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a-supernatural-writer · 4 years ago

Note

My dude, a stressed kid with upcoming exams would appreciate a Poly lost boys with a scary ass grunge reader? Like I’m talking they hold a lighter to their tongue for fun, they carry around butterfly knives, they’ve got a warrant for their arrest in five states and pick fights with Surf Nazis and win- the boys have never been so intimidated. Pretty please?

Scary Grunge S/O

Poly Lost Boys x gender neutral reader

No problem! I hope you enjoy this and I wish you all the luck with your exams! ❤️❤️

Warnings: cursing

The boys having a scary ass grunge partner would 100% add some spice into their life. They were already intimidating but having you at their side increased their intimidation tenfold.

They thought they were tough, hello, that was thrown out the damn window the moment you told them that you have a warrant for your arrest in five different states and that's why you fled to Santa Carla. The most that they’ve ever been really “charged” with is being kicked off of the Boardwalk for the night. Well, that’s when they were caught doing something.

Of course they’d ask what you were charged for and grins would bloom on their faces at your words, finding it amusing that a human like you slipped through the authorities fingers like sand to avoid your charges.

Not even a couple weeks into your guys relationship, they revealed themselves to you, showing you that they were actually vampires. To say they were surprised at your reaction would be underselling it, they were shocked. You didn’t bat an eyelash when you saw them ripping apart their prey for the night. Blood spraying everywhere, limbs torn off, and then being thrown into a fire when done.

All you could do was grin at their vampire faces and comment on how cool they were. You never thought vampires could even exist and here you were dating four blood-sucking creatures of the night… it was awesome.

You always went with them when they fed. Watching from the trees or hell, even getting up close in the middle of the action which led to blood getting all over your clothing. You would just shrug and smile as your boys fed. You’ve seen some fucked up shit and this wasn’t even close to some of the things you’ve seen.

Pretty soon, you're not even seen apart from anyone of their sides. You officially moved with them in their cave and set up your own little next in one of the many hotel rooms that sunk into the earth. And with moving in, they began to learn and experience your habits.

You like holding a lighter to your tongue for fun? Honey, you got four very fascinated but worried boys on your hands. You’d just be lounging around in the cave, hanging out on one of the couches when the idea crosses your mind. You’ve done it a million times before, you just never did it in front of your boys.

The second you flick open your lighter and hold your tongue over the lit flame, it’s immediately snatched away from you by David’s hand. And the scolding commences. Of course you have to point out all the crazy shit they do and the stuff that you’ve done, what harm could a lighter do to your tongue. A lot, but who gives a shit? Certainly not you.

Reluctantly, David gives you back your lighter cause somehow you will find another one no matter how many times David takes it from you. From that point on, David will just shake his head at your action, but is also curious. He watches you as you test your luck with the lighter, always kind of on stand by just in case anything happens.

Dwayne is on the same level of David. Always hovering over you as you do this past time activity. He watches you not only for safety but out of fascination. If anything he’ll ask you questions; why do you do it? What’s so fun about it? How long have you been doing it? That kind of stuff.

He tries it a couple of times and hell, even got David to join in once or twice. But these two are the ones that wouldn’t join you most of the time. Yes, they are dead and technically it wouldn’t affect them greatly, but they just didn’t see the appeal as you did.

But Marko and Paul are 100% down with you. You wanna spend the next hour holding a lighter under our tongues and the first one to bow out buys dinner? Hell, yes! When they first see you playing with the lighter, they immediately start watching and giggle at how cool it was.

These boys are hoarders, and I mostly think that’s because of Marko and Paul, so you better believe that they are buying stealing cool lighters for you and you soon have a vast collection for whenever you finish one.

Your butterfly knives are also on the same level as you playing with your lighter, but they find it really impressive and you could do some actual damage to someone. They know that you could handle yourself and if anyone dared do something you didn’t like, it would end up with the other person getting hurt and you coming out of it without a scratch.

You take them out at random times if you're not fighting up against some surf nazis or anyone that wanted to put up a fight with you. Mostly it would be around the cave when you're bored is when you would pull one out and start doing random tricks with them that required very little effort for you.

Again, these boys are impressed at your knife skills, and also worried that you could possibly cut yourself by accident, but they trusted you from your years of experience with them.

When it comes to your knives, all of the boys want to learn some tricks. The ones that got it down are David and Paul. David always keeps the one that you picked out from your own collection in an inner pocket of his trench coat. He never really uses it for fighting, but he uses it like you. Takes it out randomly if he’s not doing anything or lost in thought.

Paul uses it like a fidget toy. You personally have to watch him like a hawk when he plays with his butterfly knife. He accidentally flung it in Dwayne’s direction one time when playing with it too much and from then on, you carried his along with yours. He would have to ask you for it if he ever felt the urge to do something with his hands. Expect a lot of requests to teach him new tricks.

Dwayne tried but this boy's hands are so big he kept on dropping it halfway through twirling the damn thing. It upset him a little that he couldn’t do it but he settled with watching you instead. He still has one on him, always trying when you aren't looking so that he could too, one day, at least pull off something similar to what you showed him.

Marko… don’t give Marko stabby or any pointy objects. He likes them a little too much. So much that it even made you lock up your entire collection so he wouldn’t take one. You had to scold him on numerous occasions that even though you did get into fights like him sometimes, you only pulled out your knife if it called for it. Marko was the opposite and wanted to pull it out for every fight he got in. You were thankful that you weren’t kicked off the Boardwalk because of his actions.

Speaking of fights. You were very much like Marko when it came down to it. But instead of waiting for a fight to present itself, if you felt like you were in the right mood, you would pick a fight with a group of surf nazis cause, why not? The night was young and no doubt your boyfriends would make them their next meal anyways so you decided to have a little fun.

When you got into the heat of your fights, it was very easy to tell from the outside that you enjoyed it a lot. There would always be a wide grin on your face as you gave one guy a black eye and another a punch to the nose, breaking it. You were violent and every single time, you would win. It didn’t matter how many there were, you’d be victorious.

It’s funny because that’s how the boys met you. They saw you coming out as the winner of your little brawl and wanted more than anything to get to know you. You kicked some surf nazis ass without getting thrown off the Boardwalk? You’re pretty cool in their book.

Aside from that, Marko would be the one to really get into fights with you. He would always say that you two were “partners in crimes”, which was very true, not just with Marko. If anything, it’s always Paul surprisingly trying to drag the two of you out of your violent tendencies. David and Dwayne… if you get them going, good luck with that. Not even Paul can stop them.

Overall, them having a scary, grunge partner adds even more excitement into their lives. You were always looking for action, which kept them on their toes. Always doing dangerous and reckless things that they would jump in on. All of that still continues when you decide to turn and become one of them.

When you turn you realize that you're practically dead and the stuff you did before can be even more fun. You take things further than what you could do as a human. You tested your limits and your boys were always with their badass partner every step of the way.

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yanderesimps · 4 years ago

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Destined torture

Yandere Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

(Warnings: Unrequited love, forced relationships, forced intimacy, angst, obsession, soulmates AU)

❁-----------------------------------------------❁

It wasn't easy to avoid the blonde when you're the childhood friend of one of his main targets for bullying. Izuku Midoriya, the boy from across the street with a somewhat concerning all might addiction.

You two met in the park one day, stumbling over as you loomed over the greed haired boy as he played in the sandpit. The two of you had sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, always keeping about a meters distance between yourselves as you eyed each other quietly as shy children do.

Until you mumbled about how you liked his all might action figures and his eyes lit up like the night sky, filled with unimaginable excitement. It had all gone up from there of course but now instead you'd both graduated from harmless kiddies to slightly less harmless adolescents.

That of course meant that you had the pleasure to often have deal with the rampaging temper and relentless bullying of a certain Katsuki Bakugou. That wasn't to say that he'd always be such a brat, only ever giving you the brunt of his lashings when he would spy you with Izuku in the school halls.

For years he mercilessly hassled Izuku and it had only ever gotten worse when your classmates had begun to develop their quirks. Izuku, much to his dismay, had to face the bitter truth that he was indeed quickless.

You were almost afraid that your quick would've widened the divide between you two but it somehow in a weird way brought you two even closer if they was humanly possible. By all means, your quick wasn't flashy and explosive like Bakugou's but it had been noteworthy, nothing that get you into UA but respective nevertheless.

When Bakugou would begin his precise schedule of tormenting Izuku, you were steadfast in defending your best friend much to Bakugou's annoyance.

But when you spied Bakugou in the halls today, you'd expected the worst. Your lips twisted into a blatent frown which could make even Endeavour's fire run cold.

Bakugou approached, his hands shoved into his baggy trouser as he stood in front of you, his delinquent friend thankfully no where to be seen. You two stood in raging silence that seemed to ring louder in your ears that your thoughts of contempt for the boy in front of you.

