have to. Drew out the poison from Dani’s soil and into her own roots.

And then, in her most private moments - few and far between, really, for there was nothing unshared between them - Jamie let out the venom, the resentment, the fury, that she collected. Outrage that the world dared spin, indifferent to the unfairness of it all.

She just wanted to fucking break something. Couldn’t get her hands on the Lady, couldn’t pull her out of Dani, so she had to find the next best thing.

Viola was quiet in her rage. Jamie wasn’t with hers. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She was, for a while, at least.

That first year was full of small moments: the way Dani’s shoulders would never fully relax, tension rarely leaving her body, even in sleep. How she kept looking over her shoulder at rest stops and gas stations, as if the Lady were a drifter, following them on the highways, across states, through the unfolding ribbon of their adventure. Jamie found she could cover up those incidents with the smug satisfaction of having bested the unavoidable for another day. Another week. Another month.

Her demon was dormant for a good long while, in the solace of Dani’s love. Dormant like Viola’s fucking ghost, it turned out. Things were so good for so long, it almost seemed to purr, content in it’s hibernation.

Jamie’s beast woke with a sudden and curious start, after that night in the kitchen after Paris. Started to sniff, hungry for any little scrap. Found too many for comfort - the way Dani started to wake up earlier, as if perhaps she hadn’t slept at all; how it would take her just a moment longer to turn off the water; the times Jamie had to repeat Dani’s name until she jerked, as if suddenly finding herself transported somewhere new - it began pacing in its cage, hungry now, banging on the bars.

Jamie was quiet with her rage for a while, until she was shaking with it. Until it threatened to explode out of her skin like a bomb and she wouldn’t ever - ever - let Dani come close to the shrapnel. Instead she was the steady rock that Dani needed and imploded later, somewhere else, somewhere safe.

She could see how close to the edge Dani was, on some days. How it seemed even the barest breeze would blow her from herself entirely, leaving an empty, unblinking husk behind. It was all Jamie could do to steer her back from the cliff each time.

Jamie had to coax Dani back to the world, breathe life into her lips some mornings as she stared into the ceiling, eyes open and blank; her very own Sleeping Beauty. Each time it felt like a kiss goodbye. Stay with me. Please. Come back to me. A miracle, when she did, even if Dani slipped further and further away each time like a boat on the horizon. Jamie would stroke her face with trembling hands, afraid even the gentlest touch would cause the delicate thing to disintegrate beneath the pads of her fingers.

Dani always came first. Even as Jamie’s own creature grew stronger and louder, she held it in. Found controlled environments to let it run wild.

There was something oddly comforting about the alleyway. There’s a familiar landscape all back alleys share - brick, concrete, dumpster, a car or two, usually a fair amount of scattered garbage, and the near ubiquitous empty, overturned storage crates used by the weary for smoke breaks or breakdowns of all shapes and sizes - an alley was an alley was an alley.

The only thing that marked it as theirs was a few hanging ferns on the corner of the doorway. Something to signal the threshold, announce the life bursting and growing just inside. Something growing in the barren landscape of a back alley. Something to remind a younger Jamie of what could lie on the other side, if she stood long enough to reach up for it.

So she destroyed things in the alleyway. When the cruelty of the matter absolutely broke her - when Jamie had to sew the fraying pieces of Dani back together because Viola was slowly pulling the seams of her apart; when she desperately scooped handfuls of Dani even as she was slipping through her fingers like sand - Jamie would break something else.

Jamie took her rage, and smashed it against the brick or asphalt in a shower of pottery in the alleyway. Pots, planters, saucers, she grabbed damaged items from the shop and broke them even further, until her chest heaved and panted from the effort of it in the shards under her feet. When the alley wasn’t a possibility and her screams of frustration and the clatter of smashing ceramic would would threaten to draw Dani out from the thinning fragility of their life together, Jamie would punch bags of soil in the storage room until the they burst, earth pouring to the floor, and leaving her standing in a shallow grave of her own making.

Nothing to hide, once Dani is gone.

Easier to get lost in the anger, and Jamie let it consume her like an uncontrolled blaze until nothing but ash remained. Fitting, she thought, for the daughter of a coal miner. It came to claim her, pulling her into itself, not to grow, not to nourish, but to press her into something that burned. And oh, she burned.

It would scare her, she thought, that she hadn’t changed. In all this time, in all these years, underneath the layers of soil and earth, below the roots, the same creature lurked in the dirt of Jamie’s own jungle. A monster that threatened to take her too. That she wished would. A demon of wrath and anger. Of pain and suffering and the shit end of the stick every time.

Despite the years, despite the love and relative calm that settled over her life - since gardening, since Dani - she was still the same enraged, lost, thing. Every living thing comes from every dying thing and it’s natural and she knows that but what she didn’t understand is how to keep living when the core of you is already dead; how was it possible for these two things to co-exist at once. The impossibility of the thing. The decaying mortality. This unholy living. Feels unnatural.

Jamie couldn’t breathe. She couldn't, she couldn’t-

And there, there it was. Specks of dried toothpaste on the mirror. It shouldn’t have been the thing to undo her. After all, it could’ve been hers or Dani’s. But it could have been. Dani’s. Such a casual, mundane thing - a flick of the wrist, rinsing off the toothbrush, spitting into the drain - leaving behind a stain. A mark. Something to be thoughtlessly wiped off and cleaned later, leaving no sign it had once been there. No indication someone had been there at all. No impression of a life built together, their hips casually leaning against one another while flossing, or the yelp of surprise at the shock of cold water after flushing the toilet while the other is in the shower. The apology that came after, sliding through the shower curtain to make it up to them, a tongue sliding into the folds of their ear, hands slipping down to the folds of thighs, into slicks of wet and warm. The absolute mess on the floor afterwards of errant water sloshing out the tub.

The tub.

The floor.

The water that had taken them both. The water that refused to take Jamie.

Not the water, she corrected. Dani. Dani, who refused to take Jamie along on one last adventure. Do you want company? She had asked, all those years ago. Can I walk by your side? Will you take me with you?

And there it was - her beast - clawing up her spine, smashing with a roar into the mocking mirror pane. Again she roared, again she cried, until a dozen fractured shards were all that was left of the toothpaste, left of Jamie’s broken heart, all that was left of Dani. Again and again she struck the mirror until the pain from her bleeding knuckles pulled her out of it and she sank, depleted, sobbing on the floor.

So she drank.

And got into more than a few fights while she was at it. Needed a better opponent than flower pots and dirt, though - she’d already destroyed a decent part of the shop. She needed something to twist her fists into, something that would punch back, something that would make her hurt.

When she drove home, she’d try to ignore the voice in her head that sounded so much like Dani (“You could kill somebody, Jamie. Jesus!”) she almost veered off the road looking at the passenger’s side.

Left the fucking mirror in the bathroom where it was, a broken and half empty self-portrait. Tossed the glass in the bin and swept it away where the edges of a life that no longer existed wouldn’t cut her. Pleased there was nothing to look at getting ready in the mornings, nothing to catch her eye stepping out of the shower, nothing to reflect. Nothing to look at. Nothing at all.

And so it stayed as the weeks wore on. The medicine cabinet pulled open for badly needed aspirin after a particularly rough night or tougher morning, band-aids for the cuts on her knuckles, no mirror on the outside to mock the bruises on her cheek or the split eyebrow from what might have been a night of bad choices but were the only ones that seem to make sense anymore.

The only thing that helped ease the ever-throbbing, dull ache from every corner of her heart was to press the hurt. A walking bruise, Jamie desperately sought solace to cauterize the bleeding wound of loss.

The less Jamie had to look herself in the eye for it, the better.

Which left her here: waking up on the bathroom floor, slouched over the toilet, curls of hair plastered on her cheek from a substance she can only assume to be last night’s dried vomit.

Left here, on the bathroom floor, as empty and hollow as Dani had been in what turned out to be her final few days.

Left here, left behind.

If Jamie squints, she can almost see the glimmer of Dani, twinkling like fairy lights on the tile.

But the longer Jamie sits there, legs growing numb from her cramped position, the sparkle doesn’t go away. Matter of fact, it starts to get annoying. She swats at it, trying to suffer her grief and hangover in peace.

She pulls her hand back with a hiss. The light has an edge to it. It bites.

A piece of the shattered mirror. Must’ve been there for weeks now, having fallen behind the toilet, forgotten. Jamie holds it carefully, staring at the broken reflection of her face for a long time. Stares until it stares back. Until the beast, she realizes finally, the one who has stalked her her whole life, has quietly slinked away. She listens for it - the telltale heat of it simmering just under her skin. But she doesn’t feel anything.

The unfairness of it all remains. But there’s something else in the emptiness, she realizes.

Dani.

There’s a chance - far fucking fetched, she knows - but a chance that maybe, just maybe, the emptiness will stare back. And it will look like someone she loved. Loves, she corrects. Loving Dani will always be in the present. Jamie, crumpled on the floor, bleeding from an aching heart, will always be surrounded by the ghost of Dani. Haunted by a life built and shared and grown. A life taken. Cut short. A leafling, snipped from the vine at the most beautiful stage of maturation. Haunted, sure. But not alone. Something to be said for the chance that Dani will appear.

Jamie will be haunted by Dani for the rest of her days regardless, she knows, phantom or no. Might as well wait, Jamie thinks wryly, got a lot to tell her off for.

She spent more than a few years living with ghosts, anyway. Only difference is, this time she’ll be aware of it. Besides, no one else she’d rather be haunted by. It was Dani forever. Said as much herself that day in the shop. I’ve got a problem, Poppins. Dani would always be it for her. And some problems can’t be fixed. Can only sit and learn to live with them like old friends.

So Jamie scrapes herself off the floor. She shuffles to the kitchen to grab the broom and sweeps the broken pieces of the last few broken months into the bin, cautious of the edges this time.

She gets dressed. Puts away the bottles. Collects the half-eaten take out containers and napkins that litter the apartment. Takes out the trash. Waters the plants. Prunes the dead leaves. Repots herself and let her roots overcome the shock of replanting, remembering the work of living.

Drives to the hardware store and buys a replacement panel for the bathroom. Mounts it in the frame, reverently touching the mirror’s edges. Because if there’s a chance, even a single chance - weeks, months, years from now - that Jamie’s personal ghost will come back to haunt her, she doesn’t want to miss a second of it. Doesn’t want to risk being too drunk, face down in a toilet somewhere, too angry to remember seeing Dani’s face. Doesn’t want Dani seeing that.

Doesn’t want it all to be for nothing, hiding her secret beast for all those years. Having worked so hard to make sure Dani never saw that part of her, the one who went wild and feral, hissing and clawing at the world and it’s indifference. Never wanted to let her beast get close to Dani, close enough to scratch. Not Dani, who struggled so hard to keep tame her own demons.

She’d be a rather shit wife if she started now. Just because Dani was gone doesn’t mean Dani wouldn’t see.

Doesn’t mean it’s easy though, either. It’s hard. Hardest fucking thing she’s ever done, since pulling herself out of that lake when all she had wanted to do was drown in it. That wasn’t difficult, that was instinct. This will be a choice. Every day, for the rest of her life, will be a choice. One she has to make again and again.

Jamie longingly traces the pair of earrings lazily forgotten, left out on top of the dresser, in a bygone act of normalcy to be left now in memoriam, and pulls out one of Dani’s favorite shirts from the drawer, that awful slinky pink one that snagged on every last thorn and branch in the shop. Pretty in love with you, it turns out. Inhaled. Breathed in every last atom of Dani until her lungs were trembling with her. She slid the shirt on like armor and prayed the delicate fabric would be strong enough to help withstand the weight of the world ahead.

She took a few steps to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and did battle with the first night of the rest of her life. Let the sink fill, stared at the water, and took a deep breath.

It took years for Dani to see the Lady. They were grateful for it then - relieved, actually, that they managed to get so much time. But now, all Jamie wants is for the haunting to come quickly. Do you want company?

For a long time, all Jamie Taylor wanted to do was forget. Forget Lancashire, forget the taunts, the sound of banging, of Louise’s girlish flirting, Mikey’s crying. Forget the whirl of sirens, the creak of a door opening in the dead of night, a weight dipping on the bed next to her. Forget London, forget prison, forget her, forget all of it. Forget Bly, forget the Lady, forget Viola was ever a dark spot to stain the bright garden of their life. She drank thirstily, fought desperately, all to forget the pain, forget that Dani was gone, was never coming back, and that she doesn’t remember how to be Jamie without Dani by her side.

Except now, she realized, on the off-chance Dani’s face would stare back in the mirror or from beneath the water, she wanted to see every last line, every curve of her face. If that meant suffering the empty, aching, endless days to do so, then so be it.

It’s you. It’s me. It’s us, she’d screamed to the Lady, to the hatred inside both of them, the fury that stormed stronger than death.

But after the flames expunge and the coals cool, Jamie remembers now, there’s more than just rage in the quiet parts. There’s patience. Love. Kindness. That things grow with just a little bit of water. A little, instead of all at once.

Water can give life, not just take it away.

It was easy to forget that small truth when the waves crashed and swept her below, unable to gain footing before another came crashing down and pulled her under. She did it once, on her own, in her youth and loneliness. She can learn how to do it again; to exist in stillness and quiet without Dani. A little, instead of all at once.

She lets loving Dani warm instead of burn. Like a comforting hearth beckoning the weary home.

She ran her fingers along the cool porcelain of the sink, reverently, as if it were Dani’s skin she was touching; Dani’s face she was caressing; Dani, she was loving.

Jamie takes a deep, shuddering breath, and looks up. Squares her shoulders, baring all of herself to the mirror, forces herself to look.

She’ll wait forever if she has to.

But first, just one night.

Beautiful things worth loving and tending to can bloom at night; under the blanket of darkness, there’s still life. And if she keeps pouring all her love and effort into it, maybe one day it’ll all make sense. She can see where it goes.

#damie #thobm #The Haunting of Bly Manor #dani x jamie #dani clayton x jamie taylor #my fanfic #april's the best everyone go thank her for hammering this into sense

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wing-ed-thing · 4 years ago

Text

Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter VI)

Synopsis: You can't stand Might Guy. Honestly, how could anyone be so boisterously unaware and sickeningly positive? Your heart sinks as the both of you are teamed up to infiltrate and collect information from the Hidden Sound's gritty nightlife. Maybe losing yourselves in the dark of the underground will help you both come to an understanding.

Word Count: 2,251

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI

Warnings: Minor Sexual Assault (you are kissed without permission), adult themes, alcohol, fowl language

You were at the club early the following day. You sat down at the bar with a deep exhale. Guy hadn’t arrived but the girls helped themselves to what was behind the counter. You couldn’t choose between water or hair of the dog. You opted for both.

The hangover wasn’t the only factor worsening your exhaustion. Chiasa had just helped you finish hanging up your gowns. One gown on its own didn’t yield much weight, but you severely underestimated how heavy multiple evening gowns became when jutsu wasn’t used to store them. Your headache from your first night on the job pounded in your ears. You were just about done downing your third glass of water when you heard a man clear his throat.

You turned on the stool, seeing the Sound ninja from last night. He wore his uniform still… and still looked the slightest bit like Might Guy. You blinked rapidly, trying to physically banish the comparison from your head. His bangs framed his hitai-ate. The eighth note on his forehead shone under the lowlights of the club.

“Oh, hello.” You greeted him weakly.

“Accompany me for a walk.” His demanding words carried a passive tone. It was not a question. You looked over to one of the other hostesses. She did not look back, but her side eye told you that you better leave with the ninja before you.

You removed your gloves and placed them on the counter before following the man out of the building. It was that time again. The sun just began to set on the Sound. You didn’t know what it was, but the sunsets appeared different in the Hidden Sound. Equally beautiful, but different. The air smelled like the ocean.

You walked with the ninja. The sandy gravel of the path crunched under your heels.

You noted his sports gloves and the hole open on the back, exposing the skin of his hand. Another patch lay exposed between his ear and his scarf. You took in the many cuts and scrapes on his arms, honing in on four puncture wounds. His face remained unobscured. You remembered his high cheekbones from the night before. You remembered his lean frame. You remembered his bangs, his almond shaped eyes and thin lips.

“I would like to take you on a date.” The ninja told you. “You will be compensated for your time and the meal. I already worked it out with the woman known as Mama-san. I’ve taken a liking to you and you will be ready for me here tomorrow before you work at six. Then, you will sit with me for a drink. This conversation is a courtesy, of course.”

You felt an unpleasant pang in your chest. Objectification. Subhumanity. The sheer fact that he thought that he was doing you a favor to tell you before buying you was enough to lose your temper where you stood, but you shut your mouth. You had no choice but to accept, but that did not mean you wouldn’t seethe silently the whole way back to “HEAVEN”.

“Marigolds keep snakes away.” You told him when you got back.

“What?”

“The snake bites on your arms. Marigolds.”

***

“It’s called dohan,” Chiara explained when you told her later. “You’re very lucky!” She told you, lips puckered and eyes bright. Lucky. “You get extra money for dohan! You just got yourself a regular, Yume-san!” In her excitement, she nearly tripped. You caught the tray of empty champagne flutes from the table you just cleared. You exited the kitchen when another hostess approached the two of you.