Pulling a hand out of his trousers, you almost expected a bloody nose but soon found yourself staring at a crinkled envelope. You stared at the letter for a few moments before darting your unimpressed glare back to meet the red pupils that stated right back at you.

"Is this a new tecnique? Come to defeat me through the power of paper cuts?" You tittered, resisting the growing earge to swat the paper from his hand.

The blonde clicked his tongue at your sarcasm, thrusting the letter closer to you. "It's an invitation, dumbass, my birthday is next week and the hag made me give you this since she thinks we're friends or whatever"

"Oh my goodness! Why didn't you just say so? I'll make sure to put this in my files, right in the "remember to burn" section" You sang in fake glee, your mocking joyful expression soon falling back into its usual scowl when in the company of the blonde.

Bakugou's eye seemed to twitch slightly at your works and you could practically smell the caremel scent in the air heating up. Surprising, he didn't even say anything and simply turned on his heel to leave. "Well that was...boring" you said with almost a huff. In the past, making bakugou angry was something you actively avoided like the plague but now? It was nothing more than a fun family activity.

So when you didn't feel the flesh of your cheeks burning from 3rd degree burns it was nothing less than a shock. You could almost felt the bright heavens radiating down upon you. Had katsuki bakugou finally developed an actual personality that didn't involve being a dick?

Of course not.

But that still didn't explain why he was inviting you to a fucking birthday party.

It practically struck you like a brick when you realised what this meant.

Bakugou was now one year older

It was the day that everyone seemed to yern for. The day of the mark. A mark that would tell you the name of your soulmate. A mark that would appear on your 16th birthday.

It was bakugou's birthday.

He was turning 16 in one week.

And all that was just more gloating material.

There were quickless people which was bad enough. If you were quickless, you were seen as weaker, lesser and not normal but having no soul mark? It was practically a death sentence. You were seen as unlovable, unlikeable and unwanted. You were abnormal and disgusting. And ever since a certain blonde had developed a knat for explosions and Izuku hadn't, never having a soulmark was the first bullet in Katsuki's rifle when it came to his conquest of making Izuku's life a living nightmare.

And now for the next few months until your birthday it was all you two were going to hear about.

Heaven's gates swung closed right then and there and the pits of hell threatened to swallow you right there.

"Y/n"

You suddenly snapped out of your inner dialogue to see Deku approaching you with a slightly worried expression. Perhaps you'd been spending too much time standing silently while imagine your future months of torment from bakugou.

You pulled an eneasy grin and rubbed the back of your neck nervously. "No it's fine! Just fine!"

The boys face lit up with his classic smile that made your own heart warm. "great! Wanna get lunch then?" Clasping his arm you nodded with a stark grin. "Let go. I'm starving"

....

...

"What's you favorite type of coffin, Izuku?"

_______

There was no amount of pleading that would have gotten you out of this situation, no matter how hard you pleaded to your mother. She didn't even care that your funeral would be expensive.

So now here you were.

In a dress.

Your hair dolled up.

Make-up.

Planning out your 13th reason why.

Standing outside bakugou's home with a present clasped in your hands, the decently loud chatter within taughting you like the drums of War but then again you were practically about to dive into the trenches.

Your numb finger pressed the doorbell, your heart seemed to stutter at the sound of a nearing voice.

"Katsuki! Open your presents later!!" screeched a voice of whom you could only assume was miss Bakugou. The door opened the woman in front of you visable brightened as she glowed down upon you.

"Y/n, what a pleasant surprise, get in here! Katsuki's in the back garden" The woman's mood had practically done a full 180° at a mere glance of your slightly shaky form. "I'll take that, now go in and have fun with the others" She hummed with a wild smile as she took the neatly wrapped present from your sweaty palms. You merely nodded in response, finding that your throat had closed in on itself making it impossible to even swallow down your initial fear.

You could hear the distant cheering, chatting and occasional parent's voice as you walked further into the house, closer to the clear glass slide door that revealed the decoration littered back garden.

There only kids you could see were the possy that would always surround the blonde haired boy, the occasional guy you'd know from class and almost ever girl that would drop to their knees in the hope of katsuki bakugou noticing them.

Most never glanced at you, some glared at you in disgust but one particular pair of red eyes were fixated on you the moment you stepped in the garden.

You nearly cried tears of joy that the make up had taken so long since it seemed you'd actually missed the majority of the festivities. "In and out. This'll all be over soon" You hummed, trying to pathetically console yourself.

You'd made a beeline for the corner with the least amount of people, seating yourself on a lawn chair before quickly pulling out your phone, ideally hoping that you'd allowed to spend the next hour just lazily scrolling through your phone before grabbing a slice of cake and leaving.

Sadly, that wasn't what fate had instore. You looked up from your phone screen as a shadow suddenly loomed over you. "What? Not even gonna give me a happy birthday" Bakugou sneered, glaring down at you. Your own expression twisted into the perfect rendition of what the word "hatred" meant. Your eyes narrowed, your nose crumpled and lips fell into a neat frown. "I'm sure you'll find a way to survive without my half heart congratulations"

The boy above you nearly smiled at your words as he clicked his tounge and sat on the chair next to you. "Not even curious to find out who my soulmate is?" You raised and eyebrow but your expression remained the same. You took a mere glance at his wrist, only to see it covered before returning your gaze. That seemed to satisfy the boy in front of you as his grin widened visably.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm just praying for the poor soul that is destined to be with you for the rest of their days"

Bakugou just laughed and then left, leaving you in a puddle of confusion. He should've already gotten his soul mark, so why wasn't he parading it around like he did with everything?

You didn't give it another though, returning to your phone for the next while and brushing off the unsettling feeling the crawled up your spine.

__________

It wasn't surprising that they waited for the big reveal after bakugou had blown out his candles. You were just mildly aggrivated that such torture was continously being forced upon you rather than just letting you go home.

Everyone had crowded around the table where the cake sat. You, for some reason, found yourself stood at the corner of the table nearest to bakugou who stood in the center alone as the other surrounded the other sides.

Ms Bakugou had placed a hand on your shoulder and who you looked up to ask her why she was so clingy, she merely silenced you with a toothy smile.

She seemed to be excited about something.

Everyone had begun a countdown as katsuki raised his hand to everyone, lightly gripping his sleeve that hid the name of his future beloved.

You simply joined in hopes that the scene would go by faster, you didn't even look when he pulled down the arm of his jacket. You only notice the silence that followed after.

Then you noticed the eyes burrowed upon you.

The tightening grip on your shoulder.

Bakugou's glare.

How he was lightly smiling.

Then you noticed your first name neatly written into the flesh of his wrist.

The world seemed to slow then it had all soon went by like a blur just like you. Reality seemed to slip away at the seems and all you could do was slightly nod at the voices of congratulations and bright smiles of bakugou's parents. Disoriented, eyes pickled with tears as your dry throat struggled to find words.

Why was Katsuki still smiling?

__________

You'd been branded that day.

"Katsuki's girl"

Always finding a firery arm latched around your waist or shoulders as you were paraded down that halls like a spectacle for the ages.

You weren't allowed to speak to Izuku anymore or any guy for that matter. It wasn't like any of them risked their necks to talk to you anyway ever since Katsuki claimed you, broadcasting his mark like a trophy, a fitting collar that was locked around your neck.

You found yourself seated with the popular girl at every lunch when Katsuki didn't cling to you, people who you once years to be next to and chat with. Now it just felt empty. Empty conversation. Empty smiles. Empty happiness.

You would sometimes catch Izuku's eye in the hallways as a river of words went unsaid between you two. Then katsuki would tell him to "fuck off" before dragging you to class.

Life wasn't fun anymore. It wasn't even livable.

You barely realised how the month passed and your birthday was right around the corner. In fact, it was tomorrow.

"We'll have matching pairs then-? Hey, idiot, you listening to me?"

"Yes, Katsuki"

"good. I would hate to think you were ignoring me again" His palm gripped your chin like a face, tilting your head before he smashed his wet lips to yours. It was clumsy. It made you feel disgusting.

A hand sorely gripped your thigh, snaking up the helm of your school skirt. You didn't even bother to swat him away there days when he got handsy. It just encouraged him more to discipline you.

"I'll make sure to get you a great present, you'll love it" You knew what he meant by that, it made your heart drop and stomach threaten to heave.

Bakugou soon got up to leave with a group of his friends, leaving you to wallow in you own desperation. You glanced at your wrist. Katsuki had been baring down upon it every day to see if there was even an inclination that his name was appearing.

In reality it didn't really matter, it was just gloating privileges for him now, a way of bragging that you two were destined and you would be hs fine piece of ass for life.

You stroked the reddened skin, it had been sore lately.

"please..."

"Please...anyones name...just as long as its not his"

__________

"Come on, Y/n!"

"Show us!"

"Its obvious what it is gonna say"

You didn't even bother to check what your wrist said when you woke up this morning. Katsuki made you promise that you wouldn't and that you would wait for school.

So here you were, seated in the cafeteria with the majority of the class surrounding you a Katsuki. You could practically feel the pride radiating from him right now.

"go ahead, babe, show em"

And so you did, jutting out your arm and revealing the name to all around.

It was silent again. You expected squeals of jealously, congrats and awe.

Silence. It was louder than any sound imaginable at that moment .

You looked up from where your listless glare had fallen onto your lap to the wide eyes all baring down upon you.

"Oh...hard...luck, Bakugou"

Your eyes fell to your wrist.

"Izuku"

Perhaps fate wasn't so cruel after all.

#bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugo katsuki #Yandere bakugou #Yandere Katsuki #Mha #my hero acadamy #izuku midoria x reader #Katsuki bakugou x female reader #bnha katsuki x reader #Yandere

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mystic-sky · 4 years ago

Note

This is just a request, but do you think you can write something short about gojo meeting his s/o who is a poc and how he’d react to her curly hair 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 the fandom is still pretty new so there’s not a lot of poc drabbles out there if any at all.

Here you go bby, I hope you enjoy 💕✨

Summary: An AU where you’re a sorcerest whose stationed in Japan due to the National Sorcerer Exchange Program I just made up lol. Even though it’s your first encounter Satoru is a big flirt, as usual✨💘

Word count: 1.7k

It was annoying, being one of the few special grade sorcerers based in Tokyo. Satoru Gojo often wished he could duplicate himself at least three or four times, just to reduce some of the workload stress he had. The older he got, the more he wished he wasn’t the strongest- and that’s a pretty surprising statement on his end.

He felt he couldn’t catch a break. Between special grade work, his students and now looking after Yuji Itadori, who hysterically swallowed a special grade object, he had a lot on his plate.

It was hardly a burden for him. He only wished he could be in multiple places at once. This way, he could make sure the higher ups wouldn’t mess with his students, who meant so much to him.

In sight of the increased special grade activity in Japan and several other countries, the first ever Sorcerer Exchange program was implemented by higher ups across the world. It would ensure that special and first grade sorcerers were evenly spread out and or placed in regions that needed special attention. Satoru wasn’t particularly fond of anything the higher ups did, but this idea wasn’t so bad.

“A government funded, international sorcerer exchange program,” Yaga informs Satoru, who sits across from him, idly drinking his tea.

“And how does this work exactly?” Satoru raises a brow at Yaga before dropping cubes of sugar into his cup, stirring loudly.

“For 6 month spans, high level sorcerers who applied to the exchange will be stationed in different countries to regulate curse activity.”

“Sounds like it pays more. Nanamin might like that.”

“It does, depending on your skill level.” Yaga sits back in his seat. “We’ve already received a few sorcerers from America, Africa, China, Russia-”

“All special grade?” Satoru interjects.

“Currently the exchange program only allows special and first grade sorcerers. Considering the high levels of cursed energy around the world this year, it would be best if we avoided any casualties by placing inexperienced sorcerers in the wrong places.”

“That reminds me. You’re prohibited from participating, considering we’re a red area. Until cursed activity improves here you won’t be allowed to participate.”

“Aww c’mon, you guys suck.” Satoru cocks his head back, sighing loudly.

He already traveled a lot for special grade missions but never for more than a few days. Now there was a whole six-month program and he wasn’t allowed to participate in it? Then again, he couldn’t leave Yuji here with the possibility of the higher ups trying to hurt him again. He promised himself he would protect all of his students.

“There are several meetings I must attend tomorrow and I’d like for you to be there. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Satoru is already up and gripping the handle on the office door.

“I’ve also decided to assign a co-teacher to your first years, for your shorter stationed trips every now and then. She’s an extremely talented special grade from the exchange program. So you needn’t worry of a repeat of the detention center incident with Yuji.”

He had already swung the door open, towering above your body in the door frame. Your nose is barely touching his jacket, and hand almost touching his chest as you were attempting to knock. You take a step back, a bit startled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I tried to knock,” you say, looking up at the blindfolded man in front of you. “I’m looking for Masamichi Yaga?”

Satoru is startled by your flawless Japanese, considering you’re clearly not of Japanese descent. He took note of your tan skin and big, curly hair that was pinned back in certain spots to display your face.

What a cutie.

“No, I’m Satoru Gojo. Principal Yaga’s the one sitting behind me.” He’s not entirely surprised by your appearance, considering he’s traveled all over the world to fight curses. “And you are?”

You almost think he’s flirting, considering how smooth the question was. Also, you’re now recognizing who he is, cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m (Full Name). You’re the special grade I’m going to be subbing with for the first years! I’ve heard great things!” You politely bow a bit.

“I know.” His grin large and cocky as he steps out the way, allowing you to walk in. “No need to be so formal though.”

You’re slightly put off by his attitude, but principal Yaga interjects quickly.

“(Last Name), come in. I’ve been awaiting your arrival. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Yaga is on his feet now, bowing towards you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m excited to work with you all.” You say as he motions you to sit and have some tea.

Satoru has found a reason to stay in the room, plopping down beside you and taking up his tea he had previously abandoned.

“Thanks for sending Ichiji to the airport to help with my belongings. I brought so much stuff, I hope it wasn’t too much for him.” You brain flashes back to Ichiji struggling to hold all of your luggage outside the baggage claim.

“Pffft, feel free to call on him whenever you want. That’s what he’s here for.” Satoru assures you, flashing you a toothy grin. You get the feeling that he probably made Ichiji’s job a living hell.

“I must say, Ms. (Last Name), your Japanese is remarkable. How did you become so fluent?” Yaga asks, filling your cup.

“I’m flattered. I taught myself what I could before attending (insert random ass college name in Japan) University. I’ve always admired Japanese culture so I studied it pretty hard. I can also speak (Native language, if you have one) and (two other languages of your choosing).”

“Wow, your Japanese is better than most locals.” Satoru chuckled. “And you’re pretty too. Lucky me.”

You shifted in place on the sofa. The most powerful sorcerer known to man was sitting beside you and he was complimenting you.

“Thank you,” you say loosely, picking up your teacup.

“Ahem,” Yaga interrupts, earning a tiny snort from Satoru.

“He hates it when I flirt.” Satoru whispers as he leans over towards you. Your face feels a bit hot, and you decide it’s from the steam of the tea in your face and not the handsome man leaning a bit too close to you. You set the cup down after the lightest sip.

“I hate to get down to business so soon Ms. (Last Name), but I’d like for you to get settled in as soon as possible. I’ve mapped out a few assignments for you this week. This is your first.” He slides the first report across the table.

“There have been several reports of abnormal cursed energy in Shinjuku City. It’s likely a special grade. I’d like for you to get to the bottom of it. It shouldn’t be a problem, considering your level of expertise. I’ve forwarded the documents to you as well.” The glint in his glasses makes you chuckle a bit. You flip through the report briefly.

“I skimmed this one on the flight. Whatever it is,” you begin, taking out your phone, “seems to be luring children. This corresponds with the rise in missing childrens’ cases I read about in Shinjuku.”

You place the article on your phone down on the table for principal Yaga to read. You liked to do your own research on locals news to see if curses had any sort of correspondence with a certain area’s events.

“You think a curse is kidnapping children?” Satoru suggests.

“It’s just a hunch. It’s nothing I haven’t encountered before.” You bite the nail on your thumb, realizing the inevitable.

“Unfortunately, if I’m correct, those children most likely aren’t alive.”

You stand up, firmly.

“I trust you’ll take care of it then,” Yaga hands your device towards you.

“Most definitely,” you look at your watch. “And I’ll be done before dinner.”

You offer the principal a smile before you slip on your trench coat, eager to take on your first mission.

“By all means, it can wait until the morning after you’ve rested.” Yaga persists.

“Nope! Not when children are potentially involved. I can’t risk it.” You straighten your clothes, and bow once more. “I’ll report back soon.”

“(Name) doesn’t let jet lag stop her from doing her job. What an admirable woman.” Satoru cooed.

“Well, Gojo-san, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You begin to wave but Satoru is on his feet, and right behind you, making you stumble back again.

“Oh no, I’m coming with you.” He grins. “I’ve gotta see what the most powerful special grade sorceress is capable of in person.”

While you had heard of your own nickname before, you hated when people called you that. You tried your best to be humble about it. There’s always new ways to improve your cursed technique, even if you don’t know how yet.

“So you do know who I am,” you shifted your stance, hands on your hips.

“I’ve heard a few things,” he says slyly. “But I’d like to see them first hand.”

“Hmph, alright then. I suppose you can show me around Shinjuku. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.” You flip your hair, making your way towards the door.

“And it’s your lucky day, I feel like showing off.” You say, peaking over your shoulder.