“There’s a request for Yume-san at table fifteen.”

“Okay! We’ll be out in a moment!” Chiara chirped.

“Just Yume-san.”

“Just Yume-san?” Chiara questioned. The hostess nodded. She perked up. “It might be that guy you told me about! From earlier! You’re doing such a great job, I can’t believe you already have regulars!” You frowned, less than happy at such a prospect.

Your two coworkers sent you out with a tray with a scotch and a martini.

“I’ll take a scotch and whatever it is that the lady wants.” Your new client apparently said.

You sauntered past the bar to your assigned table in the upper left corner of the club. A hostess performed on stage and her gorgeous melodies flowed throughout the area. She shook her hips, making explicit gestures as she ran her hands down her body. Another hostess accompanied her on the piano. Another few played various brass instruments. You would have to ask Chiasa about that later.

You caught sight of your client. You nearly stopped in your tracks. Seeing his full face now, your mind flashed back to the Leaf’s bingo book, but you pressed on as to not alarm the wanted man. He lounged in the booth like a prince upon a throne. He lazily swirled around the ice in his drink. His hitai-ate restrained his overflowing silver locks. When he noticed you approaching, he made no effort to adjust his posture.

You placed the tray on the table in front of him. You pushed down the heat rising to your skin and picked up your martini. You handed him his scotch, mentally picturing him in cuffs on his way to prison. He gave you a silent nod of acknowledgement as you sat down next to him. His arm immediately came to rest around your shoulders. His circular glasses caught the light from the lamp above.

“Hiya… Handsome, how are we doing today?” The words were still clunky as they rolled off your tongue despite your day of experience.

“Just fine, thank you,” He took a sip of his drink and put it back down on the table. His eyes narrowed and a wide smirk encompassed his lips. The hand around your shoulder played with your hair. The ninja leaned down, two fingers under your chin. His cold touch on your skin coursed through you. You fought off the urge to recoil. He breathed, “You can call me Yakushi-sama, Beautiful.”

The hand in your hair came to pin your shoulder back against the booth. The shock of his touch encompassed your system, pounding in your head. He leaned down to place a kiss on your lips. You mentally shattered. You felt dizzy, your senses overloaded by his shifty spirit. He came crashing into your mind. You felt arrogance. Snark. Devotion. Loss. Need. Hunger.

Clients weren’t supposed to touch you. You weakly pushed him off you, bowing your head away before the exchange, leaving the overload of sensations erupt in your core.

When you looked into his round frames, you could have sworn he looked through you. You felt on display. You took a deep intake, the sharp frost dissipating into a balanced equilibrium.

“Of course, Yakushi-sama.” He looked amused at your reaction and reached back for his drink. Your smile faltered as he did so. The room may as well have been spinning. You gripped your glass, the sensation of the smooth glass under your fingertips grounding you to reality. “I’m honored that you chose me for your company tonight.”

“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you, Yume-chan.” You eyed him and tried to ignite a semblance of fire within you. Guy’s words echoed in your head. Prepare yourself, watch your back. But you found yourself unmotivated and failing. “And I must say that I am disappointed.”

Kabuto finished his drink. The cubes of ice clinked as he once again rested the glass on the table. He took out his wallet, fishing out a few ryō before he stood. The ryō were placed on the tray. And he left you alone to down your martini.

***

You stumbled into your studio apartment, wasted but sobering up. You were beginning to build up a tolerance, but that process was ever slow. You flung your heels off and tossed your gloves on the bed. You trudged to the bathroom, taking soaked rag to the glue of your wig. The lace peeled from your skin inch by inch.

You took a large bottle of mouthwash out from under the counter. Swirl, gargle, repeat. Swirl, gargle, repeat. The bottle stood half empty by the time you slammed your cup down for the last time.

You leaned, a hand on the counter. You looked up into the mirror. Your makeup smeared around your eyes and wig gel flaked at your hairline. The bags under your eyes stood out more prominently without concealer. You stripped out of your gown, hanging it up on the hook on the door.

The steam from the shower began to clear your head as you washed your hair out. But even under the hot water, you felt grimy. You scrubbed at your skin, trying to wash away the unwanted touches from the club. You pushed the loofah into your skin, but the sensation still remained. You turned the heat up before returning to lather the loofah in soap once more. You returned to roughly scoured your skin as the water scorched your back. But once again, the feeling of hands remained. You kept trying and trying and trying until your skin became red from both the heat and the friction. You could still sense them: each and every client. Their spirits etched themselves in you with every grope. Every moment of bitter exchange and unpleasant balance. The ninja from the bingo book flashed across your memories. You let out a bitter cry, throwing the loofah down. Your head met your hands as you sat, crouched, crying.

Guy had sat on your couch once again when you came out of the bathroom. You wrapped a towel around your hair. You balanced the weight as you finished buttoning up your night shirt. You sat down next to him. He did not bring beer this time.

“Rough few nights?” Guy threw on his usual jovial smile. You curled up into the couch.

““I have some things to tell you about the mission but… give me a second, okay?” That was all you said. He sat with you silently and patiently. A clock somewhere in the room ticked on. You took a deep inhale, your voice a whisper, “We need to get into that back room.”

“And we will!” Guy was overdoing it. A beat. A pause. Your features didn’t change. His voice became low, “You don’t have to go with him tomorrow.” You felt the sting of tears gathering in your ducts. You weren’t sure why you were crying.

“Yes I do.” You blinked, tears streaming down your face. You wiped them away with your sleeve. “That’s not it…” Guy cleared his throat.

“Well, I don’t think you should go.” Guy promptly put. You shook your head at him, brow furrowing farther in sadness.

“Don’t-... Guy, don’t-...” Your hand wove itself in your hair as you clenched your eyes shut. “I told you it’s not about that.”

“It would be hard for me to spot you. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be there, but it’s harder to follow you away from the club-” He began to get lost in himself.

“Guy please! I don’t know if I can do this!” His eyes met your tired puffy ones. “I know it’s not a big deal. I know I shouldn’t be bothered.” You let out a huff of a laugh as tears streamed down your cheeks. “But fuck… I hate that I’m so worked up over this.”

“What is it?”

“My kekkei genkai,” You took a breath in an attempt to slow your breathing. “Sure, I can connect myself to others. If I can get my hands on someone’s face I’m golden, you know?” You kicked a leg out. The coffee table tumbled across the floor and you cried. “But that’s when I can get information and be done. That’s when I’m in control! I can’t turn it off! I feel it all day, every touch from men and their slimy spirits.” You scrunched your nose in bitterness. “We better find what we’re looking for soon.”

“And we will.” You gripped onto a pillow, screaming into it.

“ I can see shit I wish I didn’t, hear the things they want to do to me, to other women and I can’t do shit about it! Fucking pathetic!” You melted into the cushions around you. “I don’t know how much more I can handle and it’s only been two days! I-I... was the wrong choice for this.”

Your features contorted themselves in pain, in hurt. The way of the ninja always was gender neutral. It didn’t matter if you were a man or a woman or anything in between, your duty to your team remained your duty to your team. You were always a confident kunoichi or at least you thought so. The fury buried itself in your chest. You didn’t understand. You did not understand what this mission was doing to you and you didn’t like it one bit. Unable to escape, you felt it burn you from the inside out. For you were no longer a capable kunoichi, but a doll to be ordered off a menu.

“Please, talk about anything else.” You pleaded at this point. Guy’s features softened.

“Anything else, huh?” He pursed his lips. He tried to replicate the usual brightness in his eyes. You appreciated the attempt. “Well, let me tell ya’! Mine and Kakashi’s last rivalry challenge was truly one for the record books! It was a barbecue eating contest and I’m convinced that he cheated!” Guy continued on with gusto as tears fell from your eyes. “We’re seven pieces of flank steak in and all of the sudden he’s tellin’ me he has to go to the bathroom-”

You softly take his hand into yours.

A wave overtook you. You felt it again. Warm. Kind. You let his spirit swirl in your core and you exhaled thankfulness. Guy sat with you silent now like a foreigner in a sacred temple. You knew he felt it too.

“Please continue.” You whispered. Your thumb traced his knuckles. “I think I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“Ah… right! So it’s neck and neck, we both have two more plates to go…”

You basked in his comfy spirit, watching the glow in his eyes that was just for you. The sensations from the club slowly began to fade away and not once did Might Guy falter.

You know, I was watching Spirited Away when editing this. I want to like it, I really do. I love Studio Ghibli, but dear lord, did they have to make Chihiro scream all her lines? Like the animation and story is gorgeous but jeez so much yelling.

Aaaaanyway enjoy!

#might guy #might guy x reader #might guy relationship #Maito Gai #maito gai x reader #maito guy #Maito guy relationship #cabaret #x you #reader insert #x reader #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagine #naruto imagines

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blueberrypossum · 4 years ago

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A Colorful Massacre Mickey x Reader

Hey guys!!! Yup, it’s Mickey’s turn to be placed in the love boat. This story is going to be a little different than my previous ones( sorry no making out and such). This story is based on one of the scenes from the movie Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey. I really like the action scenes, especially where Harley goes into the police station and I thought it would be a perfect fit( some scenes will be altered and so will dialogue). Hope you guys enjoy it! Also, I might’ve made the reader a little bit crazy, I try to change up the personalities with each reader to give each writing a difference.

Word Vocabulary:

(F/C)- Favorite color (these will be labeled 1 and 2 because you’ll need two signature colors, like Harley Quinn with red and blue)

(L/N)- Last name

⚠️WARNING⚠️: There are some cuss words and graphic content (such as fight scenes, gore, and even death.)

You rechecked the location on your phone before you headed over to one the many police stations in the Hidden City, your hands checking to make sure you had everything. Of course the Mud Dogz had to get caught on their last heist, their faces being plastered all over the city in the announcement of their capture. You huffed in a gust of air as the annoyance almost gave you a headache.

Of course those idiots had to get caught on your week off.

They all crossed your mind in a series of flashes, the picture of Mickey instantly stopping and staining your eyes. The eel somehow wrapped his long body around your heart, literally, if he could he would. You never thought you would go for the hippie type, but hey, in your opinion it was the best option.

You strapped your gloves on tighter as you finally made it to the police station they were being held at, the enormous building almost touching the dirt surface. Police officers walked around you as you made your way to the front door, not even taking notice of you or your long coat that covered you. You brushed your hand through your hair and waved your fingers at a passing guard, who couldn’t help but stare as you burst yourself through the front doors.

You were always the one to make a grand entrance.

The waiting area was almost completely empty, except for one yokai in one of the waiting chairs and the police officer behind the counter.

Oh this is too easy.

You casually walked over to the yokai that was sitting; a young woman who was casually reading a newspaper. She eyes you as you get closer and how lazily bent over, your lips barely hovering over her ear as you whisper unholy nothings into her ear. The woman slowly got up, terror crossing through her face as she left her newspaper and made her way out of the station. You waved goodbye to her and headed towards the cop at the front counter, the officer instantly took notice of your choice of outfit.

Even with the male officer seeing you coming, you rang the bell next to him anyways, giving him a bright smile as he looked up.

He let out a long sigh as he questioned, “Can I help you?”

You leaned your elbows onto the counter as you stated, “Yes, good ol’ officer, I’m here to report terrible crime.” You tipped your sunglasses down to show the sarcastic wink you gave him.

The officer took the wink as some kind of joke and relaxed his shoulders and leaned back in his chair.

“And what terrible crime is that?”

And with that you pulled your long coat back, revealing the multiple canisters of paint, confetti, hacky sacks, and smoke bombs strapped against your chest, along with a shotgun to use those canisters as ammo. You stripped yourself of your sunglasses as you pulled your shotgun off of your shoulder.

You aimed it at him as you stated, “This one.”

The male yokai quickly went for his gun, but you were just a little faster; you shot a red hacky sack right between his eyes, not only knocking him back but also breaking his glasses.

As he went slack against the wall, you took your coat off to give you more room to work as you rounded off to the side, letting yourself through the ringing metal detector.

“Alright, now let’s have some fun.”

You reloaded your shotgun with another hacky sack and headed over to two yokai’s, one being a bird and the other being a dog, both enjoying a cup of coffee. You cocked the weapon at the bird yokai and gave him a wicked smile.

“Hiya boys.” And shot the red footbag at the officer. The eagle went flying backwards as you went for the dog officer, you leg swinging the coffee out of his hands and then used the underside of the shotgun to knock him out.

You reloaded the weapon again with your (F/C 1) smoke bomb and aimed it to one of the closest meeting halls, shooting the beautiful color and then slammed the door shut, quickly sliding a door under the handle. The banging against the door filled your ears as cops started to realize what exactly was happening, a crazy yokai was storming through the police station and no one has stopped them yet. Two more yokai ran towards you and with a few swift moves you shot one with confetti and another with (F/C 2), sending a female yokai through one of the windows into an office. You looked at the chaos around you and let out a light chuckle.

Oh, this is going to be fun indeed.

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

“Mick, I don’t think you can chew the bars off with your teeth.”

“Well, you don’t see Danny putting his teeth to work!”

“Hey! I ain’t ruinin’ these pearly whites.”

The Mud Dogs slid down against the bars as they, once again, ran out of ideas to bust out of jail. They had been stuck at the police station for over a few hours now, each one of their usual plans for busting out no longer worked due to them reusing those plans over and over.

The electric eel would twiddle his thumbs if he had any, so would create little sparks between his little nubs, the power reducing collar around his neck taking away most of his shocking abilities. They were in all separate cages as well and were with about a dozen other prisoners. With the police station being enormous, the three men had a clear view from the front entrance all the way out to the evidence locker.

The ogre rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms and Danny let out a low gust of air as he pulled his arms out of the bars and let them hang.

Mickey let out a bored sigh as a guard walked past, a ugly frown over her face as she eyed the members of the Mud Dogs. Leonard growled as she walked past and the officer quickly made her way to the next section, Mickey couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the sight.

“Easy now, Double L, you might scare her off.”

Mickey let his mind start to wonder and he instantly thought of you. He would be hanging out with you if he wasn’t in jail, both of you either playing games or walking the streets and stealing other yokai’s wallets. Before you came along, the eel never thought that he would find someone like you, especially someone who has gotten the best of him. But, after you successfully saw right through one of his stealing tricks, he felt like it was love at first sight. Of course, it took a lot of trust, and the rule to not steal from each other after the 20th time of doing so, for the both of you to begin a friendship. Now, Mickey gave you anything he stole that he thought you would like.

A sudden scream came from the front entrance and almost every prisoner looked up, even some getting up and tried to look through the bars. Mickey didn’t pay much attention to it since it was the police station after all, it was probably someone’s first time getting arrested and they were just having a fit. Danny was trying to peek through the bars and a small gasp escaped this throat.

“Holy shit! Mick, is that your dame?”

Mickey was in awe as you reloaded your shotgun as officers from the opposite side of the holding area started to race out and you perfectly aimed for the first yokai that came up to you first, easily shooting a blue hacky sack into his right shoulder. As he went down, you effortlessly put in another bag and instantly headshot the cop behind him.

Both Leonard and Mickey hopped up from their spot as other prisoners got interested in the commotion. At the front of the entrance to the cages, (F/C 1 and F/C 2) pooled around the floor as an officer yokai was tossed into the middle of the row of cages. And within the clouds of colors popped out you, the colors ever so fading into your clothes and hair as a devilish smile spread across your face.

Both Danny and Leonard rolled their eyes at the eel’s starstruck expression, of course they were going to be saved by you, you were the only one crazy enough to come here and go up against several cops alone. They were just shocked that you had made it this far without getting shot.

The eel could feel his tail curl in content as he watched you take on another two guards, moving your hands to the middle of the gun to hit the one closest to you with the grip of the gun. You hit the wooden end against the yokai’s nose a few times before you turned your attention to the other cop, throwing the gun right between his legs.

As you made your way out of the colorful gas, the male yokai you shot in the shoulder got up, his fingers pulling out his plastic paton and raced towards you. You quickly ducked as he missed the target and then swung your shotgun over your shoulder, twirling it until it directly aimed at the officer, and a bust of confetti exploded against his face.

“Hahahahahaahah. Oh wow.”

You let out a cackle as he let out a cry and you swing your gun against his head, instantly knocking him out.

The prisoners were screaming your name now, not in cheer, but in hate. They knew who you were, they knew who you worked for, and they knew they would rather have you caught than their own freedom.

You reloaded your shotgun just in time as a female officer came down the stairs, her tail swishing back and forth in anger as she pulled out her gun. You used your longer gun to push her arm away, the bullet meant for your head busted into the ceiling, your strength barely being about to hold the woman’s arm against the wall. You kicked her behind her knee and twisted her arm as she came down, using her back as a stable place to aim as another officer came from the smoke behind you, the paint canister smashing into his head, two different colors blending into the walls.

You brought your shotgun down against the female yokai’s head and watched as her body went limp on the ground, a sweaty breath escaping your throat as you waited for more cops to come and stop you. When none showed up, you took in the room around you, smiling as you saw the Mud Dogz, and then finally heard the other criminals roaring at you in rage.