“Great, it’s a date.”

You stop dead in your tracks, just two steps out of Yaga’s office.

“What?”

“Even after four years of university in Japan? I said, it’s a date.”

The door shuts behind him, and his grin is even more smug.

The audacity.

“You’re not going on a date with me unless you ask me properly.” You roll your eyes, swaying down the steps. So this was Satoru Gojo.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’d be iconic as hell— the strongest man and the strongest woman? We’d be unstoppable.”

“I don’t even know what you look like underneath that thing.” You say, motioning towards his blindfold.

Oh , but you lied. You’d seen his Instagram.

He was a selfie fanatic. That and a cake fiend.

“Wanna see right now? Will it change your mind?” His voice low and steady behind you.

“I’ve got a curse to excorcise.” You roll your eyes, speeding up ahead of him. It didn’t help much considering his legs were so long.

“You know you wanna,” he bends down, voice deep in your ear.

“I’m not listening~

You’re far ahead of him now, attempting to hide the heat on your face and hearing deep chuckles echo behind you.

“Ah, this is going to be the best six months ever!” He laughs heartily.

A small smile crept on your lips.

Maybe it would be.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x POC reader #jjk gojo #poc fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sensei #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo x satoro x reader

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elphiej · 4 years ago

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Be My Light - Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: References to violence, minor assault,

Author’s note: First off, I’d like to send a special Thank You to someone who was a huge inspiration to me and to this story. This is the chapter that really started it all and I was inspired by @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng ‘s mafia reaction series. She is a fantastic person and was one of the first people I showed this Be My Light to when I was too scared to post it. She is a beautiful soul and wonderful writer. Thank you for the push.

Another Big thanks to my editor for sticking with me all this time and into the future. And, of course, to all the people who are reading, commenting, and reblogging this. I can’t tell you all how much is means to me. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Be My Light. (P.S. I have a thing for RM in a long trench coat.)

Tag list: @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine , @mrsfortune1306 , @lovesick-heart0 , @iamnamjoonsbxtch , @deathkat657 , @deeepvibes , @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns , @joyfullyobsessed , @elvencantation ,

Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

You stared at the cell phone clutched in your hand, your mind spinning with so many questions. Who were those people? Why did talking to this ‘RM’ make you feel like something bad was coming? With that deep, serious tone, were they just as dangerous as the man with the cane? And what kind of normal person calls themselves ‘RM’? Agust was already on the edge of interesting and odd as it was. Scanning over the still lit screen, you wondered what other names were in the contact list. Other than ‘God of Destruction’, the last few calls you could see without going through the device belonged to ‘Mochi’, ‘My Favorite’, and ‘Worldwide Pain in my Ass’. Based on those names, you couldn’t begin to imagine who was gonna match those names.

It was safe to assume that this RM guy was concerned about the man in the suit trying to finish the job. The hospital had a good security team but you thought it best to talk to Doctor- Henry- to see if more could be done. Your hand paused as it went to put the cell phone back with Agust’s things; if RM or any of the odd named voices tried to contact you for an update, they would most likely call that, instead of trying to navigate the hospital switch board. Figuring it was the best option, you placed the phone safely in your scrub’s pocket as you moved to the bedside for one last check on the patient. Agust hadn’t moved again since right before the phone call and was still as could be. The monitors were all reading normally. There was a blood transfusion line in his arm to help replace what he had lost, along with another IV pushing fluids and medication. You adjusted his arm to make it more comfortable for him once he woke up.

“I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” you said as you fixed his blankets. “Please, try not to do anything until I get back.”

You slipped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind you. There was an anxious feeling that crept back into your gut, the same one you felt when you had first heard the gun shots ring out from the silence of the construction site. Your mind had so many thoughts and scenarios running through it that you felt overwhelmed. Things like, ‘what if the man with the cane and rough voice came here? Would he shoot his way through the floors until he found Agust? Were you really as safe as you hoped?’ The hospital had been under a few threats but nothing had ever come from those except words. It would be best to stay as cautious as possible. You had too many friends and patients to not take your feelings seriously.

As you made your way towards your station, you were surprised to see that Henry was already there leaning over the desk with the phone pressed up against his ear. He pulled a pad of paper from the other side of the desk and started scribbling something down as he nodded and spoke in a low tone to whomever was on the other end. That saves me from having to page him, you mused. Henry did a double take towards you when he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. He beaconed you over with an urgent wave of his hand. The calm yet awkward demeanor from earlier had been replaced with a more serious one. Once you were within an arm’s reach of him, he reassured whomever he was talking to that ‘everything will be taken care of’ and hung up.

“Good,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I need you to help me.”

“Henry, about that John Doe patient. I was able to talk to someone close to him. I think we may need to alert the security team about- “

“I’ve already talked to them. The hospital is going on alert for any suspicious activity entering the hospital. And we are actually moving the patient to one of the private units upstairs. I just got off the phone with the director and we’ve got everything worked out for you so you’ll be safe,” he said over his shoulder as he started walking down the hall.

“Wait, what does that mean? What do you mean by worked everything out?” You took extra long steps to keep up with his brisk pace.

“The same person who demanded higher security for that patient requested that you be kept with him as his private staff until otherwise. Which means you’ll be in the secure ward with him in case anything happens. It’s gonna be for the best. You were the first one with him and it’s gonna be more comfortable if he doesn’t have to get acclimated to someone else after all this. Don’t worry, we’ve got it worked out with Jax already.”

Henry led you back into Agust’s room and made fast work of disconnecting him from the machines that surrounded him. He pulled the IV bags down and placed them on the bed by the still form. Meanwhile, you were frozen at the end of the bed, feeling dizzy from how fast he seemed to expect you to understand what was happening. This wasn’t the first gang related case you had been assigned to since starting at Mercy, nor was it the first gunshot case; why did this sudden change to the routine make you feel ever more nervous? Never had you moved a patient into a secure wing designed from more severe or quarantined patients before just because someone had requested it. Henry called your name to shake you from your thoughts and motioned you to move to the side of the bed as he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and pushed the bed from the wall. As you helped guide it from the room, you couldn’t help but feel the tension grow.

“So, I am just supposed to stay locked up in some room like a prisoner? And be someone’s private nurse? What about the rest of my patients here? I can’t just leave Amber to tend to them all alone. We are short staffed as it is,” you mentioned as you navigated everyone into the elevator at the end of the hall.

Henry hit a button and the elevator started to move. He leaned close to look you in the face, his eyes filled with seriousness. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is strange but you just have to trust me. I don’t know all the details but someone particularly important has to be involved to make the director so quick to comply with whatever they asked. But no matter what, your safety is my priority, maybe a bit more than my patients. I’m sure the director thinks that too. Whoever it is must just want to make sure this guy has the best care possible. And when he gets here, he’ll probably want to hear from you what happened. And if whatever gang did this does try anything, I don’t want you to worry because no one is going to get to him or you. Only the director, you, and I will have access to this room or know where he is. Apparently, the man the director talked to said he would have a way to get a hold of you and prove his identity to gain access. I know how you are, Y/N, you are a great person. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But don’t think that you are inconveniencing anyone; Jax has already rearranged everything and made some calls. I really need you to think about yourself now. And what is best is for you is to do what I am asking and not over think this right now.”

Henry was being so sincere that you couldn’t find the voice to make any arguments. You gave him a weak nod and tried to take what he said to heart. As Amber had pointed out before, one of your qualities was that you put others well before yourself. Hence, why you were in this predicament. As the doors opened onto the new floor, you promised him that you would try.

The door opened onto a floor where the more severe, long term patients were kept. This floor could, also, be used for quarantining or the more delicate of patients. At the moment, you knew it had only a few occupants: a coma patient, a patient suffering from extreme burns, and someone from the psych ward that needed more focused attention. To enter this ward, you needed a key card, making this more isolated than your full and frantic floor. Henry commented there was no record that Agust had been moved in any of the files. And if anyone tried to look him up, it would be like he never existed. The person who had called to make all this happen had said he’d contact you and that he and his colleagues were to say they were here to perform community service if asked by anyone else. Apparently, they deemed it as security protection. Henry had you swipe your ID to gain access to the floor and you made your way down the silent hall to the vacant room Henry had staked out for you to stay in. The room was bigger than the one you were used to on your floor. There was a small couch across from where the bed was to go, a private bath off near the entrance, and even a TV in the corner. There was, also, a small recliner near where the head of the gurney was to rest. You imagined you’d be there most of the time. Henry helped you set everything back up in the room and did a quick check on the patient after he was secured in his new residence.

“Hopefully, he’s gonna wake up a bit soon. He’s reacting well to what I’m doing,” Henry commented as he checked Agust’s pupils constrict as he shined his pen light in them. He gave some instructions about his IV and transfusion processes. He gave you a quick run down of the floor in case you needed anything. “Until he wakes up, I guess feel free to do whatever in here. It can be like a mini vacation. You know, if you ignore all the weird stuff happening. You can watch some TV or order some food. The mysterious man said to spare no expense when it came to our patient or you. I promise by Friday this will be all over and we can go out and talk about nicer things. Okay?”

Before you could stop yourself, you felt your cheeks get hot and you turned your eyes to the floor. This was not the best place for this, but you knew Henry did it to only ease the anxiety you were feeling. He was almost too perfect. Henry promised to check in once he had finished his rounds as he left from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. You heard the security lock click into place, knowing it would only open from the inside or if you had an ID card. You allowed yourself to drop into the recliner, allowing everything to wash over you. Paranoia was thick in the air as you tried to make sense of everything. Henry was right; whoever these people were they must just want to talk to you and this was easier than scouting the halls. But the thought did very little to chase the nervousness away. Your hands started to rub together out of tension, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles one by one with your thumbs. You took a few deep breaths as you tried to force yourself out of the impending panic. Your eyes looked over at the bed. You tried to remind yourself that you needed to keep it together and be strong for him. Then your eyes landed on his hand. You remembered when you were hiding behind the counter when the man with the cane was getting closer and closer. And when Agust had reached over and squeezed your hand. In that moment, he gave you reassurance with such a small gesture, not thinking of himself. You remembered how genuine it felt. It’d be nice if you could do that now, you thought with a weak smile.

Instead, you settled for forcing yourself to think of something else. You read through his charts, tapped through some news on your phone, and tried to people watch out the window behind the couch. The afternoon sun had started making its way towards the horizon; how quickly the day had ended up flying by. You had decided against turning on the television for now, thinking how awkward it would be for him to wake up to you watching some trash TV show. You tried walking around the room to get a sense of where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But all of that only killed twenty minutes and you were still stir-crazy. There wasn’t much you could do for Agust at the moment, except allow him to rest without you trying to hold his hand or anything else.

Suddenly, there was a buzzing in your pocket; it was Agust’s phone. You were a bit ashamed at how quickly you reached for it. There was a new text message. It was from a new named contact: Sunshine. The preview of the message said, ‘To Miss Nurse’, making your assumption that the people on the other end would have expected you to keep the phone on you correct. And since it was addressed to you, you didn’t feel too bad about opening the phone again. You swiped open the text and tried not to scroll anywhere higher into their previous chats.

- Sunshine: To Miss Nurse. if you see this, please take good care of our Hyung. And if he gives you any trouble, tell him I said to behave. RM should be almost there. He tends to speed.

There were a couple silly emojis next to it that made you smile. Surely, they can’t be bad people if this is how they communicate. They must be close friends. Though, you still wondered how they had gotten the director to do all this. Maybe there was someone else doing all of this? You shook your head and typed a quick message back, so not to have them worry.

- I’ll take good care of him. That’s my job.

You really hoped Agust didn’t mind you messing with his phone. Though, you figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. There was no response which made you think that it was all he needed at the time. Gazing at the clock on the phone, you had wasted thirty minutes in the room so far. You thought of your backpack in the locker room a few floors down and some of your things at your stations that you could pass the time with. Since Agust was secure here, you thought it may be a good idea to gather some things to help you waste time until this RM shows up. It was unlikely that Agust was going to wake up yet, and you could be fast so he wouldn’t be alone for long. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and rose from the chair, heading for the door. You cast one more look at the still figure in the bed before dimming the lights and pulled the door shut behind you.

You set off at a brisk pace for the elevator and took it down a few levels to where the staff locker room was kept. You raced in, pulled your bag from your locker, and left before anyone noticed you. You were sure since the director had put the whole hospital on alert that everyone was making rounds to keep eyes everywhere. You hoped grabbing your stuff from your station was just as easy; you weren’t sure about how to explain why you had suddenly deserted your station. Amber wasn’t there but you could hear her and Jax talking loudly from a back room. You wanted to talk to your best friend, to help ease some nerves and have her tell you exactly what you needed to hear. But you didn’t want to wait around or take her away from her new workload. You pulled open the drawer where you kept some personal items, incase of slower work days, and shoved them into your bag. You froze when your fingers hit against something that you knew, instantly, should not be in your bag. Peering into the opening, your eyes locked onto a metallic, black, studded object that you had seen earlier that morning.

The gun Agust had placed in your hand.

How did that get in there? You didn’t remember grabbing it unless it had happened in the chaos of the EMTs and police rushing to assess the situation. Well, if you weren’t already anxious, this just made it worse. Let’s just add this to the ever-growing list of stupid things I’ve done today, you berated yourself. You brought a potentially loaded gun into a hospital. You needed to get back up to the room and get this out of your possession. Maybe when this RM got there, he could take it from you. You pulled the bag shut and slugged it over your shoulder, trying hard not to think about it.

You moved away from the desk and down the hall towards the elevator. But as you stepped into the silent hall with all the doors closed, one was not closed as it had been when you left; the room where Agust had been. And there was someone looking inside. There was a man, tall and stocky, and dressed in a simple navy uniform. He wasn’t a part of the hospital staff and you didn’t think he was there to clean the room with the lights still off. Trying to stay as unnoticed as you could, you took longer strides towards the end. As you passed behind him, you peered beyond him into the pitch blackness of the room to just make out another figure lurking there. He wasn’t dressed in the same way as the man in the door. He was in darker colors that you couldn’t make out and wore what looked like a fedora on his head. What caught your attention as you passed, was the small peek of icy, blue hairs that were just visible on the side. A deep grumble that sounded from the room made your breath catch in your throat, and made you stop in your tracks. It sounded so familiar to the sadistic voice from this morning. The man with the cane had gotten into the hospital?! How, they upped security measures, hadn’t they? Maybe it was your imagination playing with you with all the stress. Not wanting to stick around to figure out if you were right, you tried to get away before they had noticed you.

But, sadly, you weren’t that lucky.

“Excuse me, nurse. Perhaps you can help me.”

You felt your whole body stiffen as the voice was all to clearly the one that had stalked you from beyond the counter. The voice that dripped with crazed malice and venom as he called out for Agust, that had taunted and tried to lure him out. The voice that you were sure would haunt your dreams. It was the man with the cane, though he didn’t have it now. As you turned, he looked nothing like the half-crazed man yelling and destroying things around him. He looked almost normal, save for the fake smile he had plastered across his lips. He was no longer dressed in the light blue suit and fur coat you had caught a glimpse behind the counter, but in a simple dark blazer and trousers. The man who lingered in the doorway had come to stand next to him as they walked up to you, dressed in a police uniform. His uniform cap was pulled low to obscure his face, though you could see bruising and swelling through the shadows. Both of them gave a slight bow to you.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Taop, this is officer Chen. We are here following up on a patient that was supposed to be brought here. I’ve been looking everywhere, but no one has an answer for me whether he is here or not. And I haven’t seen a single worker on this floor.”

He had never seen you at the scene so you knew he didn’t recognize you, or could see that you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. That would help you, you decided. You took a deep breath and tried to hide the fear and nervousness. Just act normal. Try to stall until someone comes around.

“Sorry, officer, we’re a bit understaffed as it is. What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for a patient that was brought here. Gunshot victim, a young man, brought in this morning?”

“Can you be a bit more specific? We are a hospital. Do you know how many young men we have come in here with some kind of bullet wound? I had six this month.”

You saw the smile slip and irritation rise in those cold eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to his polite composure. “This one would have come in this morning. There was a shooting downtown. He would have had multiple gunshot wounds. One nurse said he was brought in by ambulance this morning, but then another said that they found no record of him. And the last person I talked to sent me here. Please, this is very important.”

“Can I see your badge, sir?” He looked completely off guard by the question. You, also, seemed confused. It had just jumped out of your mouth before you realized it. But it seemed like the right thing to ask. You continued, “There’s been a threat made to the hospital, you see, and I need to make sure that everything is in order. I would get in trouble if I gave such information about any patient to an imposter.”

You could see the wheels in his head turning. But you didn’t expect him to nod his head, understandingly, and reach into his pocket to hand you a leather, bifold wallet. Was this psycho really a police officer? How could someone so vile be in law enforcement? You thought back to what little memories of your father that you had lingering in the back of your mind and couldn’t begin to imagine him doing anything like what this man had done, no matter how bad of a criminal they were. Before you could think, your body seemed to act on it’s own again and opened the wallet and your eyes started to dance across the metal shield. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for at first. Until your eyes caught it and something clicked in your mind. It was a fake, but an exceptionally good fake. Anyone else would have just taken it at face value but something in your mind flashed and screamed that this was a fake like the smile still on the ‘inspector’s’ face. In the reaches of your memory, you remembered running your fingers over your father’s badge, memorizing every detail. And you still did that when you were stressed out; you still had his badge and it was currently in the front pocket of your bag. And you seemed to recall your father teaching you how to identify a real badge from others.