“You stole my life-savings!”

“Hiya, puddin,” you purred as your boyfriend stared at you, blush crossing his cheeks as took in your beaten and overworked body, how the colors you chose for your smoke bombs brighten the shine in your eyes.

“You’re the reason why I’m in here!”

You gave a polite wave to everyone as you made over to Mickey’s cage, blood staining your teeth as you smiled at him.

“Hey, lovebugs, we still need to get out of here,” he grumbled, his eyes swinging over to the furious yokai’s in the cages, trying to make as much racket as they could so that anyone could hear them.

“Just hold on for one second, sweethearts.” You said and then rammed the handle of your gun into the closest criminals throat, before he could even utter your name. The male yokai choked a few times as you repeatedly slammed the shotgun into his throat. You then crashed your gun into the side of his head and then into his leg, bringing him down. The next culprit charged towards you and you instantly got ready, your boyfriend immediately knowing what you were going to do.

“Right, just give a minute to find a key,” you said and was about to start the search for keys, until a pounding alarm came on, causing you and almost everyone else to cover their ears. One of the officers, too afraid to come and face you, went to the control room instead and got the brilliant idea to unlock all the cages, except for the Mud Dogz. When the ringing stopped, you looked up to see the prisoners crawl out of their cages, sinister smiles on their faces as you were outmatched from 12 to one. You rolled your shoulders and popped your neck as you looked back at the Mud Dogz with a smirk.

Oh how you were a walking masterpiece was all he could think in his mind until Leonard bursted inside his bubble.

“Batter up!” The eel warned, and your gun went straight into his mouth as you rocked the weapon as a baseball bat. The yokai went flying and the strength behind the blow made him flip over, barely missing his head as he landed on the floor. With you being out of ammo for your shotgun, you threw it across the room, hitting a female yokai in the stomach and then jumped her, your legs wrapping around her as you hands went for her throat.

“Hey! I’m going as fast as I can! I already dealt with the officers up front!” You hollered as a pair of hands went around your throat and slammed you against the prison bars, the cold metal drilling into your back. You spat the leftover blood in your mouth into his face and then slammed your elbow into his elbow pit and twisted his arm until he went limp in your arms.

“Ah, Mick, your doll is pretty, violent,” the rat said, his eyes growing wide as your fist made contact with someone’s face and then groin area.

“Yeah, isn't it amazing?” The ell cooed, both of the Mud Doz crew disgusted to see a little drool dripping out of his mouth.

You then slid under a female cat yokai and to one of the unconscious officers and dug through their pockets. Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the keycard, and then you found fingers digging into your arms as two prisoners pulled you back and tossed you across the room.

You blinked a few times to see a few figures coming towards you, barely being able to make out their faces. You quickly tried to make out the Mud Dogz and then slid the keycard over to the closest cage that they were in before a female hyena punched you in the gut. Danny was the closest and he used his tail to bring the card closer, working his fingers fast as the criminals got closer to you. The rat tossed the card to Mickey as he went over to help you, his claws already tearing into one of the prisoner's back that was closest to him. Mickey used the card to get the collar off and then to unlock the door, tossing the plastic card over to Leonard as he slithered over to the battle.

The ogre gripped the bars around him, “Yeah, but we are losing time. Y/N needs to get the keys and us out before more show up!”

A grunt escaped your lips as you rubbed your head from the impact. You could feel a hard headache start to form in the back of your skull as you tried to take in your surroundings, someone was yelling your name.

You were being choked out during all of this, red slowly starting to cover your face as you lost the will to breath. You kicked the female in the stomach but she didn’t budge.

The strong hands released you and you crawled away to see Mickey curl around the female hyena, instantly shocking her once her hands left your body. You took in a few gulps of air and watched as the Mud Dogz took care of the rest of the prisoners. You let out a breathy laugh and laid yourself back down, allowing yourself to take a break during all the chaos.

“Y/N! Y/N! Get up!”

“Come onnnn. Budge motherfucker,” you gasped out, and the hyena yokai let out a raspy cackle as her fingers dug deeper into your throat.

Mickey was beside you as you took the well-deserved break, his flippers fanning you as Leonard and Danny picked up the cops electric guns.

You looked around, the sprinkle of rainbow confetti, paint, and the smoke from the canisters. The floor was littered with bodies, both cops and criminals knocked out or were whining against the concrete. Your nose was bleeding and bruises painted your body, but the thrill that traveled through your body was an excellent adrenaline high.

“May I join?”

“Did I do good?” You rasped out and the eel helped you up.

“Huh, I guess you’re right. No one messes with Y/N fucking L/N!”

“Just take me to that new restaurant downtown and we’ll call it even.”

“Of course, babe! I mean, look at the mess!”

The teal eel planted a kiss on your cheek as he helped you stay steady on your feet, a laugh wheezing out of his throat at you cursing your own name.

“Pretty sure they’ll be waiting there, let’s go through the back.”

You both regrouped with Danny and Leonard and started to head over to where you came from, but Leonard stopped you all.

“We owe you big time for this.”

As the rat and ogre made their way towards the back, the long eel took a hold of your hand and pulled you close, a little giggle escaping your lips as you both enjoyed a tender kiss.

#rottmnt #tmnt #rottmnt malicious mickey #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #rottmnt mickey x reader #mickey x reader

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listless-brainrot · 4 years ago

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jet lives au but make it jetru (pt 3)

so for this, considering that the next ep logically would be tales of ba sing se, and keeping this in mind, i think this would essentially replace aang’s tale (i’m sorry you funky little monk boy i still love you) which i don’t want to do but i’m writing this with this in mind

so may i present to you

the tale of jet

(tw for descriptions of manipulation, this arc is messed up and i won’t mince words about it) (this is also one of the longer ones just because it’s specifically jet-centric)

pt 1 can be read here!

pt 2 can be read here!

-takes place during tales of ba sing se

-picks up right where the previous left off in terms of brainwashing jet

-since we aren’t given much on how it works exactly, a lot of this is headcanoning about the process

-going off of this, i headcanon that the brainwashing is only temporary, as well as subconsciously deep set, and takes multiple sessions to reinforce

-it starts off with jet being dragged to a cell, he appears to be in a tranced state, though when he’s thrown inside he briefly becomes aware of what is going on and begins struggling as they approach the door, unable to talk or move

-the dai li lock him up, leave him there and regroup, going to the area where they fight the gaang under lake laogai, and there they meet long feng

-long feng asks about the newest prisoner, asks for any details on him

-”there are none, sir.” “none?” “none. no profiles, no connections to speak of. the only thing we found on him was this passport.” “is it his?” “we don’t believe so, sir. background checks match it to no one within the walls.” "interesting. is he a citizen of ba sing se?” “he’d been living in ba sing se, but most likely snuck in illegally.” “with the passport, no doubt.” “it’s a possibility, sir.”

-long feng continues to press for details as he strides down the long, empty halls of lake laogai. he learns that he attacked a tea shop as well as its occupants, that witnesses fully believe that he’s crazy for calling them firebenders.

-the more he learns, the more a plan begins to develop in his mind, making him stop in his tracks entirely.

-a boy, with little to no connections to anyone else? a criminal, no less, who knows how to fight? he thinks about his current predicament with the avatar. the dai li may be watching, but would it be enough? the avatar being present is a threat in itself.

-long feng dismisses the dai li, thanking them for their continued service. once they are gone, he heads back towards the cell, telling those guarding him to let him through.

-here, he finds himself met with an angry boy, with a wild mop of hair and wide, terrified eyes. he watches him scowl and begin to shout, angry words only deafened by the stone covering his mouth.

-bending the ground and forcing him into a sitting position, binding him to the rock, long feng approaches, taking the rock away, ignoring the flurry of confusion and insults that follow.

-”you can cease your infernal shrieking, boy. there’s no one around to hear you. in fact, there’s no reason for you to be shrieking at all.”

-jet doesn’t understand. his head hurts too much to fully comprehend the man’s words. all he knows is that he’s angry and scared. something about this man being here, though, makes him tense.

-”i have a proposal for you, jet. i have a little problem in my humble city that only someone like you can address. you are familiar with the avatar, correct?”

-long feng notes the way his eyes widen, though he says nothing.

-”to the rest of the world, he is their savior; perhaps, even, their god. but here, he is a threat. a real threat- bigger than any silly little firebender.”

-”if it comes down to it... you will be the one to eliminate him.”

-the protests were expected. after being beckoned, the two agents guarding the door enter, and the sight immediately sends jet into a panic. long feng tells the agents to brainwash him again, to make sure it sticks, and turns to leave as they close in.

-long feng is confident. confident that his plan is without fail, without flaw. no one is looking for him. who would miss a criminal?

-cut back to ba sing se, where haru is looking for jet.

-he’d been asking around for days now, and everyone refuses to speak up about the event

-he can’t seem to find any prisons, which is odd for the lower ring

-those who do simply say that the kid got what was coming to him. this rubs him the wrong way and unsettles him deeply

-he doesn’t dare go back to the tea shop yet. there’s always at least a couple dai li agents around, and he trusts them all about as far as he can throw them

-though, they are his only leads...

-he decides to try to find the guards from that night. or just some normal city guards. maybe they’ll be reasonable?

-however they react, he knows that something’s gotta help him find jet. bottom line is, he’s got to find jet, or at least what’s happened to him. this city is giving him the creeps.

-cut back to jet under lake laogai, training to fight the avatar. he hasn’t left the lake in days.

-he hates this. every single attack he makes doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel like him. nothing feels like him anymore. and yet something in his mind makes him continue.

-long feng works with him specifically. telling him any possible attacks he may dish out, any loops he may throw him for. as if he were working with yet another dai li agent.

-by the end of it all he’s exhausted. he barely has any energy to fight back with. he can barely think of any plans to escape- they always take his swords.

-but he tries to rebel in the little ways he can.

-as he sits alone in his cell, he leans against the wall and whistles. loudly. the guards absolutely hate it. he doesn’t stop. bird call after bird call. seems like he’s learned a new one every day.

-as the guards bang against his door and yell at him to shut up, he smirks. he might be stuck here, but they’re also stuck with him.

-a part of him also hopes that they hear it. maybe they’ll recognize his signal.

-cut back to ba sing se, it’s late at night, and haru’s sitting with guards at a different shop, or perhaps a bar of some sort. he asks them about the kid they saw a few days ago, and tries to ignore how they all laugh at his demise.

-they don’t tell him anything useful- they don’t know where he went, either. so, he decides to ask about the dai li.

-these guards have a pointedly different attitude compared to those in the innermost rings, the main difference being just how grateful they sound.

-”crime’s always been difficult to stay on top of in the lower ring, but with the dai li here, it’s like it just disappears! makes our jobs easier,” “yeah, whatever they do, i hope they keep doing it- the reform work they do is incredible, it’s like you never knew they were criminals in the first place!” “i heard they’ve got this big reform facility somewhere. maybe it’s in the middle ring? they’ve got the money for it there; much more money than what we’ve got, anyway,”

-across from the shop, hidden in the shadows, a single dai li agent watches.

-haru is put off by all this glorification, and tries to ask if they know anything about this ‘reform’. again, they don’t. he comes up short once again.

-not knowing what else to do, he figures he should start looking somewhere else. he thanks them all and leaves.

-as he leaves, he doesn’t notice the guards being approached by the dai li, nor the guards pointing down the alleyway he’s headed.

-walking alone, he feels this overwhelming sense of being watched. glancing over his shoulder, he catches a glimpse of the dai li agent in the corner of his eye.

-he picks up the pace. the agent does as well. he’s being followed.

-something tells him to duck, and a stone hand flies right over his head. he only has a split second to react before another follows, nearly snagging his ankle.

-panicking, he bends. anything to get him out of there.

-the agent is slammed into a nearby wall as haru rounds the corner, using the precious time he bought to try and lose the agent.

-conveniently, the tea shop is right there. however, there are other agents out there on patrol. despite running before, now, he’s got to be inconspicuous.

-just walking up to a door has never been so nerve-wracking.

-it’s past closing time when he enters, and both zuko and iroh are surprised to see him. he hasn’t turned up to work in a while.

-he’s about to answer when he hears approaching footsteps outside, and he pushes past the two of them cleaning up shop, ducking behind the counter, not having enough time to slip into the back rooms.

-the dai li agent enters, accompanied by the other two on patrol. iroh stands behind the counter, wiping it down, fully aware of the boy hiding behind it as the agents ask if he’s seen anything suspicious.

-knowing his luck when it comes to being sold out by random old people, haru prays that iroh is different.

-to his surprise, iroh really is different, not only keeping him safe, but misleading the agents by telling them he’d snuck past to another shop.

-the utter camaraderie of the exchange is uncomfortable, with iroh treating the dai li with so much respect. luckily though, it’s enough to get them to leave.

-when they do leave, haru doesn’t move from his spot until they tell him he’s gone, and even then, his fear is poignant. he wants to talk, tell them what’s going on, but his words catch in his throat. iroh notices this, telling him to sit down and talk with them in the back rooms. they want to know what’s going on, too.

-mutely, haru accepts their offer. sitting in the back with a cup of calming tea, allowing it to steady his nerves as he tells zuko and iroh about his discoveries. about criminals disappearing, about them suddenly acting normal. they ask why he was tussling with the dai li, and he finally admits that he was looking for jet, and he’s starting to think that the dai li are more involved with his disappearance than he originally thought- he just thought they took him to a prison.

-all this talk about the dai li gets zuko’s attention specifically. if something is going on within the walls and the dai li are connected to it, maybe the city isn’t as safe for them as they thought.

-haru voices this, takin the thoughts out of zuko’s mind, and adds that, if something Is going on in this city, then it makes finding jet even more important. he could be in danger.

-neither zuko nor iroh fully understand why he’s so desperate to find him. truth be told, haru’s not too sure either. but he still wants to try, especially since no one else will. he begins to speculate.

-”he said there’s traitors here, and he got arrested for it. what if he was right?”

-cut back to jet the following morning, leaving the lake for the first time in days, being escorted by the dai li back into ba sing se. his pupils are dilated and he’s in a daze.

-”what if there’s something important they’re all trying to hide from us?”

-they take jet to this tiny apartment, and begin telling him what he’s going to do. when they leave, he will believe that he’s been living peacefully in the city.

-”the dai li kept watching me- i was just asking about them, and they tried to get me, too. what if that’s why?”

-they hand him back his swords. if the avatar starts doing anything out of line, he’s to mislead them as much as possible.

-”they didn’t like me snooping around. they definitely have something they want to hide.”

-jet simply stands still and listens, nodding as the dai li wrap up their instructions. they tell him he won’t remember a thing about what he’s been put through- the brainwashing, the training. he will simply live the life they want him to.

-”whatever it is, i bet it’s got something to do with jet. and i’m going to find out what it is. i’m going to find him. no matter what it takes.” haru’s fear changes to determinism, and, despite his exhaustion, a fire blazes in his eyes; the same fire that blazed in katara’s when she told sokka and aang of her plan to get arrested for earthbending.

-they tell him he is safe here. always has been. this much he will remember.

-finally, the dai li leave. the moment the door closes, he snaps out of his trance, blinking, swords in hand. sheathing them as he looks around, he faintly recognizes where he is- this is his apartment. he’s been living here peacefully. for some reason, he feels an urge to leave and look for... something. he doesn’t know why, but he’s drawn to the barn that stands nearby. this is... his job? of course it is. he’s been working here. peacefully.

-nothing is wrong in ba sing se. he’s safe here.

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labyrinth-runner · 5 years ago

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oop ok abby can i please get more to pirate!obi finding reader in the brig & bringing her onboard? you've honestly given me serotonin from your answer haha love you!

Kara, because I love you, I did this a day earlier that I had planned.

As of rn. This doesn’t have a formal name

Gif from:https://thecl0newars.tumblr.com/post/619119447899357184/obi-wan-kenobi-that-thing-he-does-i-love-him

Scenario: Based off this ask Kara sent me earlier this week. ALSO PLEASE COME TO ME FOR PIRATE!OBI Y’ALL

Word count: Little under 1700

No Warnings

Obi-Wan smirked as he swung from his ship to the one they were boarding. The dread pirate Hondo had been terrorizing these seas for so long. Obi-Wan was going to take back what was rightfully his, specifically a compass that would lead him to his heart’s desire. He had lost it after a drunken night of poker. By the time he woke from his drunken stupor, Hondo, his pants, and his compass were gone. Talk about getting fleeced. He’d been tracking Hondo ever since, determined to take back what was rightfully his. He’d finally caught up with him in the Corellian sea. The sea battle had been fairly limited, and now they had attached grappling hooks to board. There was always a sense of excitement in the air as he swung from his territory onto someone else’s. His men were diving into the battle, which was good. They’d distract the crew long enough for him to find what he needed and get out of there. He tried not to tangle with other pirates, you know, the Code and all. He did have some honor… for a pirate.

He snuck his way through the battles, delivering blows here and there as he needed to clear his path. Eventually he made it to the Captain’s quarters. He found it surprisingly empty. He assumed Hondo must be engaged elsewhere. Swiftly, he searched for his compass, eventually finding it in the man’s desk with other broken objects.