A sudden anger took hold of you that seemed to spur on some brave part of you. You closed the wallet and handed it back to him, keeping your face neutral to hide that you were even more sure of his act. Maybe it was the dishonor to officers like your father, or that he was trying to get to the boy you had risked a lot to save. And your hard work was not going to waste. “I’m sorry officer. But like I said, we have a few patients that could fit your description. None on this floor at all. And if the other nurses said they have no record of him, I’m not sure what I can do for you. Besides that, if we did have a patient come in with multiple gunshot wounds, I imagine that they’d need extensive surgery and wouldn’t be conscious to answer any questions you could have. And with no guardian to act in their place until they are awake to consent to a line of questioning about a traumatic experience, I can’t let you go any further. You should know that, Officer.”

The smile was wiped from the man’s face. The uniformed man’s eyes got wide at your declaration and they shifted towards his leader in panic. Taop, or whatever his real name was, straightened up and took a step towards you. He towered over you and the energy radiating from him would have intimidated you into submission. Just like with your ex. But you needed to protect Agust. In any case, all you needed to do was scream and someone would be alerted. There wasn’t much this asshole could accomplish without being found out. But he continued to advance until he backed you up against the wall. Even still, you never broke eye contact with him.

“I don’t think you understand the situation of this, little girl,” he said, rage tittering on the edge of his voice. “There are some really dangerous people and it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfires. It’s in your best interest to answer my questions and tell me what I need to know.”

“Then bring a warrant,” you challenged.

His hand collided with the wall next to your head, making you jump. His face was so close to yours now, and there was the crazed man you remembered from this morning. Your heart was in your ears. He, suddenly, took a deep inhale then another before tilting his head to the side. “What a brave little girl. Tell me, where were you this morning? Something tells me you may be exactly who I need to talk to.”

“Hey, back off her!”

Both you and the man turned to look down the hall towards the elevator towards the source of the deep voice that had interrupted the line of questioning. The doors of the elevator were opened and from them stepped a young man with platinum white hair. His eyes were haunting and strong, like a dragon woken from his peace. He was exceptionally tall, taking long strides towards the scene. You couldn’t help but let your eyes take in the man who was coming to your rescue. Dressed in a dark trouser and a white buttoned up shirt gave him a classic handsomeness, and a long black coat with a hood drawn up that accentuated his height. As he approached, he slid the hood down and swiped his hand up to push the stray white hairs from his face. If you weren’t terrified, you would have appreciated how handsome he was. You glanced back at the man caging you; his body tensed as the newcomer walked up but his face never showed.

He let out a sigh and a small smile reappeared, but it was not the same he had tried to charm you with. It was one of arrogance. “Ah, Mr. Kim,” the inspector said, not moving from his position, “how nice of you to drop in.”

“You’ve got some nerve,” the handsome newcomer said, his tone low and smooth.

“What for? Being too formal? Do you not like me using your surname? I’m not sure which name you prefer now; you change names so often, it’s hard to keep up after all this time.”

“You’re one to talk. What name are you going by now, officer? Here to investigate a fraud? Or are you here to put yourself into more trouble?”

“Such a negative attitude. Officer Chen and I are here on official business,” the detective flashed his badge at the so named Mr. Kim. “And this nice young lady was willing to help me out with some information. Isn’t that right, Little Girl?”

“It sure doesn’t look that way coming from the elevator. I think you need to take a step back,” Mr. Kim ordered with a strong but suggestive tone that made you question what kind of power someone as young looking as him could possess.

The fake detective made no sign that he was planning on heeding the newcomer’s words to move from your personal space. His eyes shifted from Mr. Kim back to you. His stare bore into you sharper than claws and made your breath catch. You weren’t sure if he was trying to scare you into agreeing with him or just threaten you. But Mr. Kim was having none of that; he gave the older man’s shoulder a hard shove and wedged himself in the space between you to keep you away from the other man. Mr. Kim reached a hand behind him and placed it on your arm, to keep you secure behind him and to give you some reassurance that he was not going to hurt you. You couldn’t help yourself, as you fisted your hands into the back of his coat and peered around his massive frame.

“You always have to play savior, don’t you Rapmon?” The way he had said the name made it seem like he was trying to strike a nerve in Mr. Kim. But the other man gave no sign that he was bothered. “You make it seem like I was doing something unseemly to her. You and your broken boy scouts always turn things difficult. Speaking of, where are the others? Maybe they could answer some questions for me. There’s one in particular I’m interested in seeing. I’m checking up on a victim from a shooting downtown. Just making sure he’s doing alright.”

“You’re really committed to this bit, aren’t you Choi? Oh, sorry- what name are you going by today? It’s so hard to keep track, isn’t that what you said?” Mr. Kim tilted his head to the side, eyes twinkling with a mischievous shine.

“What a nuisance you are. I’m just trying to get information to make sure things go well. Though come to think of it, your boys may not know much. Word was that the victim was all alone. Left all by themselves, bleeding and hurt in such a dangerous situation. What kind of friends would let someone knowingly go into that situation alone? Now, I’d really like to finish my conversation with the little lady, Rapmon.” When Choi, as you figured his name actually was, took a step towards you, Mr. Kim moved the both of you to keep you behind him and further away from the other. “Well, since you seem hellbent on keeping me from doing something so simple, I could always ask you. Though to be honest, your being here may have answered my questions.”

“My being here answers nothing,” Mr. Kim challenged. “Unlike you, I am here to do good for the community. And it’s a good thing I came by when I did. You’re already on thin ice after all the trouble you’ve caused. Imagine what would happen if you caused any problems while on Hallowed Ground. If you were to hurt anyone staying or working here, you would have more than my family looking for you. The rest of the Families would be looking to teach you a lesson. Imagine what most of them will think when they hear about the deceit you pulled this morning. After what I witnessed, you can be sure I’ll have eyes monitoring this place. You will not go against the Accords.”

“Don’t you lecture me about the Accords, you psycho. I’ve been around just as long as they have and lived them. I taught them to you.”

“And yet, you only follow them when they suit you. Just like your leader and his before him. But things are different now. They are gone, and your hold is slipping. I have enough pull now to ensure Accords are followed. And if you want to make a further spectacle of yourself, I’ll gladly show you I’m not that kid anymore that you ordered around. You saw what my boys can do when pushed. Try me.”

Choi started to laugh, eyes shining in disbelief at the younger bossing him around. As you peered around Mr. Kim’s frame, you saw him go to say something to officer Chen, but couldn’t form the word. He raised his hand towards the white-haired man, but let it drop with a growl. Whatever look was set upon the elder made him rethink his next move. He settled for raising his hands in a surrender and jerking his head towards his companion to tell him they were leaving. It surprised you that he was giving up so easily after how he had acted towards you. You weren’t sure what Mr. Kim meant by accords and families, but it was more than obvious that it meant something to them. Glancing up at your protector, his face remained locked in the same stern and serious mask he had when he had appeared. His eyes, perfectly lined and accentuated with makeup that only made him more intriguing, followed the pair as they turned down the hall.

But before they could get too far, Choi stopped. He turned enough to gaze at the two of you over his shoulder, the dark and manic gleam from that morning flashing like a warning sign. He chuckled before his teasing and taunting voice that had called out to Agust filled the hall like glass shattering. “Look at how far our little maniac has come. Really living up to the title of Mad Leader, aren’t you? He thinks he’s so big and strong that he can just order me around and act like a knight in shining armor to the weak. The Mad Leader’s trying so hard to put up a front, to hide who he is, to hide the other side of the looking glass. But lest he forget, I know things he wouldn’t want others to know. And I seem to recall,” Choi turned fully around and took a full stride back towards Mr. Kim, “you had an issue with places like this. You don’t enjoy being here. Are you falling down the rabbit hole? You even have an Alice this time it would seem. So tell me, Mad Leader, are the walls closing in on you yet? Are you feeling anxious?”

You could feel Mr. Kim tense up at the name ‘Mad Leader’ each time Choi said it. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He gave you a polite push away from him before fixing Choi with a glare that made officer Chen startle. You could almost feel the air change as he stepped up to be nose to nose with the thug.

“Since you can’t seem to remember my name, asshole, let me spell it out for you. It’s RM, R to the M. And I’m a motherfucking monster. Keep pushing me. I dare you. You hurt one of my boys. You better pray that he makes it out of all this ok. Or you’ll see just how ‘mad’ I can get.”

Chen seemed to realize that something bad was building as he took hold of his superior and pulled him away from RM, newly identified. Choi kept the taunting smile spread across his lips as he allowed Chen to lead him away. Before he got too far, he looked over at you and gave a nod, “We’ll be in touch, Little Girl.” And then he disappeared from the floor, leaving you in the presence of RM. You can’t say you had expected this person to belong to the voice on the other end of the phone, but it would seem like that was the theme of the day. The tall man took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his white hair before turning back to you. The serious mask he had worn had slipped away and was more approachable. He straightened his clothes before returning to your side.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, “But he shouldn’t be back. He talks a good game but he knows when he’s out done. Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head. “I can’t believe he got in. The hospital is on lock down.”

“Well, he’s been around a while. He has his ways. Now that he’s gone, I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for a nurse called Y/N.” You locked eyes with him and gave him a nod of affirmation. He gave you a smile, showing off a pair of dimples in his cheeks that made him much more innocent and sweeter than the man who had gone nose to nose with the monstrous thug. “That’s a coincidence. Nice to meet you. Can you show me where to go?”

“Prove that you’re who you say you are,” you said, taking a step away from him. Despite that you were sure he was the one you had talked to, it seemed like nothing was safe. He looked at you for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone before letting his finger glide across the screen. A moment later, Agust phone sounded off in your pocket. He glanced over at you with a bemused look as you pulled the phone out and saw the screen lit up with a notification.

- God of Destruction: It’s me.

“Sorry,” you said, feeling embarrassed by your sudden suspicion, “but after that guy flashed a fake police badge at me, I just wanted to be sure. Thank you for coming and for helping me. Are you Agust’s brother or a friend?”

RM’s eyes narrowed when he heard you say Agust and gave you a strange look. His eyes seemed to dance about you, as if he was trying to figure something out. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared and he smiled again. “We usually call him Suga. Only people who don’t like him call him Agust. I don’t think he’d want you calling him that. Can we go see him now? We’ve been worried about him.” You nodded and motioned him to follow you back to the elevator. As you waited for the doors to reopen, he leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hyung you had his phone.”

“What? Does he have some embarrassing things on here,” you joked.

“Maybe,” came the reply and heard RM chuckle as he allowed you to step into the elevator.

You hit the button for the floor that they moved Agu- Suga to, the doors slid shut, and the lift jolted to a start. As the sound of the mechanisms filled the space, you caught a glimpse of the tall man flinch. It seemed odd, seeing as he had just faced off against the most frightening person you had ever seen. The taunting words he had said to RM before leaving came to mind, about not liking it in a hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have bad experiences related to hospitals, so you tried to brush it off. Once you had made it to the secure floor, you led him down the hall. You explained that the floor was only accessible to a few people and how they had followed the directions as specified to the director. The entire time, RM listened very intently, eyes never leaving you. He was the picture of professionalism and sincerity. You swiped the two of you into the ward, and he held the door open for you as you led him down the hall to the room. As you neared the room, you wondered if you were going to survive the present of two very handsome men. Hopefully, the rest of his friends that you heard over the phone were somewhat average.

As you both entered the room, RM came to a stop in the threshold of the door, his eyes staring at the bed. You could see the worry and panic that you had heard over the phone slip across his face. You reached out and touched his arm. He looked at you with an almost innocent gaze, like he was questioning if it was alright to get closer. You gave him a nod and he was beside his friend in a flash. He looked as if he was debating to reach out to Suga, as if he were made of glass, but settled for taking hold of his hand. RM let out a breath and looked relieved to have finally seen his friend. From your place at the edge of the room, you could see how much one meant to the other and all worries about them being as bad as Choi disappeared.

“Is he going to be ok? What did they do to him,” RM asked, never taking his eyes off his companion.

“Dr. Na took good care of him,” you said, reaching for the file at the end of the bed. “He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and on his left side. The gunshot wound on his side appeared to be at close range and the bullet went through. Thankfully, there wasn’t much damage done. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, but Dr. Na was able to remove it and mend up some of the damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but he should have full range of motion after some rest. He, also, has some bruised ribs and a slight concussion. Along with bruising and defensive wounds pretty much everywhere. He, also, lost a lot of blood. He’s in the middle of a transfusion now. But he is responding well to everything and we believe he should be waking up soon. With enough care, patience, and support, he should make a full recovery in no time. Which is amazing; when I found him, I was worried with how much blood he had lost that he may have had a harder road to recovery.”

RM flicked his eyes over to you. “You found him?”

“They must not have told you. I was on my way to work when I heard the gunshots. I was the first to find him and get him to safety.”

RM looked like he wanted to ask more questions, when a soft groan came from the bed and drew the attention. Suga took in a deep breath and his body shifted as if fighting to wake and identify the voices. After a tense moment, his body relaxed and his eyes opened slightly. From the edge of the bed, you could see the glazed and shiny effects of the medication still trying to hold him in the state of unconsciousness, and realized he may not fully be aware of what is happening. But you were sure the presence of RM had drawn him out enough to give them a sign that he was okay. RM called out to his hyung softly, drawing Suga’s attention as he gazed about the room.

“Hyung, hey, can you hear me?”

Suga’s eyes fully landed on RM. It seemed as if he was fighting his way to recognition before he gave a small, drugged smile back. “Joon,” his voice sounded exhausted and stained.

RM laughed. “Yeah, Hyung, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe.”

“Joonie, I think I’m dead. I saw an angel.”

The whitehaired man reached out and ran his fingers, gently, through his friend’s hair. “No, Hyung, you’re only tired. That bastard messed you up but you’re gonna be alright now. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The boys and I will be here when you wake up.”

“Oh,” Suga said, almost sounding disappointed as the drugs started to drag him back to oblivion, “too bad. It was a pretty angel. Prettier than Jiminie and Hyungie combined. But don’t tell them I said that.” And just as fast as he woke, Suga went silent and still again.

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peculiarscriptures51 · 3 years ago

Text

The one where she’s feeling guilty (KTH)

🌺This one is a bit of a heavy hitter

Taehyung tightly grips Hope's delicate hand in his, keeping a close eye on her walking beside of him. She was actively trying not to waddle too much and not slow the both of them down. She had a hand under her bump, which was mostly hidden by the large black wool trench coat he bought her.

He opens the tall glass door to the maternal facility for her, ushering her inside and following her to her doctor's office for the appointment. Hope was a bit anxious, and she tried not to let it show. But ever since the last miscarriage, and the doctor enabling an order that requires more visits than her first pregnancy, she's been extremely anxious. Not to mention her hormones - which of course made no good contribution to her anxiety.

Taehyung offered a smile, taking her coat for her once the obstetrician closed the door to the office. "It's nice seeing you again, Mrs. Kim. I hope all is well." She greeted politely in her calm voice. She wore a mask but her eyes reflected her kind smile, which she flashed at both expectant parents. Taehyung smiles back as he takes a seat beside his wife, hugging her coat for her.

Despite Hope insisting, Taehyung felt obligated to tag along for this appointment with the baby coming so soon - soon being a matter of days and at most a couple of weeks. Hope's belly was protruding a good bit now that the coat wasn't covering it. She pulls back the hem of her sweater to reveal it. Unlike her last full term pregnancy with Taeyeon (who was currently with Taehyung's parents), she had no stretch marks this time. Hope hated that she had so much of them at first but would treat them as soon as she saw them, always at their darkest point before they can age and become permanent. She made sure to take extra preventive measures this time, and fortunately for her, it worked splendidly.

Hope hardly reacted to the cool gel being rubbed into her stomach, the obstetrician gently smearing it around as she maneuvered the wand, facing her monitor, the same image was projected on the opposite wall for parents to see. Taehyung smiled fondly as he looked up at the moving image, then back at her belly to see it squirming on its own. He muttered about how cute it was.

Hope smiled faintly, peeking up at her husband, who squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "He's a bit small but otherwise healthy. That's to be expected though, some people just have small babies." She advised, referring to when Taeyeon was delivered, their firstborn was only 4 and a half pounds, roughly 2 kilograms. When you judge the measurement in comparison to the average size, it was a bit small, but to be expected considering that it's normal for firstborns to be lighter than their future siblings. Not to mention, Hope's family had a history of small babies being born, so her genes may also be a factor. Had it not been for the doctor's reassurances, it would certainly be a cause for concern.

"He's full-term, seems eager to come out." she chuckled as Taewon moved inside her belly, seemingly disturbed by the invasive wand. But her face dropped a little, "That placenta is still quite low, but thanks to our visits we had time to work around this."

Hope nods at those words, they weren't easy to swallow, but the doctor was giving it to her smoothly. She takes a wipe and swipes the gel away, "I'd like to discuss the surgery with you two in more detail. But first let's get you," She smiled at Hope, "in a comfortable chair so there's less strain on your back." Taehyung walks around the table and helps his wife off of it since she couldn't see her feet. He has her sit in the cushioned chair beside the doctor's desk, where she took her gloves off and pulled out a file with Hope's legal name on it. Most of their information was electronic, however there was a need for physical records as well, as the procedure was quite serious.