“Oh, Hondo, you never were very good at determining something’s worth if it had no monetary value,” he smirked. He tossed the compass in the air before catching it and tucking it into his pocket. “Now, time for some fun.”

Obi-Wan dashed into the fray, sword a-swinging. For all his grandeur, he really was one of the best swordsmen to sail the seas. It was almost second nature to him, his sword an extension of his arm. He made his way around the ship until he heard banging coming from down below.

“Skywalker, cover me!” He yelled to his first mate as he went down below. Below decks was empty of pirates, but he heard clanging, as if metal were striking metal. Odd, he thought, but then he saw you.

You were so thoroughly done with pirates at this point. You’d been captured by Hondo a few ports ago. Apparently he thought he could sell you to some wealthy dignitary, but you had been too much of a handful. That was how you found yourself bound, gagged, and placed in a cell. You had been stripped down to your knickers, Hondo figuring that at least your clothes had value, even if you didn’t. His intention was to maroon you on the next island he found. Instead, you were praying to the maker that you weren’t hit by a stray cannonball as you saw them cut through the hull of the ship around you like nothing. You wondered if perhaps you were being rescued by the royal navy. Oh yes, that would be wonderful. Surely your father’s friend, Admiral Yularen, would be a sight for sore eyes. You found the metal water cup in your cell and started to bang it over the bars to attract attention. You cried out, voice muffled by the gag of course, when you heard footsteps approach.

This was it. This was your savior!

This… was another bloody pirate.

Who was continuing to come your way, while staring at you. Lovely, you thought, he clearly has no manners.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” he smiled, leaning against the bars. He reached through to tilt your chin up. “It appears there’s a little bird in a cage. Would you like to be set free?”

You closed your eyes. Go with this pirate who at least wants to free you for some reason, or stay here with Hondo and be marooned? Well, there was not much of a choice to be made. You nodded.

“Alright, then,” he nodded back. He found the keys over on the peg across the room and unlocked the door. Without warning, he hoisted you over his shoulder. You let out an indignant sound as you started to hit his back. How dare this ruffian man handle you? You tried to yell at him to put you down! However, nothing resembling words could be heard around the gag.

He playfully whapped your butt with the broad side of his sword.

“Careful, Lass, wouldn’t want to make me drop you,” he replied. You could tell by the tone that he had a smug grin on his face as he took you up the stairs and back into the midst of the on-going battle. He took hold of a piece of rope, wrapping it around his hand as he stood on the edge of the ship.

“Ehhhh, Kenobi! What are you doing with my prisoner?!” Hondo called out after him. He turned to face Hondo and gave him a little salute.

“Finders Keepers, mate! You know the rules!” He yelled back before swinging back towards the Negotiator.

He unceremoniously dropped you on the ground.

“Alright, men, fall back or fall behind!” He yelled as he started to cut the grappling hooks free with a smirk. The ship lurched forward, already sailing away from the battle.

You heard footfalls as the men landed back on the ship. You were surrounded, and suddenly very nervous as they leered at you. A man with longer hair that the others came up to you, spinning you around to get a better look.

He let out a whistle. “I wasn’t aware we were taking treasure, Captain.”

You scoffed.

“She’s a woman, Skywalker, not a prize to be won or stolen. Never joke about a lady’s heart. The only way you can get that is if you earn it, and if you do, well… you best be treasuring it,” Obi-Wan replied, strolling back over to untie all your bindings.

“What are you to do with me?” You asked.

“Nothing yet, Lass,” Captain Kenobi smiled. “What happens next is up to you.”

He nodded to Anakin who proceeded to place a plank down on the deck, half over the water. Your eyes widened.

“What’s that for?”

“For you. You can either join my merry band of men or you can walk the plank. It’s bad luck to have a woman aboard, and I’m not entirely fond of dead weight, am I boys?” He called out to the crew.

They responded with a cheer. You swallowed. Well, you weren’t just about to jump off a ship after being rescued from another. That would just be foolish. But, you still felt the need to ask. “Why save me if you were just going to throw me overboard?”

“Ah-ah, darling,” he said, wagging his finger at you, “I’m not throwing you overboard. I’m giving you a choice, something that Hondo didn’t. Now, lass, what’ll it be?”

“Well, clearly I’ll join the crew. I don’t have a death wish,” you replied.

“Good. Although, you’ll have to find a change of clothes. Walking around in your underwear is rather distracting and affects the work quality of my crew,” he smirked, earning a bunch of wolf whistles from the crew. Captain Kenobi offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

You cautiously placed your hand in his, following him into his cabin. He dug around in a chest, presenting you with a baggy pair of red and white striped pants, a belt, and a billowy pirate shirt before shoving you behind his changing screen. You swiftly dressed before stepping back out into the room. You smirked, seeing his eyes widen and a slight blush creep up on his cheeks above his beard.

“Like what you see?” You purred.

“Be careful about stoking fires around here, little one, you’ll set the boat ablaze and be trapped on it,” he winked.

“Some like it hot,” you smiled back.

He chuckled, “I think I’ll enjoy having you around, lass. Now, you’re free to go where you like. I’m needed above deck.” He whipped out a compass from his pocket, smiling at it before leaving the cabin. You followed him out, walking to the bow as he walked to the stern. You leaned over the edge, noticing a figurehead there. You almost did a double-take looking at it.

“Admiring the view?” The first mate, Skywalker, asked.

“She’s beautiful,” you murmured, looking at the carved woman.

“Aye, that she is,” he said, a weird look on his face. “Looks a bit familiar, don’t you think?”

You tilted your head, leaning out a bit further to get a better look. She looked like you. “Who’s it modeled after?”

“That’s the thing,” Anakin said, “Obi-Wan, the Captain, doesn’t know. He had it commissioned based off a sketch of his soulmate that he got from some fortuneteller after they hooked up on the island Mandalore.”

“Is that so?” you murmured.

“Land ho!” A voice shouted from the crow’s nest. The crew around you, once idle, now began to work in a fury, readying to dock at the island coming up on the horizon. This could be your chance to find your way back home. You looked down at the ring your fiancé, Rush Clovis, had given you. You’d hidden it away in your clothes so that Hondo wouldn’t take it. Your life with him would have been comfortable, yes, but that wasn’t what you wanted. It wasn’t what you craved. No, you wanted adventure, and a love that consumed. You turned your head, locking eyes with Captain Kenobi. He gave you a smirk that lit a spark. You bit your lip, looking down at the ring in your hands. No, you wouldn’t be going home. Not today, not ever. With one flick of your wrist, you hurled the ring into the clear blue depths of the ocean below. A sense of freedom enveloped you, fresh as the sea breeze. It would be a pirate’s life for you, and somehow, it didn’t seem all that bad.

#Pirate!Obi

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hyperbolicpurple · 6 years ago

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After that meta post that talked about Dany tending to the sick herself, I started thinking about what I personally consider to be the moral high points of ASOIAF, and I came up with four scenes that really encapsulate some of the books’ themes to me and, funnily enough, they’re all scenes about female characters:

Ser Barristan watched with ill-concealed apprehension. “You should not linger here overlong, Your Grace. The Astapori are being fed, as you commanded. There’s no more we can do for the poor wretches. We should repair back to the city.”

“Go if you wish, ser. I will not detain you. I will not detain any of you.” Dany vaulted down from the horse. “I cannot heal them, but I can show them that their Mother cares.”

Jhogo sucked in his breath. “Khaleesi, no.” The bell in his braid rang softly as he dismounted. “You must not get any closer. Do not let them touch you! Do not!”

Dany walked right past him. There was an old man on the ground a few feet away, moaning and staring up at the grey belly of the clouds. She knelt beside him, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and pushed back his dirty grey hair to feel his brow. “His flesh is on fire. I need water to bathe him. Seawater will serve. Marselen, will you fetch some for me? I need oil as well, for the pyre. Who will help me burn the dead?”

By the time Aggo returned with Grey Worm and fifty of the Unsullied loping behind his horse, Dany had shamed all of them into helping her....

--Daenerys IV, A Dance with Dragons

Wolves. Arya went cold. Robb’s men, and my father’s. She felt drawn toward the cages. The bars allowed so little room that prisoners could neither sit nor turn; they stood naked, exposed to sun and wind and rain. The first three cages held dead men. Carrion crows had eaten out their eyes, yet the empty sockets seemed to follow her. The fourth man in the row stirred as she passed. Around his mouth his ragged beard was thick with blood and flies. They exploded when he spoke, buzzing around his head. “Water.” The word was a croak. “Please ... water ...”

... She looked at their filthy hair and scraggly beards and reddened eyes, at their dry, cracked, bleeding lips. Wolves, she thought again. Like me. Was this her pack? How could they be Robb’s men? She wanted to hit them. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to cry. They all seemed to be looking at her, the living and the dead alike. The old man had squeezed three fingers out between the bars. “Water,” he said, “water.”

Arya swung down from her horse. They can’t hurt me, they’re dying. She took her cup from her bedroll and went to the fountain. “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” the townsman snapped. “They’re no concern o’ yours.” She raised the cup to the fish’s mouth. The water splashed across her fingers and down her sleeve, but Arya did not move until the cup was brimming over....

The bars were too narrow to pass a cup through, but Harwin and Gendry offered her a leg up. She planted a food in Harwin’s cupped hands, vaulted onto Gendry’s shoulders, and grabbed the bars on top of the cage. The fat man turned his face up and pressed his cheek to the iron, and Arya poured the water over him.

--Arya V, A Storm of Swords

Brienne sucked in her breath and drew Oathkeeper. Too many, she thought, with a start of fear, they are too many. “Gendry,” she said in a low voice, “you’ll want a sword, and armor. These are not your friends. They’re no one’s friends.”

“What are you talking about?” The boy came and stood beside her, his hammer in hand.

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too. “Him.”

“Not him. His helm.” Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. She had a pretty good notion who wore the Hound’s helm. The children, she thought.

The door the the inn banged open. Willow stepped out into the rain, a crossbow in her hands. The girl was shouting at the riders, but a clap of thunder rolled across the yard, drowning out her words. As it faded, Brienne heard the man in the Hound’s helm say, “Loose a quarrel at me and I’ll shove that crossbow up your cunt and fuck you with it. Then I’ll pop your fucking eyes out and make you eat them.” The fury in the man’s voice drove Willow back a step, trembling.

Seven, Brienne thought again, despairing. She had no chance against seven, she knew. No chance, and no choice.

She stepped out into the rain, Oathkeeper in hand. “Leave her be. If you want to rape someone, try me.”

--Brienne VII, A Feast for Crows

The freerider, a small man in dented plate without device, duly appeared at the west end of the yard, but of his opponent there was no sign. Finally a chestnut stallion trotted into view in a swirl of crimson and scarlet silks, but Ser Dontos was not on it. The knight appeared a moment later, cursing and staggering, clad in breastplate and plumed helm and nothing else. His legs were pale and skinny, and his manhood flopped about obscenely as he chased after his horse. The watchers roared and shouted insults. Catching his horse by the bridle, Ser Dontos tried to mount, but the animal would not stand still and the knight was so drunk that his bare foot kept missing the stirrup.

By then the crowd was howling with laughter ... all but the king. Joffrey had a look in his eyes that Sansa remembered well, the same look he’d had at the Great Sept of Baelor the day he pronounced death on Lord Eddard Stark. Finally Ser Dontos the Red gave it up for a bad job, sat down in the dirt, and removed his plumed helm. “I lose,” he shouted. “Fetch me some wine.”

The king stood. “A cask from the cellars! I’ll see him drowned in it.”

Sansa heard herself gasp. “No, you can’t.”

Joffrey turned his head. “What did you say?”

Sansa could not believe she had spoken. Was she mad? To tell him no in front of half the court? She hadn’t meant to say anything, only ... Ser Dontos was drunk and silly and useless, but he meant no harm.

“Did you say can’t? Did you?”

“Please,” Sansa said, “I only meant ... it would be ill luck, Your Grace ... to, to kill a man on your name day.”

--Sansa I, A Clash of Kings

#valyrianscrolls #sansa stark #arya stark #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf #brienne of tarth #long post for ts #love my ladies

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magicalsalamander · 7 years ago

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Aurelius Part 5

Pairing: BTS Namjoon ⇆ Reader

Genre: Werewolf | Fluff | Angst | Smut [later] |

Summary: When the daughter of the secretary for the Minister for Wolf and Canine relations is the last living member of her clan, she must find a way to avenge her family. She must find a way to put an end to the hunters whose sole purpose is to cleanse the world of werewolves. The golden one hasn’t forgotten. Will she be able to get the revenge she needs?

Words: 8.7 K

Warnings: Rated Mature; explicit themes.

A/N: Orig post: 08|09| 2018; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe.

⇽ Prev | Masterlist | Next [Final]⇾

The brown, matted fur tapped against his calves, thick water droplets dripped off the split ends of his pelt cloak. It puddled behind him as he took powerful steps forward. His whistling echoed in the empty hallway, soft like sing-song birds chirping, to the tune of twisted nerve. He had a pep in his step with each change in his tone and tempo. He ran his trembling, bandaged hand through his hair shucking the stringy fringe out of his eyes. The pitch kept inclining reaching a near chord ripping pitch as he approached the iron cage prison door. The bottom bars were rusted, as it feed off the water that pooled around the door. He gripped the coarse edge of the handle and dramatically unjammed it out its lock.

The clanking of the heavy bars sliding across eachother shook the walls rattling the heavy, industrial chains that were attached from the ceiling to handcuffs on my wrist. The feet of chain kept me in a grid lock kneeling position as my body was kept taunt. The rope methodically tied around my thighs and calves secured me into place; the twine dug into old scars over my pants as it burned with the small movements. The Hunter about to throw another punch my way skidded to a stop and stepped back greeted the person with a ceremonial shout. I coughed recovering from the last infliction and lifted my head to the newest visitor. My shoulders ached from being held in an over arm tie for who knows how long. Everything hurt...so much, it hurt so much.

The dull, cobblestone walls echoed the sound of his boots treading through water that was still dripping from my figure. I looked up at the man who brought me here, Jared, and growled. He chuckled waving his beaten hand at me, purposely pausing with an all too happy tone, “Only got me a bit baby girl, but look at you, all tied up. Weren’t you warned to not mess with the Hunters?”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction knowing that my kind feared the name. I didn’t want to give him that hand over me, us. I’d bite his hand a thousand times over, even if I ended up in the same position, before I gave him that satisfaction. I remained smug and just stared at him.

He grew frustrated with the lack of a reaction, “Do you not know of the HUNTERS!” He enunciated each syllable, finishing with scream until the veins in his neck turned purple. When I didn’t answer him still he paced around the room, turning his back to me until he snapped and lunged at me. His eyes were that of a savage Neanderthal as he repeatedly kicking me. My knees scrapped against the flooring as I swung back but I came back like a boomerang because of the chains on the force of his kicks. The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I grunted trying to breathe again, his steel toe boots were like a knife jabbing into my ribs. I suppressed the grunts and whines the best I could, trying to prolong the effect of pain as long as possible.

The sweat dripping down my temple mixed with the water dripping beneath me. I spat a mix of saliva and blood at him, “I only know murderers and savages that go by that name.”

He grabbed my hair forcing my head back so I looked directly into his lunatic eyes. He jerked my head to the side as he looked for something on my neck. He shifted my head to the other side to observe my collarbone, my pathetic clothing wasn’t concealing much, or anything thing at all. “The bitch doesn’t have a mate, there’s no claim marking. She’s all alone. Oh, how sad puppy, you we’re out there all alone. A rogue no one cares about if she were to disappear. A waste of space.” He roughly let go of my head tossing me out of his grip.

My head bobbed down, dizziness settled in or catching up from holding my breath. I looked down at the floor. Something I didn’t think he could physically hit, but he tore into it and left it raw and bare in front of me. My heart. Namjoon. We weren’t bonded, and I left the Kim family behind me. I really was alone.

In the reflection in a puddle underneath me I saw someone in the background walk across the room. I swallowed back the taste of iron, clearing my clouded sense of smell. I picked up the pungent smell of death that I hadn’t noticed earlier, yet the life energy that was attached to it was familiar. My eyes followed and narrowed at the man who was torturing me before the other caveman came in. He stopped and stood over the out of place table, his broad back was facing me. The pelt that I felt a connection to hung over his shoulders was old, yet the man at the table was an overgrown teenager at most.

Jared caught on that I was staring at the man at the table. “We got a special treat for you.”

The kid turned around, so I could watch him slide the syringe into the vial, pulling up the thick black liquid. He handed the syringe to Jared, and he held it up to the single flood light, flicking it with his index. “This solution here, it’s going to force you to shift. We’re going to skin you and I’ll carry your pelt around on my shoulders along with the rest of my collection.” Once he was satisfied with his taunting he looked at me smiling whole heartedly, “Surprise.”

His menacing eyes locked on my neck as he stepped towards me, the other four men in the room circled around him to watch the spectacle. I jerked back, the ropes dug into my legs and the chain whipped above me as I fought to move away, “No, don’t! Don’t do it, don’t do this! NOOOOO—AHHH!”

Namjoon stumbled on the uneven ground, the fight between the human side and the wolf was pulling his energy in all different directions. His eyes opaque in glitching obsidian as he was fought off the shift. He needed to go after Aure. He needed to bring back his mate. Fur grew at his knuckles and along his spine, his nails elongated with his fangs into a non-fictional, medieval version of a werewolf. He clumsily sprinted after Aure, groans and pleads of her name fell past his bloody lips, “Aure!”

The bonsho was tolling, his internal roaring sounding at the gate of the underworld. He could see Aure’s figure in blips in front of him, “Aure! Come back!” The trees were rustling about him and his sensitive ears were ringing at the amount of sounds that were becoming overwhelming. He kept moving forward without paying attention, just relying on his wolf to follow the scent of his mate. His foot caught on dead roots that snaked unevenly from its dead stump and he crashed, skidding along the dry soil until he hit a solid tree. His pants caught on in his downfall ripping as he was yanked forward by his beastly momentum. He growled at himself, he knew he was being reckless, but he didn’t care what happened to him. He hunched on all fours, his spine curled like a lycanthrope, yet still man and continued running.

Namjoon couldn’t see her anymore, his heart was banging continuously to those at whatever gate asking them to hear his pleas. He doesn’t want to lose her, his mate, his everything. He shouldn’t have cupped his hands around the frightened bird in his hands. He should have opened his hands, but by closing his hands thinking he was protecting her he realized it was like magic trick and she disappeared when he was too late.

The broken edges of the shrubbery and stray branches scratched against his face, but he kept running forward. The fog was picking up as he approached the hurtling river, the constant sound of unsettled water was deafening. Fog swirled like a tornado around his limbs as he raced like a bullet. He pushed through shrubbery and ended up at an empty shoreline. Namjoon skidded to a stop at the edge of the water. Why did his wolf lead him here? He looked around sniffling insistently, but her scent “ended” here. In fact, it was dancing everywhere along the water, but it was localized here. Her scent was mixing in with the layer of fog and moisture in the air.

Namjoon couldn’t feel her presence nearby. He sloshed and dove forth into the water when he couldn’t find her on the shore. What if she was in the water? What if she went down the river? What…if she drowned? The fog was messing with his senses and emotions; the lucid scent was making him angry. He thrashed in the water when he kept turning up empty. He was growing restless. He fell to his knees and let his head fall back in a roar, his tears were mixing in with the fresh water below.

The daughter had been found, but she slipped through his fingers. It was all his fault.

He trudged back to the edge of the shore and lunged at the first tree within his line of sight. He balled up his fist and let it swing with all his strength. The tree splintered upon impact, denting as his fist repeatedly met the warping wood. Wood chips fell at his feet and he didn’t stop until the tree physically began tipping over and broke. He panted heavily the fur around his knuckles and skin tore open. He rested his head against the broken stump, “What do I do? What am I supposed to do!” What would Mama Luna tell him when he comes home without Aure. He couldn’t come home without Aure, it wasn’t home…it wouldn’t be home without her anymore. What would his father say…what would his pack say? An Alpha never gives up, he’s been raised to never give up.

His nose tingled again, that sweetness, her scent wafted strongly from the river. He whipped around, his eyes searching for her, but it still looked the same. He stumbled forth, feet curving around the rocks on the shore. He searched on the floor for the strong source of her scent. His eyes caught onto the gentle flowing of a white cloth stuck to a branch jammed between rocks. He immediately grabbed it and brought it up to his nose. It was a piece of her shirt. His eyes filtered red, he couldn’t give up, “I’m not giving up. I’m not ever giving up on you Aure.”

However, finding her was something he couldn’t do alone, he needed his pack.

He let the shift take over, chomping down on the piece of clothing in his mouth and ran back towards the pack house. He ran faster than he had ever ran in his life, pushing the beast to its limits to cut any more losses in time.

He saw the lights from the outside porch flicker between the trees. He howled from the depth of his bowels. He howled in alarm until he reached the edge of the forest and the lights in almost every window turned on. He stood in the center of the field, shifting back into his human form, he tore off his shirt since it hung in shreds at his waist in ruins. His panted as the back door opened and members of the pack poured out. Eleven, tall, muscular men stood at attention in front of the of worried lot in formation. His father found way through the crowd, “Move! Son! Son, what’s wrong?”

Mama Luna stepped up her white mumu dress, “I don’t see Aure. Where is—Where’s Aure?”

He turned his face away in shame from his grandmother, “I-I…lost her. I—We need to get her back. I need help getting her back!” He held up the tattered piece of her shirt to show everyone.

Aviva gasped and stepped forward taking the piece of fabric, she choked on tears and turned to Mama Luna, “It-it’s Aure’s. This is the shirt I gave her.” She ran into Mama Luna’s open embrace, crying into her shoulder. Even Seojun, who stood amongst the eleven, face dipped in despair like the rest. They had all grown close to her in some form or respected her at least. They all felt the sense of lost.

Alpha Kim voice grew stern, “What happened?”

Namjoon looked around at the faces of his cousins, their mates, grandmother, and his father. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, we need to find her. We need to send patrols out and contact the other packs if she is in their borders. The last place I saw her was at the river, her scent fades out there. We need to move now!”

Alpha Kim turned to the pack, “You heard your Alpha, divide up and move out! Keep the line of communication open!”

Without hesitation the wolves began stripping of their clothing and shifted, striking up secondary formation. They ritually howled to the moon, asking the Moon goddess to look over them and bless them with safe travels and…to protect their Luna.

Namjoon turned back to the forest, the moon making the crystalizing sweat on his broad chest glimmer. He had his eyes focused on a single goal, he was to lead, he had to find his Luna. He had to bring Aure back, “Aure, I’m coming.”

The sliding glass door slammed open a panting, half-awake mate called out, “Wait! Alpha Kim, the phone…it’s the Hunters”

The piece of fabric that was being treasured in Aviva’s hand slipped through her fingers and fluttered down onto the grass.

The Hunters.

“NOOO!” Jared snapped his bandaged hand around my neck, encasing his soft fingers around my throat. He tightened his grip until I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t protest. The glint in his eye was swirling cynically as he overpowered me. He readjusted his fingers around the syringe so his thumb was on the depressor ready for injection. He raised his fist to plummet the syringe in my neck, “Say goodbye.”

I closed my eyes, breathing in my last breath and I used it to hum the song that brought me comfort.

The metal cage door fiercely slammed open rattling the cobblestone, “Jared! Put that down and let her go!” The grip around my throat loosened as Jared stood up right at the commanding voice to address the newcomer. The other four behind us suddenly bowed deeply bringing a hand across their chest, tapping it to stand up again and in sync shouted, “AWOO!”

I coughed and greedily sucking in air, catching my breath again.

“You fuckin’ leave the house, your daughter and wife, for this!” The husky voice screamed at the barbaric animal.

My eyes nearly exploded, I looked up and sought out the voice directly of…Papa’s. He looked nothing like the sweet old man sitting on the couch with his granddaughter. Anger rolled off his figure like tar and he looked like he just climbed out bed.

Jared yelled back at his father, “Pops, this won’t take long. This bitch was out on her own. She’s nothing more than a disgusting dog, why do you care so much?”

Two more people came into the room following Papa like a cabinet. The first thing that caught my eye was the huge blade hanging in the holster on one of the Hunter’s hip. I narrowed my eyes, the shape of it was obnoxious, he was obviously compensating for something. The same man noticed me staring and walked over to me like a child walking up to a candy store. While the others were distracted he whispered to me, “Oh, little puppy are you scared?”

I cringed, all my hair stood at attention as his words echo in my mind reawakening a suppressed face, a suppressed fear. I remembered exactly who this man was, what that knife had done to me. He was the one who cut me, marked me with the H and poured the boiling water over my back. He was the physical embodiment of my scars.

I heard the unsheathing of his knife from the holster as the blade scratched the leather. He squatted down behind me, his warm breath tickling my ear as he crudely chuckled. I held myself stable despite my gut churning in nausea. He ran a finger down my spine as he continued to whisper, “Such a pretty puppy.” I growled deep in my chest violently jerking away from him. Anger flashed over him, “Behave bitch!” He grabbed at my already forsaken shirt and ripped it leaving my back exposed. The group turned towards us, Papa’s eyes widened as our eyes met for the first time. I kept my lips tight as I stared at him, never breaking eye contact. There was that look again that I saw in Nana’s eyes, but I was still unwavered. The man behind me whistled, “Well I’ll be damned pretty pup, you got a mangled up back. I mean look at these knife…marks—.” He paused tilting his head, he then rounded about me to my front and ripped one the ties around my thigh and tore open my pants until it was bare flesh. I still kept my eyes locked on Papa’s as he watched what this monster was doing. “Holy shit! That’s…my signature. I know my H when I see one…You?” He looked up to my stoic face studying it intently, my eyes glimmer rich rose gold back at him. He huffed in disbelief, “Why didn’t I see it sooner. I remember those eyes. Just like your fathers, wow, just wow, you’re alive!”

He stood up and yanked the pelt off the young man and tossed it at my feet, “Say hello to your pops.” My eyes broke from Papa’s and stared at the pelt before me partially in the water. I felt tears brimming in my eyes, how cruel, how cruel could these people get? He chuckled noticing my distraught disposition. He crouched before me again, stepping on the pelt with his muddy boots, “You’re going to be joining him soon.”

That was the straw that broke the camels back. How dare they desecrate the body of my father! How dare they treat me like this! I lunged forth, my lower half no longer restrained and sunk my fangs into his bicep and dug in deep until I was sure my teeth clanked against bone. The room was filled with deafening screams. I was ripped off him in an instant, the teen was screaming, “Dad!”

I spit out the man’s tainted blood at his face. The man retaliated by lunged at me punching me like I was a rag doll. The pain was instant as he swung right across my face, then my chest and residual areas he felt were neglected. He spat drool in my face as if he was a snake spitting venom, “Daughter like father.”

I laughed. He’s right. I’m like my father, a fighter. I won’t give up, especially not in his presence.

The son pulled his father back away from me. I must’ve hit a major artery and the man was paling fast as I watched him being drug out. They rushed out of the room whining like piglets; nearly everyone filtered out of the room to help except for Papa, Jared and two hunters. I was far worse off, but the wolf in me made me stronger than these pathetic people who claimed themselves humans.

Funny how the giants fall when they step on rose thorns.

Papa rushed towards me, done with this petty game, but the remaining Hunters held him back upon a single finger raise command from Jared. The game just became more interesting for Jared.

Jared cooed, “You’ve grown soft old man. You’ve already taken this bitch’s father. What’s stopping us from taking her life too? She should die.”

Papa roughly jerked out of the low-level Hunters grasps and came toe to toe with his son, “Don’t you dare speak to me that way. You know I didn’t send that command, I did not kill them, I didn’t want any of this, whatever the Hunters have become. That traitor who’s in line now, he destroyed the name of the Hunters. We Hunters are the peace keepers of the supernatural, not murders.”

I whipped my head up, mouth going dry. The man who…

Jared scoffed, “Your weak politics made us weak, no one respected us because of you! You bring shame to The Hunters.”

Papa tried, “No, Jared, you have it wrong. You don’t have to do this. Think for yourself!”

Jared commanded the room turning away from his father to face me, “Chain him up too.”

Papa’s eyes narrowed, the look of betrayal crossed his eyes at his own flesh and blood. A look I knew very well. The two Hunters grabbed Papa again, but Papa struck back like lightening. He raised his elbow and smashed it against a guy’s temple, knocking him out cold. The other Hunter released Papa and rushed over to Jared in attempt to protect his superior. Papa pulled out a pistol from his back pocket and pointed it at them. “The both of you are going to walk out of this room and leave like nothing ever happened. Are we clear?”

Jared sneered, “Put the gun down old man. Don’t disappoint Mom, Pops.”

Papa without blinking his eyes angled the gun at the hooligan’s foot and shot. My ears rung and body deathly rigor as the bang ricocheted off the walls. I came back to my senses when I noticed Jared didn’t sneer back, he was losing his machoism as his father pointed the gun directly at him. Papa spoke softly, “Go tell that Head Hunter of yours that you love and respect so much, that I’m not letting this shit pass. Go whine to him, because you ain’t my son.”

When the man that had his foot shot off starts drooling and panting through his slobbering lips Jared looked over to me, “This isn’t over. I’m not done with you yet.”

The two of them limped out of the room, leaving me alone with Papa. He kept the gun facing the door until the footsteps were far enough. My heart was racing realizing we were alone. The words from earlier that were almost in passing coming back like a cement truck. Papa was the leader of the Hunters. I squirmed in my spot, the chains above me rattling, despite the pain that radiated throughout my body as I moved. I’m finally feeling the effects of the abuse on my body. I whined as I squirm away from Papa, I put my knees over my father’s pelt and dragged it with me.

Papa spoke softly, “Aure, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you…never again. I should have never hurt you. I did it to protect you. I know I’m asking a lot but trust me here…yank down on the chain.”

I stuttered, “What?”

He pointed his eyes and raised the gun up again and I yanked my hands towards me, obeying immediately. He aimed gun and shot at the chain three times. I flinched at the ugly sounds and the chain snapped. My cuffed hands fell into my lap. My hands were free but the cuffs still hung around my wrist with a chain link fringes. My nerves lit up as blood was rushing back into my limbs. He walked over to me, pocketing his gun and helped me up. I groaned and whined when he touched bruising flesh and my legs burned from kneeling so long. He murmured, “Whoa there, its going to be okay kiddo, I got you.”

He adjusted my clothing and brushed the hair out of my face, “Aure, look, there’s so much I should say to you, but we gotta get you out of here. I’ll take you home. I’m not good with this whole comforting thing, but Nana can take care of that.”

I pulled out of his embrace finding my footing, “No, I won’t go with you back there. I found a pack. I have…a family.”

“Oh,” he nodded in understanding. “I’ll bring you to there then, I’ll take you home.” There was an awkward pause, unspoken words hanging in the air, “Come on, let’s go.”

He took my hand, but I stopped him, “Not without my father.”

He nodded and let me stumble over to pick up my father’s pelt. We walked out of the room into the hallway, the cobblestone theme still continued out here. He pulled me along to follow him, I grunted at his surprisingly fast pace. It was hard to keep up when my ribs were edging at me. “Come on Aure, we’re almost there.” We turned around a corner and a brigade of men blocked off the hallway.

“Will, you look who it is! The dishonorable Ex-Head Hunter, Sir you’ve come back to visit…and you have a prisoner with you.” A tall man with numerous pelts hanging off his shoulders like a coat rack stood at the center. Jared stood directly behind the man, he really did tattle tale on his father.

God, the smell of death was overwhelming.

“Stand down Head Hunter, you will let me pass by.” Papa stood in front of me slightly.

The man chuckled, “Oh you will pass by, but not with her.” The man pointed to me. Papa’s hand tightened around mine.

“No.” Papa voice was firm. He may be old, but the vigor was still there in him.

“Suit yourself.” The men started inching forward. I looked behind us, and the wall of people started closing in. I looked at Papa and underneath his stoic face I could smell the fear. I had to think fast. If I shifted I would be better off, my wounds would hold up better and I’d be able to fight off some of these guys. We were being corner, I whispered to Papa, “I’m going to shift and take theses guys on, I’m going to mow forward. I need you to defend me, can you handle some of these guys?”

He harshly whispered back, “No, you’re too injured as is, I’m going to shot and they should back off. You can escape.”

I nearly rolled my eyes, I’m not letting history repeat itself, “Look, we need to save all the bullets we can. I’m going to shift, and I need you to trust me.” I knew these people were strong…in numbers, but if I cut them down that would give us an upper hand. I had my eyes locked on the Head hunter. I tightened the strings of the pelt around my shoulders and counted down, “3…2…1!” I couldn’t let myself be taken so easily.

I let the shift take over, the chains followed me still and weighed heavy around my wrist. I ran straight for the five men lined like a brigade at the other end. I crashed into the other end and whipped my chains around striking anyone it would land on. The odds were hopeless, but my chain was able to reach farther than my limbs. I took out two in one swing. I heard gunshots from behind me as Papa manned the other end. When I found an opening, I barked back to Papa.

“They’re getting away!” One of the men shouted in our direction.

I wasn’t large, but I could support Papa’s weight. I crouched down and tugged on his shirt. We could get away faster this way. He understood and got on and held on tight. I sprinted, an abused chain clanked against the floor and broke off serving its purpose. He gave me directions to turn at different corners, the Hunters were hot on our trail. We made it out through a back entryway, I noticed we were somewhere in the woods. None of the trees or scents from the area around me were familiar.

Papa’s truck was parked not too far off, he shouted, “Get to the truck!” I sprinted off towards the vehicle, but just before we made it gun shot rung out. I halted to a stop as the tires whined as the wheels depressurized. My fear was rekindled tenfold, my body shouting at itself move, move, please move! Papa pointed ahead, “Keep going Aure!” I kept sprinting into the tree line, even if his weight was starting to become heavy I kept going. We had to get away.

“Moon goddess, if you are real, please, let us get away.” I chanted to myself to distract myself from the demons behind me. Twigs and unkept shrubbery broke underneath me as I raced past through the fog. I could hear my heart in my ears and Papa’s panting grunts whenever I hit bumpy terrain. The shouts were still very near. Hunters were emerging and keeping up besides us. I changing up our direction each time I’d catch someone in my peripheral.

I whimpered as I heard the whizzing of arrows overhead; the sound was more unnerving than the actual devices. I tried flattening, but that only slowed me down as the arrows zinged by. I heard Papa grunt and withhold a scream before I notice an arrow flying overhead and log itself into a tree. His grip tightens around my mane. I was terrified of what was to come if I did slow. I made a split-second decision and picked up speed, the worse thing to do would be to stop.

I came to a clearing and the Hunters were already standing at the other end. It was like I was being funneled here, I never escaped I played right into their hands. I veered to a stop, snarling as I realized I was surrounded. I angled my body in such a way that Papa would be the best covered from any attacks.

The head hunter stepped out of the crowd of at least twenty individuals. He loaded his gun with purple bullets and cocked it back, “Enough, it’s over pup. There’s nowhere left to run. Let’s put you out of your misery.”

He hiked up the gun onto his shoulder and readied the trigger. I waited for the shot, but it never came. I hesitantly opened my eyes as the Head Hunter lowered the gun, then I felt it—them. In my hazy state of mind, I felt their presence tingling in my bones.

Massive silhouettes emerged from the rolling fog and wild, red eyes reflected at me. I could recognize those eyes anywhere, they belonged to Namjoon. The big wolves took light with Namjoon in the center as the number of wolves seemed to go infinitely in triangle formation from him, the epicenter. Alpha Kim was to his right, equally as large, and daunting. The two shifted into their human forms, but the feral look was still in their eyes. Namjoon whispered my name, but my sensitive ears caught it as we stared back at eachother.

Namjoon wanted to run to me, but he knew any sudden moves could mean an end. He looked me over for the briefest second and anger filled him seeing the bruises, the wet blood and the chain around my wrist. He looked at the sardonic man with contempt, but that word was too light for the weight that Namjoon felt. The guy was now in his terrain, these woods were his, and he was going to show them it was rightfully so.

I remained still in this no man land between the two clans.

Namjoon growled, the hair on his back raised, “You!”

The Head Hunter laughed, “Such eloquent words from you Namjoon.”

Alpha Kim tried to reason, “You have taken and hurt one of our own, a Luna at that. You’ve broken constitutional law Head Hunter.”

Head Hunter bellowed in laughter, “Fuck the law! Fuck the Charter! The law oppressed us and belittled us, why should I respect it. I’m done and tired of dealing with you filthy dogs and your law-abiding ways. I’m glad you’ve finally shown up, now you can collect her after were done, if you live that is. Watch me end you all here tonight! Hunters, AWOOOO!!”

The Head Hunter raised his gun to me again, “I’m starting with this one.”

The whole pack howled as Namjoon shifted back with a sickening fast cracking and adjusting of bone that carried a near heathen roar. How dare he try to harm his mate!! His massive figure sprinted forth, snarling, drool slipping from him gums. He jumped over Papa and I, eclipsing the Moon above, and crashed into the enemy. Furious that someone had hurt his mate, someone had dared to hurt me!

I was reminded of the rumors of the strength and ferocity of the Kim family. Why they were the leaders of the packs of this Nation. The war had begun, a perfect pandemonium.

It all was so sudden, blurs of furs and men tumbled together. I saw jaws of men and beast alike snapping at one another. I sprinted out of the eye of the storm, I had to get Papa out of the way and somewhere safe. I dodged strikes and blows until I could see a safe spot. I crouched down to let Papa off, setting him against a wide tree. I knew despite the strength he showed, he was at his maximum. He truly put himself on the line—for me. I nudged him with my muzzle when I noticed his eyes drooping. I didn’t want him to fall asleep on me. Papa looked at me, truly looked at me for the first time, the scars, patches, all of it. He reached up and scratched my head lovingly. He hissed when he hyperextended his injured shoulder to pet me. When he pulled his hand back it was covered in my wet blood. I whimpered at the reality. The gentle moment was fleeting, reminding me that in fact, everything wasn’t alright.

I heard panting behind us and I whipped around to look at the person that had followed us. Jared stood there with his hunter knife out in his bandaged hand, “I told you I’d be back.”

I limped into guarding position over Papa. Jared continued to slowly step towards us, so I pulled at the strings and untightened the knot of my father’s pelt cloak and let it settle over Papa’s lap. I stepped forward the cold night air hitting my patchy pelt, but my body was running like a furnace as it was healing itself. I tucked my tail between my legs and showed my fangs in a snarl. I didn’t want to fight. Papa coughed, “Jared. Stop, just stop!”

Jared screamed, “Stay out of this old man!”

Jared pulled out a vial of wolfsbane and doused his knife in it. It dripped off the sharp edge like syrup. It felt like I was watching it in slow motion as the thick globs rolled off in oversaturation. My pupils dilated in fear, he really wasn’t going to stop for anything until he got what he wanted. My hearing rung out and I heard the voice in the back of my head again, “Trust me Aure, let me help you. I need you to believe in the Moon. Believe in her.” I shook my head, but the words kept ringing louder and louder, “Believe! You have to believe!”

I closed my eyes succumbing to the assured comforting voice, and I hummed the song again. I let myself believe. When I opened my eyes again Jared faltered in his aggressive steps. My eyes were burning a near cooper, my body felt lighter, I felt like I was walking on moonlight. There was no fear, no irreconcilable smirk on my muzzle. I am a Luna.

He twirled the knife around in his hand before he sprinted for me. I jumped for it, letting him crash into a tree. I had no intention of killing him, that is not who I am. I am not a murder, I’m not them. There is no pleasure in pain of others suffering. I let him glide about me, I wanted to wear him out and conserve my energy. After a few minutes he was panting and slashing his knife about in desperation and I hadn’t even lifted a paw yet. I allowed him to get close, and I used my shoulder to knock him against a tree. He tried taking jabs at my throat, screaming in my face. He was sweating profusely, his bandage hand was red, but he didn’t stop charging at me with his jaw wide open. I didn’t anticipate his two step my chain swing coming up short and he chomped down hard on my ear. I howled and knocked my thick skull against his inebriating him senseless. He stumbled, and I took the chance pinned him to the ground.

His back ached from the harsh impact, his arms no longer felt taunt as they should, while his lower half became unresponsive from overuse. He still waved the knife at me splattering his face in specks of purple poison, but I knocked it out of his hand and the blade sunk down into the ground by his temple. He jerked about for his knife, growling at me in frustration. He arched his neck and bit onto the blade of the knife and tugged it out of the ground. His tongue refused the taste of wolfsbane as he bit on his knife and spit up letting the drool roll down his cheeks.

I loomed over his body growling him into submission. I needed him to submit. I wasn’t going to hurt him.

Papa choked, “Jared, please!” It broke my heart hearing the weak strain in Papa’s voice.

Jared kept growling back at me, unwilling to give up, unwilling to see that he was only hurting himself. I leaned down eye to eye, tooth to tooth and growled back. He kept going until his voice was thinning out. I pulled back and smashed my forehead against his temple knocking him out cold. I made sure I didn’t hurt him too much and I bit onto his shirt and dragged him near his father.

I felt a sudden rush of deep set anger and I knew that wasn’t from me, it was Namjoon. It was as if the mere thought of Namjoon summoned him as my eyes instantly attached to him and Alpha Kim fighting off a heap of men. Namjoon was head to toe with the Head Hunter. The ferocity emitting from him in that frozen second of a standoff was numbing before they were back at eachothers throats. Namjoon dodged the edge of the sword in one fluid motion. The enemy swerved with an immediate counter attack. The Head Hunters eyes were menacing, hooded with anger, rage, making his features undistinguishably to a human. He raised his sword and the clash of steel with the soil blanketed Joon in a wave of dust. The force of the strength of the plunge vibration resonated even reached my ears. It was unfair, four extra sets of hands tried to seize Namjoon as they all cave into him like ants.

I lunged forward, unthinking of the consequences, jumping into the heart of it all. I jumped onto the back of a Hunter and the guy shouted, “What the hell!” I let my body fall backwards and his body came tumbling with as I barrel rolled and flung him off with my hind legs. The thud that followed rewarded me with groans and no movement. I had the decency to feel guilty. I moved on to the next, determined to help as much as I could, even if my instincts were telling me to flee.

I heard the sick sound of flesh ripping. I felt like I was gutted when the howl echoed in my ears. I turned around, my eyes set on a single being as I channeled the Moon one last time. With my jaw open and pushed the Head Hunter off Namjoon.

I knocked the knife out of his hand and we both tumbled through the fog. He crawled back onto all fours and landed punches across me as I nipped at him. I was losing energy fast. My head was hurting unbearably as I couldn’t keep up with his vicious fist. He stood up picking up his sword and laughed when I struggled to get back up, my muscles were beyond exhausted, “Not so strong now are you!”

I heavily panted, my body shifted back into my human form without any effort. I was panting as the Head Hunter stood above me. I crossed my arm over my chest as my clothing barely covering anything. “I don’t always need strength to win,” with my free hand I clenched my fist and scooped up the soil and pelted it at him. I took the window and attempted to swipe the knife out of his hand using the chain as an extension. I miscalculated the distance between us and he wrapped his hand around my waist tightly and slammed my back against his front. The syrupy blade was brought to my neck and everyone around us stopped.

Namjoon stumbled into our radius, the cut from his knife wasn’t deep but the wolfsbane left a sting. He barked ready to throw away the moral half of himself and let the nasty rumors come to life. The Head Hunter brought the knife closer to my throat in threat. His stomach was swimming as he saw the amount of blood caked and dried on different places of my body. The swelling and bruising on the different parts of my body.

Yet, I still decided to stand tall. I swallowed hard feeling the realistic threat as it chipped away at the peach fuzz on my neck. I whined out, “N-Namjoon, just do it.”

The Head Hunter tightened his grip around my waist, “Cry out, it’ll make it all the more sweeter.” Namjoon’s eyes widened as the fog settled and he saw Papa standing behind the Head Hunter with one arm holding his bleeding shoulder, the pelt hanging over his shoulder while his other hand had a gun raised and shot without hesitation.

The world seemed to quite in that second, Papa mocked, “Like taking candy from a baby.”

The Head Hunter jolted with the incredible force, screaming as he let go of me to save himself. I stumbled forth and collapsed onto my knees. Namjoon shifted and ran up to me collecting me in his arms pulling away me at a safer distance. Alpha Kim lunged forth and yelled out commands, “Detain him, don’t let anyone escape!”

The Hunters who once seemed valiant for their caused backed away, their leader had fallen. The other members of the pack circled around them and they all backed themselves into a tight circle.

Namjoon trembling hands cupped my dirty face as tears streamed down his face, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I reacted. I didn’t mean any of it. It wasn’t about you. It was—God, I’m so glad I found you.” His lips settled between my brows as he murmured his apologizes and he peppered kisses after each sentence.

I pulled away from him taking his cheeks between my palms, “Namjoon, it’s okay, I’m sorry too.”

I pulled away when I heard someone collapse to the floor, “Papa!” I rushed over to Papa settled his head in my lap keep his head elevated. He needed treatment and soon. “Namjoon, please, we need to help him.”

Namjoon looked over his shoulder, no questions asked, “You three take him to the pack house, one of you run ahead and warn Mama Luna that more will be arriving.”

I brushed the hair out of his face, “They’re going to take care of you Papa, I promise.”

He smiled lazily at me, “I never got to tell you this, but I’m really happy that I had you for a daughter. I’m just an old fool.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, “Don’t say things like that. I’ll see you soon. I have to hear Nana scold you.”

He laughed and winced at the pain. He handed me back the pelt with a squeeze of his hand over mine, “He’d be so proud of you.”

The members were gentle as they picked him up and took him away. Seojun smiled at me, his face was bruising and scratched, “Don’t worry Luna, we’ll take care of him.”

Namjoon squatted down and with little to no effort broke the chain around my wrist and helped me off the ground. My weak legs were unstable, the amount of pain I was in was beginning to feel unrealistic. But being surrounded by the scent and feeling of him again stated something deeper in me. He was here. He came to save me.

“What do we do now Alpha?” One of the members called out to Namjoon, although he expected his father to respond, the Alpha was looking to him to answer. Namjoon and I stood in front of the pack, everyone was alive standing proud, he turned to address them, “The injured will also be escorted back with someone. I want the stronger one’s half in front and in the back. Get back safe, that is my priority. Everyone fought well, the police will deal with the rest of them. Let’s move.”

The Head Hunter was manhandled as he was jerked to his feet and forced to walk behind Alpha Kim.

Namjoon pulled me closer, his gaze softened as adoration filled his teary eyes. It was indescribable the way my heart sang. The way my wolf was singing in delight. He leaned down and pressed his chapped lips against mine for a brief chaste kiss. He rested his forehead against mine, “Y/N, Aure, I’m never letting go. Never.” I nodded and whined when he caressed my temple. I was beginning to feel drowsy, my mind was swimming. He could see the haze in my eyes and cupped my face lightly with his trembling hands, “Oh God, I’m sorry, it’s okay. Stay with me Aure, we’re going to get you back home. Stay with me now.”

He shifted and let me drape across his back. I avoided putting pressure on certain areas, but the morphine of being in Namjoon’s presence made it all bearable. I clutched onto his hackle with my father’s pelt safely tucked to me. He lifted up and began trotting back home.

I’m coming back home.

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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years ago

Text

Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 1

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Word Count: 4,018

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ope…” Jax sighed as he watched his best friend tighten the straps of his saddle bag after double checking that he had everything for his road trip. “You sure about this, brother?”

“I just need to get away for a while.” Opie said as he grabbed a fresh pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his kutte and packed it on the heel of his palm. “Mom’s sick, and I promised her I’d go see her when I got out…”

“I get it.” Jax said with a nod as he took an offered cigarette from his best friend’s pack. “It’s just… you just got out this morning.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Ope snapped a little shortly around the filter of his cigarette. He sighed and ran his hands through his long hair to pull it back for the ride. “Sorry, Jax.”

“It’s OK.” He agreed with a nod as he pat Opie’s arm.

“Look, I just spent five years in a locked box, staring at the same fucking view day in and day out. I need to clear my fucking head. I’ll be back at the table in no time.”

“Alright.” Jax said with a nod as he handed Opie his helmet. “Just ride safe, brother. Tell Mary… well, I wouldn’t tell her anything from me.” He chuckled as the pair exchanged a hug.

“Yea, I’m surprised she even wanted me to come out there.” Opie laughed as he straddled his Harley for the first time in five years. He let out a sigh of relief as he revved the engine and kicked up his kickstand. Jax stepped back as Opie walked backwards down his driveway to put Charming and his time in prison in his rear view for a while.

——

‘Stupid fucking job.’ You thought as you stood behind the diner counter, staring through the glass doors at the empty parking lot in front of the building between the lunch and dinner ‘rushes’. ‘’s’not even a damn job. Just a waste of my fucking life.’

“You want something for lunch?” Cam, one of your father’s MC prospects called out as he threw a burger on the grill for himself.

“I’ll make a salad in a bit.” You sighed as you stood up straight and grabbed your coffee mug to refill it. “Ugh, is it fucking three o’clock yet?!” You groan loudly as the diner door opened.

“Last I checked, it was only little after two.” A male voice you didn’t recognize said behind you over the jingle of the bells on the door. You glanced over your shoulder as you put the black handled coffee pot away and cocked your eyebrow at the mountain of a man stranger that walked through the door.

“A new face.” You said as you turned in your spot and put your coffee down on the bar. “Sit anywhere you like, hun.” He nodded his head as you handed him a menu.

“Waitin’ on my mom.” He said as he grabbed a chair at the bar in front of you.

“Oh.” You said with a nod as you leaned back against the back counter. “Who’s your mom? I’ve lived in this shit hole town long enough to know everyone here. Coffee?”

“Beer.” He said as he pointed to the taps behind you. “Her name’s Mary.”

“Mary Winston?” You asked as you grabbed a glass from the shelves under the bar. “Well I’ll be damned. That would make you her not so little Harry.”

“Opie.” He corrected as you set his brew down on the counter. “So does the whole town know about me?”

“Just the ones with tits.” You teased as you picked up your coffee. “So I’d avoid the beauty salon, that dress shop on Vine, and just to be safe, the grocery store down the block. Better yet, just avoid women kind everywhere in this town.” He smiled at you as he used his thumb to wipe away the foam from on his mustache.

“Cute.”

“Thanks.” You said with a nod as you took a sip of your coffee. “I’m (Y/N). And just so you know, your mom was already here for lunch. She comes at 11:45 on Fridays.”

“Fuck.” He sighed as he ran his hand over his bandana covered head.

“She doesn’t know you’re coming, does she?” You asked. He shook his head as he rocked his cup on the bar.

“I just needed to get out of California. Figured I’d come see my mom.” You nodded your head and started to choose your next words wisely when Cam beat you to the punch.

“She’s gunna be pissed!” He laughed behind you, causing you to grab the soda gun and spray him with water through the servers window.

“Ignore him.” You said as Cam swore at you and stormed out of the kitchen to have a cigarette. “Let’s go talk. I need a cigarette anyways.”

“You’re not gunna get fired for that shit?” He asked as he grabbed his beer and followed after you.

“My dad owns the place.” You said as you shoved the diner phone in your pocket and grabbed your coffee. “So I could almost literally get away with murder here.” Opie nodded as he ducked through the door you were holding open for him. You pulled a cigarette from your crumpled pack and jumped up on the hood of your pick up truck. “I don’t mean to pry here but… when was the last time you talked to your mom? She’s said maybe three words about you in the six years she’s lived here. Thanks.” You said as he lit your cigarette for you before leaning against the truck beside you.

“About that amount of time ago.” He sighed with a glance over at you. “She uh… she wrote me off when I got my last felony.”

“Ouch. Assault?” You asked as you looked over at him.

“Arson.”

“Fire. Nice.” You said with a slow nod.

“She didn’t think so.” He said as he exhaled his drag toward the diner sign above your heads. He glanced over at you as he ashed his cigarette, finished his beer, and took another drag. “What’s your story?”

“My story?” You repeated as you looked over at him with a shake of your head. “Ain’t worth tellin’.”

“Now that’s a lie.” He countered as he put the empty glass on the curb, turned in his spot and leaned forward until his arms were resting on the hood of your truck.

“You think so?” You asked around your cigarette as you leaned back on the windshield and looked up at the sky. “Trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t no one from poo-dunk North Carolina has a story worth a grain of salt.”

“Oh, I beg to differ on that one.” You smiled and rolled your head on the glass to look over at him.

“Trust me…” You said as the distant rumble of motorcycles echoed off the mountains through the small town, signaling your father’s return home after a long week away. “It’s much simpler that way.” Opie nodded and turned his head toward the noise and stood up a little straighter as you flicked your cigarette across the lot. “If you’re planning on seeing your mom, I suggest waiting until tomorrow. She goes to the next city over to the casino on Friday nights with the other old biddy’s in town. No hotels close by really. There's a B and B down that way but the lady has like a hundred cats.”

“Fuck, I hate cats.” He said as you sat up and grabbed your coffee mug to go back to work. You nodded as you pulled a pen from your pocket and turned his arm toward you.

“I fucking hate cats, too.” You said as you scribbled your cell phone number on the crook of his arm before your father, Negan, and the rest of the Saviors pulled into the lot for a late lunch and to take over the diner for the rest of the night. “Head down to the book store down the block, wait an hour, then call me so you can follow me to my place for the night. If I don't answer, wait ‘til I call back. Trust me, you want to avoid my dad for as long as possible. He’s a dick on his best days.” Opie nodded as he stood up and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

“For the beer.” He said as he handed you a ten. “See you soon, (Y/N).” You smiled at him and stayed put for a moment to watch him head over to his bike as Negan pulled in on your other side followed by the rest of his MC. You bit your lip and smiled when Opie winked at you and pulled out of the spot next to your truck as Negan came around the front of your truck to look at his only child.

“The fuck is that?” He demanded as he watched Opie take off down the street. You looked over at him, innocently and shrugged.

“He was looking for his mama.” You told him as you scooted off your truck as the girls that ran the night shift pulled in behind the club thankfully early. “Welcome home, Daddy.” He nodded as you kissed his cheek, grabbed the empty beer glass, and headed inside with Opie’s smile in mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So this is your house?” Opie asked as he looked up at your quaint three bedroom cottage.

“It looks much better inside.” You promised as you looked around to make sure none of your ‘neighbors’ were home in the private, asymmetrical cul de sac the club basically owned since they were the only people that owned houses on that ten house private street. You both looked over at a loud bang and a smile pulled at the corner of your lips when an inhuman screaming came from your home. “I hope you like dogs.”

“That’s not a fucking dog.” He said as you headed toward the front door and your weird dog. “That sounds like something’s dying.”

“Oh, it’s a dog alright.” You laughed as you pushed open the door to your open floor plan living room and kitchen. “Get back. No, get back!” You snapped as your Boston Terrier, Creature, tried to run out the front door. You crouched down as you walked and playfully pushed your dog back across the wood floors so your guest wouldn’t be attacked with kisses if he didn’t want to be.

“What is it?” Opie asked as he set his saddle bag and leather jacket down on the couch.

“His name is Creature.” You said as you headed straight to the back door to let your pet out into the fenced in back yard. “I saw him at an adoption thing and knew his ugly mug wasn’t going to get him adopted. So I brought him home out of pity.” Opie nodded as you called him toward you with a drag of your finger so you could make sure your pup didn’t dig his way out of the fence. “So I don’t have many rules here because I just don’t fucking care but they’re pretty simple.” You said as you pulled open the wooden gate that lead to the stairs to the yard. “Rule number one, you drink my beer, you replace it as long as you are safe to ride. Store’s two blocks down the road on the left. Rule number two, no smoking cigarettes in the house. This rule is never abided by by my father and his goon squad but it’s a rule. So if you choose to break it as well and pass up on these amazing views Daddy paid for, at least open a damn door. Weed is fine indoors. No doors need to be opened.”

“Simple enough.” Ope said as he pulled up the top of your hot tub and dipped his hand in the warm water. “Jesus. This shit is making me not want to go back to California.”

“I don’t see the point of leaving Boone.” You said as you sat down at your table and kicked your feet up on the wood. You gestured toward the gorgeous view of the mountain ranges behind your house and looked over at him with a smile. “Who would want to leave this place?”

“Not me.” He said with a nod as he lit his cigarette and sat down beside you. He looked out at the view as he unzipped his sweater, making your stomach and your smile drop.

“Shit, put that back on or take the kutte off.” You hissed as you dropped your legs and looked over at your dad’s back yard to make sure none of his club members were over there. “You’re in Saviors territory.”

“I’m what?” He asked as you yanked the fronts of his sweater closed.

“It’s the MC here.” You said with fear in your eyes. “They run the south and the east coast. We’re the reason that the Sons can’t move out of New England and the West coast. Fuck, that’s why Mary hasn’t said more about you.”

“How do you know about the Sons?” He asked as he zipped his hoodie back up and sat up a little straighter. You sighed and shook your head as you searched his gorgeous hazel eyes.

“Because I’m the founding president of the Saviors’ daughter.”

“Fuck me.” He groaned as he looked over at the house you had been looking at.

“Look, you’re fine.” You said as you scrambled to find a way to help him out in enemy territory. “Just take off the kutte, and put it under a bed. You can grab it on your way out of town. And it’s chilly enough here that wearing that jacket to cover any ink is acceptable. Just keep to yourself, don’t rock the boat, and don’t mention the Sons. You’ll make it outta here alive.” He nodded his head as you grabbed your cigarette and inhaled deeply.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked as he reached into his jacket for his cigarettes since his had burned out. You looked over at him as you got up to let Creature back on to the porch.

“Because you have a kindness in your eyes that I don’t see much in the locals in this town because of who I am. I build my opinions of people on the story their eyes tell. Yours say they’ve seen some shit but that’s not the person you would want to be if it wasn’t expected of you.” He nodded his head slowly as he looked down at the little beast snorting at his ankles and a huffed laughed escaped his lips.

“Fuck, he is really fucking ugly.”

“Told you.” You said as you put out your cigarette. “So you still gunna stick around?”

“For a while.” He said with a shrug as he pat his thigh, letting Creature happily jump up on his lap. “Gotta experience the view of the stars from your hot tub before I leave.”

“Of course you do.” You laughed as you got up from your chair. “Come on, we gotta go put your bike in my pathetic excuse for a garage and hide any other Sons evidence you got.”

——

“What’s your opinion on being a legacy?” Opie asked as he built up the fire in your living room fireplace while you prepared dinner. You shrugged your shoulder as you skewered a piece of top sirloin on a skewer and grabbed a red pepper slice to add next.

“Over rated.” You said with a glance up at him. “I am definitely not the club but being Negan’s daughter puts this stigma over me that I can’t stand. Most people around here avoid me like the plaque out of fear but I’m actually a really nice girl.” You looked up at him as you tossed your begging dog a small piece of carrot, causing him to snort loudly through his squished in nose to devour it as fast as possible. “I can’t get a date to save my damn life because most guys are terrified of my father.”

“Yea, I get that.” He said as he stuck his hand in the fire place to quickly adjust the log he had just put in before it was engulfed in flames. “My Dad was one of the First Nine. As a kid, everyone in the neighborhood avoided me and my boy, Jax. Almost like we were tainted. My birthday parties as a kid consisted of a bunch of old, drunk dudes and crow eater’s kids.” Huffed through your nose as you finished the last meat skewer and moved on to the shrimp and scallops ones.

“Negan’s harlots.” You said with a nod. “Skanks. Whores. Gold diggers…”

“All of the above.” He agreed as he set one more log on the pile and sat back on the wood floor. “Did teachers single you out?”

“In my younger years.” You said with a laugh. “But then I started living up to the expectations they put on me. I used to flip desks and throw shit. I would swear up a storm every chance I got, and I can’t tell you how many times I told male and female teachers to suck my dick. I finally just dropped out my freshman year and got my GED a year later just to avoid the stigma people were putting on me. But, like it did you, I eventually embraced those shoes. I’m a biker’s daughter. Nothing I can do about it. Cross me, and I’ll bash your fucking head in with a baseball bat. Play nice, and I’m a fucking sweetheart.”

“Well fuck.” Opie laughed as he got up off the floor and pulled up his dark blue jeans. “I thought that was just a guy thing. I tend to blow shit up if you cross me.” You laughed and shook your head as you both looked over at the rumble of a motorcycle outside. Your laughter died in your throat as you set down the last skewer on the plate to take out to the grill.

“Fuck.” You sighed as Creature went running over to the door (and accidentally slammed into it like he always did) to say hi to your dad and who ever else he brought with him. “Like I said, nothing about the Sons.” Opie nodded as the sounds of boots walking down the porch from the driveway to your front door played an ominous song over Creature’s screaming barks. Your visitor threw on his jacket to hide the bottom of a reaper tattoo on his right arm and got it zipped just as your father threw open the front door. He hesitated for a moment, glaring daggers at Opie as you grabbed a couple beers from the fridge for him, his Sergeant at Arms, DJ, his VP, Simon, and a tag along soldier named Dwight.

“The fuck are you?” He demanded as he used his boot to keep your dog inside for you.

“Dad, this is Opie.” You said as you popped the top of his beer and held it out to him. “He’s crashing in my guest bedroom until his mom’s back from the casino tomorrow.” Your visitor stood up a little straighter and respectfully took a step toward your father as the four club members glared at the unfamiliar, bearded man in your living room. You let the stand off go on for a moment before you sighed and stepped around the counter to get to your dad with his beer.

“Stop it.” You said as you pushed his arm and looked up at him. “Not in my house.” His eyes darted down to look at you as you held up his beer with an innocent smile. “I was just about to put dinner on the grill. You staying?” He nodded his head as he cupped the back of your head, and kissed your forehead.

“Gotta spend time with my little princess.” He replied as he took a swig of his beer and stepped around you. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Opie.” Your guest said as he offered the president his hand. “Just passing through.”

“I’d sure fucking hope so.” Negan said as he simply looked at Opie’s hand on his way to the kitchen to cook dinner. “Wouldn’t want something to fucking happen to ya.”

“Dad, quit!” You snapped again. “I promise you, I will kick you out.”

“You fucking think so.” Negan grumbled as he grabbed the tray of skewers and headed toward the back door. “Come on, mutt.” You rolled your eyes as Creature happily followed your dad to the porch to go with him down to the grill.

“Like I said.” You repeated as you put your hand on Opie’s arm and gave it a gently squeeze. “He’s a dick. Wanna smoke before dinner?” He nodded slowly and followed you toward the back porch. You glanced over at Dwight with your eyebrows raised as he tried to follow the other three men outside. “Rice and corn ain’t gunna fucking cook itself, D.” Simon laughed and grabbed two beers from the counter as you dipped outside.

“Prospect?” Opie whispered where only you could hear. You shook your head and made sure DJ and Simon were out of earshot before moving your chair closer to his.

“Patch, unfortunately.” You breathed as you looked at Dwight in the kitchen window. “He’s a snake. Saved my and my dad’s ass in a shoot out ‘bout fifteen years back as a prospect and used that as a bargaining chip to get his patch. So now he’s kept on a short leash, and treated like a new prospect when there’s not another one in the room.”

“Hazing a patch. Nice.” He said as he sparked his lighter and held it out for you.

“Such a gentleman.” You said as you lit your smoke and sat back in your chair. “So what’s Charming like?”

“Hot.” He laughed as he moved his arm when you kicked your sock covered feet up on his chair beside him. “Probably looks about the same as it does here.” You nodded in agreement as you looked over your shoulder at your dad’s booming laugh.

“Do you ever want to leave? Like permanently?” He shrugged his shoulders and rested his arm on your crossed ankles.

“Could you turn your back on your family?” He countered as he searched your eyes in the setting sunlight. “It’s not that simple of an answer. The club sucks you in, claims your soul. You know as well as I do it’s not something you walk away from even if you want to.” You nodded in agreement as you finished a cigarette and pulled a joint from the pack. “I thought about it a lot in the box. Wondering if I could turn my back on my brothers, on the family that took me in when my mom walked away, and my old man. I wondered what life would be like if I blacked out my ink and faded away. Or just went Nomad and disappeared forever into the setting sun. But I don’t think I could walk away from the life.” You nodded your head slowly, completely understanding where he was coming from.

“I’d be scared he’d come find me.” You whispered. “I love it here but… well, you know.” Opie opened his mouth to respond but your father coming up the stairs silenced him.

“Keep your fucking hands off my daughter.” He growled on his way into the house. “Foods up in five.” You once again rolled your eyes and passed off the joint.

“Ignore his stupid demands.” You said as you brushed your toes against his elbow. “You wanna bend me over the fucking rail and fuck me until the sun comes up, go for it. Free country.”

“Honestly, I’d love to but I’m afraid I’d lose my fucking dick.”

“I’d protect you.” You giggled with a smile. “You seem worth protecting.”

Part 2

#Opie x Reader #Star Crossed Rivalry #Opie Winston x Reader

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queencatherynerhys · 7 years ago

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Taken - Part 3 TRR AU

A/N: Seriously, you guys, it’s amazing that you are keeping up with this series because oh my goodness I am a terrible person! I don’t know where these diabolical ideas come from! I love you guys! Thank you so much for the support. This is an amazing fandom! Please, please, don’t hate me!

Summary: Liam is furious. He is in the capitol, in the comfort of his palace while the love of his life is being held captive and tortured because of him. How will he and his friends handle this devastation?

Tag List: @captainkingliam @decisso @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @trianiasti @ranishajay

Previous Parts:

Part 1│ Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the materials used in this story!

Liam knows there will be no sleeping tonight. He sits on the edge of the bed in solitude, replaying the video in his head. The image of Catheryne’s contorted face is burned into his memory. He will never be able to erase it from his head no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much time passes. His entire being is racked with guilt. It’s my fault. I am the reason they are doing this to her. This damned crown has cost me more than I can endure. Maybe I should comply with their demands. I can abdicate and leave this fucking world of kissing nobles’ asses, diplomacy and assassins. Catheryne will be safe, but I know she wants me to fight back. That is what she would want me to do. She would say giving up is weakness, leaving my people to these coward’s clutches is unforgivable. She would never forgive me for taking the easy road, but how am I supposed to just sit here when I know she is out there suffering?! Some king I am!

Please, Catheryne, please hang on, my love. Be strong. I am coming for you. I promise I will not rest till I find you!

Meanwhile, Catheryne is thrown into a dark, damp holding cell. The only light being streamed from the barred window of her prison. Her eyes adjust to her surroundings. She notices an uncomfortable bed set up by the wall. She touches the wall and feels an uneven cold, rough structure, as if she’s being held in a stone cave. Where the hell am I? Her body aches from the torture she endured, but her mind races for a plan to escape somehow. I gotta get out of here! She runs to the bars of her jail and shakes it to find some sort of weakness in the structure, only to be met with empty hope.

“Don’t bother trying,” a weak voice says from across the dungeon. “There’s no way of escaping from this hell,” she can clearly hear the hopelessness in his tone. “Who…who are you?” she squeaks at the stranger. “Dr. Mallon, my name,” he replies as he limps into her view. He has a makeshift splint on his left leg. He is undoubtedly underweight, almost malnourished for his size. The feature that intimidates her the most is his eyes. They look so sunken, so empty, so broken. “I’m Catheryne,” she greets her cellmate. “I know who you are. They’ve been talking about you for weeks. Apparently, you’re the lady that captured the king’s heart. Looks like they’ve found his weakness,” he informs her. “If you don’t mind me asking, what…uhm…what happened to your leg?” she probes. “They broke it cause I refused to get out of my cell. Said if I don’t walk out, they’ll drag me out. I refuses and here I am.”

“Oh…” she is stunned and scared for the near future. What are they going to do to me? I…I don’t think I can handle more of torture. “One more question, if you will, how long…how long have you been held here?”

“Two weeks, said they need me for something, still don’t know why though,” he answers, his voice quavering. Two weeks? He’s only been here two weeks and he already looks like that? What is going to happen to me in here? Liam please…please find me quick! I don’t know how long I’ll last in here.

A week has passed since the gang’s return to the palace. Liam refused to address the press until he had a handle on the search team for Catheryne and Drake’s medical situation. The doctors in Vienna said that the bullet was a through and through, and it didn’t puncture any major organs. He should be arriving soon.

Liam is in his study with a bottle of Sunset Rum, one of the strongest liquor in the world. He needs something to take the edge off. He hasn’t slept at all, mostly afraid of the nightmares he’s been having since the video last week, and it was always the same dream.

It starts off as they normally do. He’s in the ballroom during the Homecoming Ball. He is giving his speech and introducing Catheryne as the new duchess in court and his future queen. He couldn’t be happier than that moment. He could finally declare his love for her. Then, that terrifying moment when all hell breaks loose. The lights turn off and the crowd surges around him. The gunshots have terrified the guests turning them into a panic mob.

His security team surrounds him, following protocol, but all he can think of is Catheryne. “Catheryne! Where is Catheryne? Guards, protect her!” The light flickers back on, blinding him momentarily. Then, he sees her standing not even 30 feet away from her. She sees the assassin pointing the gun at her. His greatest fear unfolding right before his very eyes. Catheryne, I have to get to her. He fights the attackers in front of him, hoping to make a path toward her. He hears the loud bang originating from the gun. NOOOO Catheryne!!! He stares at her, it’s as if time turned to slow motion. Pain, fear and anguish coursing through him, but then he sees Drake block the bullet from making it’s intended target. I must get to her. He uses all his energy to round off the remaining assassins. He allows himself to take a breath from the tragic accident that just occurred in his home.

Then, he hears her terrifying scream. “LIAM!! Help me!!” His eyes land on hers. She is lock on a chokehold and being dragged outside. He sprints to her aid, not giving a damn about his security’s protests. He hears them calling out from behind him.

He is in a dark hallway of the palace. Portraits of past ancestors lining the ornate wall. Five feet away from where he stands, Catheryne kneels as a captive. She is crying and sobbing on the floor. Her captor is holding a gun to her head behind her. “Please, I am begging you. Don’t do this. She has nothing to do with this! It’s me you want. Take me instead. Please. I will get on my knees and beg.” Liam falls to his knees. A king will fall to save his queen.

“It’s quite too late for that, King Liam. Look around you. For decades and centuries, you and your ancestors have corrupted this country. You don’t deserve to lead this kingdom. You are weak. Your ancestors are unworthy. Now, your precious future queen shall pay the price.”

Catheryne stares at him and mouths the words “I love you” before the assassin pulls the trigger, shattering his heart. “NOOOOOO!!!” he screams at the top of his lungs as he watches the life from her beautiful, perfect eyes disappear. He looks up to see that the man has disappeared; It doesn’t matter. His whole word just died in front of him. He sobs as he crawls to her lifeless body in front of him. She already feels so cold. “Catheryne, no, no, no. Please come back. Please, my queen!! NOOOOOOO!!” He cradles her head in his hands, shaking her fragile frame and holding her tightly against his chest. He cries harder when he sees her eyes, her lovely brown eyes, open and frozen in fear. He pushes the hair out of the way, revealing her gorgeous face. He stains it with his bloody hands. Her blood, so much blood. Blood spilled because of his crown. He continues to beg as he lives his nightmare,“I’m so sorry, Catheryne, I’m so sorry. Oh, my love, please don’t leave me! I am begging you! I love you! I love you so much! Please…please…”

He always wakes up with a jolt, his clothes soaked with sweat and his face covered with tears.

He paces the space around his study, shaking the terrible recollection away from his mind. I must stay focused! For her. He hears a knock on the door and he finishes the content in his cup before answering it. He opens to reveal Drake standing on the other side of the doorway. “Liam, I’m sorry, man!” he walks in quickly heading to the liquor cart. He pours a significant amount in a glass and downs it before pouring another round. “I tried to come as soon as I heard the news, but the fucking hospital wouldn’t release me, said I had to heal first,” he tells his brother. “Liam, tell me what to do. I want to help as much as I can.”

“You can help Bastien track down Catheryne’s whereabouts,” Liam replies as he slumps down on one of the armchairs of his office. “I don’t know how much more I can take, Drake. It’s been a week and we still haven’t gotten any leads! Nothing from the ballroom or the video. I haven’t gotten any sleep since. My assistant is stressed about handling damage control. He wasn’t cut out for this situation. The press is clamoring for answers. What am I going to tell them, Drake? What the hell am I supposed to say? Do I give in to their demands? Or do I let them be pushed into fear? What if…what if we don’t find her in time?” he voices his concerns.

“No, Liam, I’m not going to let you think like that. You need to hold it in together. I know it must be tearing you apart, but you gotta do it for her. She needs you now more than ever. Now, I know you are holding a press conference in an hour, so we need to make sure you’re presentable,” he is taken aback by his friend suddenly being the responsible one, but he’s right.

The conference starts. Cameras flash, reporters clamoring for a statement as he steps out into the lawn outside of the palace. He makes his way to the podium set up in the center and puts on his stoic countenance, hoping the façade masks the turmoil underneath. “Citizens of Cordonia, I am here to make an official statement of the tragic incident that has occurred in the palace. I am relieved to say that there were no fatalities, although there were a few that were injured who are now getting the best treatment Cordonia has to offer. Regarding the video that the assailants have sent of Lady Catheryne and their threats, I am here to say that I will not be complying to their demands. If there is anything Lady Catheryne has taught me, it is not to give up amid tragedy. I am not going to take the easy way out. I am not going to let these would-be tyrants to rule our beautiful nation and wreak havoc and fear in our streets. Cordonia, stand in courage and be immovable. We, Cordonians, will survive and we will conquer just like we always have in the past if we fight together. Thank you, sadly, I do not have the time to answer any questions this afternoon.” He steps down the stand and quickly heads inside avoiding the microphones and cameras.

He heads back into his study, heading for another shot of liquor when suddenly his phone rings in his pocket. Ugh, if this is another empty report I will kill someone! He answers the device and the voice on the other end sends a chill down his spine, “That was a touching press conference, Your Majesty, but I’m afraid it’s not enough,” he recognizes the voice from the video. He sprints towards the security room, ordering them to track the phone call. “You’d be glad to know that your precious duchess is still alive. I’m quite surprised she’s lasted this long even with our more severe methods. And I must say I see why you have taken her for liking, she’s got quite the fire and the mouth, but don’t worry in a few days I will break that hope.”

“Listen to me and you mark my words, you bastard. I don’t know who you are, but I can promise you one thing. I am going to devote all time and all resources to searching for you. If you let her go now, I can tell you that your punishment will be swift. But if you don’t, I promise you I will look for you, I will find you and I will kill you.” Liam whispers, his voice calm yet dangerous.

“Good luck. I hope you love the video I sent,” the phone call ends.

#playchoices #choices #choices trr #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #trr #trr drake #trr3 #trr liam #trr assassins #taken #dark #dark angst #don't hate me

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rukakikuchi · 8 years ago

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White Rabbit (HaruSaku/JuriRuppi) - Mad Hatter sequel

Miyawaki Sakura, otherwise known as the Mad Hatter. A serial killer with Mad Hatter’s disease. And Matsui Jurina’s captor.

This girl was the White Rabbit’s target.

White Rabbit. A government special ops force that deals with neutralizing crime and stabilizing those who suffer from extreme mental illness. It was the White Rabbit who created the medicine to help those with Alice Syndrome.

Right now, Kodama Haruka, one of the youngest officers for White Rabbit, was assigned with one goal.

“Stop the Mad Hatter, Miyawaki Sakura, and free Matsui Jurina.”

“Would I have to kill them?” she asked her chief officer.

“If Mad Hatter threatens to kill you, then fight back if you must. But let no harm come to Jurina. We plan to send her to one of our top rehabilitation centers so we can treat her.”

Stop Sakura, at any cost, and free Jurina-san…

Haruka placed the tranquilizer bullets into her gun, strapping it onto her waist.

“I’m sorry… Sakura-chan.”

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

Jurina was an unaware victim, trapped in her own delusions. Her broken mind kept her hallucinating, not knowing that Miyawaki Sakura, her “Mad Hatter”, was orchestrating a plan to set off bombs all around Tokyo. To destroy the real world and reform it into their “Wonderland”.

She wasn’t confined in a cage or cuffed to the bed. The only thing Sakura needed was to keep Jurina in her delusions. Never let reality slip into her mind. She was “Alice”, and reality was threatening to kill her.

Sakura needed to destroy reality.

“Good kitty… good kitty…” she said with an empty smile, petting the cat that lay on the floor. She then picked up a rabbit doll, talking to it, “Rabbit, what’s the matter? You look wound up about something.”

Sakura looked over at the delusional girl, grinning.

“Good, Alice. Stay asleep in your dream land. You don’t need to wake up, to see what a nightmare reality is.”

She then heard a loud knock pounding on the door. Jurina’s eyes immediately shot up, staring at the door. Sakura’s eyes widened, stepping in front of Jurina.

“Here, Alice, have some tea,” she said, handing her a cup, “I’ll go see who’s at the door.”

Jurina just smiled, nodding at Sakura before sipping her tea. Before Sakura completely left the room, she glanced over at Jurina.

“Hatter… this tea tastes stra…” Her voice trailed off as she sat the cup down. Her eyes fluttering shut, she collapsed on the floor. The cat licked her face and curled up against her.

Sakura smirked, removing the hat on her head before walking to the door.

“Coming~” she called out innocently as she entered the living room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see a face she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Haruppi!”

“Hey, Sakura.”

“It’s been too long! What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Hakata.”

“Summer break just started, so I thought I’d come visit you,” Haruka said, adjusting her glasses. “Speaking of, why are you in your uniform?”

“Oh, haha, I ended up having to do laundry. This is all I had to wear,” Sakura lied, her friend just giggling.

“You’re so weird, Sakura.”

She saw the girl about to approach her room, but stopped her.

“Hey, Haruka! Want me to make you something to eat? I recently bought some cake from the bakery; it’s really good!”

“Really?! I’d love some!”

“Alright. Just wait here, I’ll go get it.”

“Hai~”

As Sakura walked to the fridge, Haruka started looking around the apartment.

She must have Jurina locked in her room. That’s why she doesn’t want me going in there… Now where is her laptop?

“Here it is!”

She snapped back, turning to see the cake.

“Woah! It looks really good!” Haruka’s eyes sparkled. But behind her smile, she thought, I hope Sakura doesn’t suspect me… Otherwise, she might’ve drugged the cake.

“I’ve been pretty bored lately, so I’m glad you came over!”

“You sit down and turn on the TV. I’m gonna get us some drinks. You want tea?”

“Nah. Milk.”

“Alright.”

Once she saw Sakura leave again, she immediately whispered into her communicator watch, “Stay on guard, boys. I’m in. Once I give the signal, enter and subdue Mad Hatter.”

“Roger that, Kodama.”

She hid her watch as Sakura approached, hoping she wouldn’t notice the insignia of the White Rabbit on the face of it.

“Anything good on?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” Haruka flipped through the channels, her eyes quickly glancing at Sakura, and the food in front of them.

Okay, I need a plan. Sakura seems to trust me, so she probably hasn’t drugged the food. But I can’t let her find out I’m part of the White Rabbit. More importantly, I need to distract her long enough so I can get in her room and free Jurina. The question is, how?

“Ah! Look, Yokai Watch!” Sakura pointed out, humming in tune with the anime theme song. “This has gotten super popular at my school.”

“Mine too,” Haruka chuckled, looking around for a moment.

“Hm? You not hungry?”

“Ah, right!” Haruka grabbed her fork, picking up her plate to eat the cake. As she munched on the cake, the sweet taste of the cream hit her mouth, making her squeal. “Oishii!”

“Right?!”

The two chuckled as they enjoyed the anime while eating cake.

Nothing unusual with the cake. Good, she trusts me… I’m sorry for what I have to do, Sakura, but even though you’re my friend, you’re a criminal now. I need to do my job.

“Hey, Sakura, where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, down the hall, to the right. It’s just beside my bedroom.”

“Thanks,” Haruka smiled, walking down the hall.

Sakura glanced back, watching Haruka go down the hall. She wanted to make sure she didn’t go in her room.

“Don’t go in… Don’t go in…”

She looked back, seeing Haruka open the bathroom door and locked it. She chuckled.

“Perfect. She’s none the wiser…” she chuckled. “Oh, Haruppi… I love you, but you truly are naive.”

BANG BANG BANG!

“Open up!” A loud voice called, making Sakura jump. “This is the White Rabbit!”

“Eh..?!” She got up from the couch, her body tensing. “How can this be? How did they know my location?! Did they track it from my laptop? No, that’s impossible!”

“Miyawaki Sakura, we know you’re in there! Come out with your hands up, and if you cooperate, no harm will come to you!”

She gritted her teeth, grabbing a baseball bat at the side of her couch. She gripped it tightly as she walked to the door, looking through the peephole. She could see men in white suits, the insignia of the organization they worked for on their chests.

“White Rabbit… Who sent you?!”

“Miyawaki-san, please! Unlock the door and let us in!”

Sakura growled, opening the door and immediately attacking the men in white. She swung her bat furiously, screaming as she violently fought them off.

“Freeze! Stop what you’re doing!” one of them said as they took their guns out.

Sakura just started laughing madly at them, continuing to swing her bat. She hit one of the men over the head, causing him to fall down, holding his bleeding head.

“Let us be mad… Hahahahaha! Let us be MAD! LET US BE MAD!!!” she laughed as she swung the bat blindly.

BANG!

She suddenly felt a sharp pain at her back. She turned and saw Haruka holding a gun, pointed at her.

“W-what…? Haru..ppi…?”

“Sorry, Sakura. I forgot to tell you,” she showed her watch. “I’m part of the White Rabbit, too.”

“No..way…” she whispered as she dropped her bat, falling to the ground.

Haruka sighed, putting her gun away.

“She’ll be knocked out for an hour or two. Jurina is in her bedroom, drugged. Transfer them both to their designated locations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the men spoke. One picked up Sakura and carried her over their shoulder while two more went inside to retrieve Jurina.

Haruka knelt down to the man with the injured head, taking out a small spray bottle and spraying it on the wound to heal it. He hissed a bit before smiling at the young girl.

“Thanks, Kodama. You really are a prodigy.”

“Just doing my job.”

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

The next day…

“The bombs have been defused and Sakura is now locked up in our highest security prison. You did a job well done, Kodama. As for Matsui Jurina, we’ve already made plans to begin her recovery. She’s resisting us a bit, though. Perhaps you should regularly check on her.”

Haruka walked down the white hallways to the room where they were keeping Jurina. A padded room, where she could be monitored, and where she couldn’t get hurt.

“R-Rabbit..?! Cheshire..?!” she panicked as she tried to break down the walls of the room. “Where’s Hatter..?! Where are they..?!”

Haruka knocked on the door, making her turn around. She ran quickly to the door, holding onto the bars on the door window.

“Please, help me..!” she said while breathing quickly in her distress. “I don’t wanna be here..!”

“I know you don’t. But you need to.”

Jurina shook her head. “I want to be with Hatter..! Where is she..?!”

“The Mad Hatter… She did bad things. You won’t be able to see her anymore.”

The girl started to cry hysterically, leaning up against the door.

“No… no no no no no…” she whispered.

As she cried, Haruka reached out through the bars and touched her face. Wiping her tears with her thumb, she then handed her a rabbit doll. A doll that she owned and used to play with as a child.

“Rabbit..!” she hugged the doll tightly, petting its head.

“Jurina, I want you to listen to me,” she said. “It’s okay to go to Wonderland every once in a while. But if you always stay down in a rabbit hole, you’ll miss out on the world above you.”

“But… reality is scary. I want to always stay in a dream…”

“I understand that. The reason why people love dreams is because we only have them when we sleep. But they’re only precious if we wake up from them to go back to reality. If you’re always in a dream, even the vibrant colors you see will fade.”

She stroked her cheek gently, giving her a kind smile as she calmed down.

“It’s time to wake up, Jurina. You can’t stay in Wonderland forever.”

Jurina slowly nodded, still holding the doll close. Haruka then left, smiling in relief.

She’s going to be just fine. Once she recovers, she’ll be good as new. Of course, her Alice Syndrome won’t disappear completely. What she’ll need to do is learn how to balance her mind and not let the madness fully take over. A mix of sane and crazy, logic and imagination.

I’ll be the one to teach her that… After all, I have Alice Syndrome too.

#AKB Fanfic #Fanfiction #Jurina Matsui #Sakura Miyawaki #Haruka Kodama #One shot fic

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