"As you know already we will be performing a cesarean on you, though it will be very difficult for surgeons. You have clear signs of placenta previa, the placenta is covering at least part of your cervix and you've seen that it made finding the gender of your baby difficult until he changed position." Hope nods, Taehyung clenches his jaw at the mention of surgery. It was quite scary for him just to think about and he had respect for anyone who could stomach anything remotely medical. He would make sure to personally thank everyone that had anything to do with Hope's operation.

"The procedure can be dangerous, and you may have a lot of bleeding, especially for the days that follow. You'll most likely need a blood transfusion, and we'll have to monitor you closely in the ward."

Hope bobs her head, her fingers fumbled together as she listened, face steely and frozen with imminent fear of the worst. "And if I were to experience any complications...?"

"I assure you the team will take good care of you. Unfortunately, I wish I could tell you more about the surgical team I'm referring you to." Considering Hope was a rare case, her obstetrician had to refer her to another surgical team to successfully complete the surgery, as it was very difficult and prestigious. She felt her breath start to shake a little bit, and Taehyung noticed the fear dilating her eyes.

"We'll keep a close eye on your son once he's born, and seeing from our check-ups he should be just fine." Hope felt a little better hearing that, but she was still noticeably on edge.

Taehyung looked down at his wife from where he stood behind her. He folded his arms and inquired, "Will I be able to be in the operating room with her?"

"No, sir. Because this is a major surgery that is more tense than an average cesarean, you won't be able to attend. You will see her in the recovery ward as soon as the operation is complete." She stated, her firm tone not seeming to alleviate Hope's main worries.

Taehyung hated the idea of leaving his wife alone to go through something so scary. It was terrifying for him just to think about, and she was the one who had to experience it while being awake the entire time. It was incredibly nerve-wracking, especially considering all that could go wrong.

Her chin was a bit taut, she was trying not to let it quiver. It broke Taehyung's heart to see her eyes glossy and wet.

He walked her out of the office once they had scheduled the operation with the doctor. He gripped her hand tightly, hearing her sigh weakly, her voice sounding thick. "괜찮아, it's okay." He whispered to her, seeing her tears start to fall and helping her wipe them away.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered, that weight settling on her chest, making her body feel even heavier. Taehyung shakes his head at her, wiping her tears again.

"Don't worry, baby. I don't like seeing you cry, okay? Let's get something to eat, hm?" He was trying his best to make her feel better, she was so scared that it made the tremors in her fingers a bit more obvious. He had to get used to her shakes because apparently it was normal for full-term pregnant women to get them, though it was especially concerning for Hope.

He lets her order their food for the both of them, Hope making sure not to get him spicy food, despite her own intense craving for it. She had a hard time looking at anything but her plate and was mostly quiet. Clearly she was thinking about all the terrifying situations the doctor told her about. "Don't focus too much on it, Hobie. It's making you more anxious."

"I can't help it, Tae. What are we gonna do if something goes wrong-" her thick voice forced her to stop and she hides her face with her hands, sniffling and swiping at her eyes. Taehyung places his utensils down, reaching for her wet hands. "Don't cry, baby." He whispered, desperately so. There was nothing he hated more than seeing her feel so helpless and scared and not being able to do anything about it. They had no choice but to put all their trust and complete faith in the professionals.

"I dunno what I'd do if my health is affecting the baby.... What if I'm gone..." Taehyung shakes his head at the terrible words, feeling his own eyes growing hot from the thought.

"We have to think positive, it's all we can do right now, right?" She huffs and bobs her head, staring at their joined hands. Her warm chocolate tones and the honey-golden hues of his joined tightly together. His thumb massages the back of her trembling hand.

"I just feel so guilty, Tae." She huffed hopelessly, eyes wandering around her dish.

He shakes his head, squeezing her hands firmly, not planning on letting go any time soon. "You shouldn't. None of this is your fault baby, it's just how things are and we have to deal with it together. You know I'll be there with you every step of the way, I'll try to be by your side for as long as they'll let me."

"... I know you will, Tae," She muttered solemnly, picking at her food with her chopsticks as she merely looked down at it. "You always do so much for me and I can't even give you what you want."

He furrowed his brows at that, "What do you mean? You're everything I need and more." He wasn't understanding where this grief that she was feeling was suddenly coming from.

Hope's red eyes get teary again and she couldn't stop her chin from quivering. They didn't care that they were getting looks from other tables at this point. "The doctor said I'd have to have a hysterectomy -"

"Only in the worst case scenario." He reminded her I'm an assuring voice, not wanting her to dwell too much in it.

Hope shakes her head, staring at her food, eyes swimming with guilt. She didn't seem to have as much of an appetite as before. "But most of these cases almost always lead to having one. Which would mean I can't give you more kids like you dreamed of."

Taehyung's heart sinks, of course it dawned on him about that possibility. But he hated seeing her so hurt over it. A soft sniffle slips out and she hides her face in her hands again. "I'm so sorry, Taehyung. I'm so sorry, it's not fair to you." She whimpered, the guilt was weighing her shoulders down, as if anchors were chained to them.

He moves closer to her, kneeling beside of her chair, not caring about the stares directed at them or the pictures being taken. "Hope-ah, look at me. Please, baby," She wipes her eyes and reluctantly looks down at him, meeting his strong teary gaze. "Forget about my dream. Right now, you are my main priority. I'm happy with our kids now and if we can't have anymore then I'll be happy with that, too. I'm here to support you through this, don't worry about things we can't control anymore. You need to rest and eat some more of your food."

He flashed her a smile and she fondly returned it, gripping his hands gently. "Thanks, Tae. I can always count on you to make me feel a bit better."

Hope stares quietly out the car window as her husband drives them through the city. She had her hand on her bump and her eyes kept drifting from building to building. It was late afternoon, soon to be the evening. She felt the baby move and looked down at her bump fondly. She felt incredibly scared and resorted to complete silence, towards the point as to where Taehyung had to peek over at her every now and then to make sure she was still breathing.

They shared no words, and the faintness of the music drifting from the radio seemed to be their only company to their definite fear. She subconsciously tapped her bump to the beat of it, as it was one of Taehyung's songs being played, one he wrote for her and their daughter a long time ago. At least, hearing it, Hope could relax a bit more.

Once the car was parked he looked over at her, trying not to let his worry show in his expression. The last thing she needed was to be fretted over and to be reminded of how serious the operation was - she was already well aware of it. He offered a gentle smile, cooing to himself as he studied her tired face. She'd woken up from a nap before they left, since the couple was already prepared and packed for everything since the day prior. Hope wasn't sure when she'd get another good rest and she was exhausted. He helps her unbuckle her seat belt and climbs out of the car first, quickly walking around and helping her out of it. They were expected, so a nurse rolled a wheelchair towards them for Hope to sit in.

The stress she felt had been inducing contractions for the past few days, and considering that walking helps progress them she needed to be off her feet as much as possible. The last thing they wanted was for her water to break prematurely before the operation because that would mean the team would really have to rush to get him out before there was a risk for infection; it would increase any maternal bleeding she may already have because his head would push against her cervix and placenta more. The nurse helps her sit down as Taehyung grabs their bags. Some of which they wouldn't need yet but he wanted to bring them all just in case, it wasn't too much.

"I'll show you two to your room until it's time for the operation," the kind nurse explained, smiling politely at the couple. Taehyung follows the nurse as she pushes Hope into the building and up to their room.

Once the couple was settled, all they had left to do was wait. The surgery would start very soon, and it was making Hope more and more nervous. She was lying in her hospital bed quietly, trying to remedy her shortness of breath. Taehyung sat beside her, trying to get her mind off the procedure by talking about everything else under the sun. As he was calming her down both their parents called, Hope and Taehyung's mother were eager to see the baby and support the growing family, and Taehyung's mother would bring Taeyeon with her, which Hope was excited about. She hadn't seen Taeyeon in person in about two weeks.

Fifteen minutes before the operation their door was knocked on, and the nurses and doctors explained that it was time to prepare for the procedure. Taehyung followed the bed as she was wheeled through the halls, half-listening to the doctor explain what they were doing. All he could think to ask was, "Will she be okay?" As he stared down at his wife. Hope's fear was evident in her eyes, so much so that they became red and wet as she stared at the ceiling. Taehyung keeps in pace with the bed as much as he can, wiping her tears for her, telling her not to cry. It was making his chest ache seeing her so vulnerable, "You'll be okay, Hobie," He whispered, almost as if to reassure himself. "I'll be waiting for you when it's all done, alright?" He didn't want her seeing him upset, because she needed to be strong right now, and he had to be that for her, too.

They turned another corner, at the end of it were a few seats, and in them were their mothers. "Mommy!" Said a bright voice, and Hope turned her head at the sound of it. The bed stopped moving so she could greet her family. Taehyung's mother lifted the toddler onto her hip so they could see each other. Hope smiled at the sight of her daughter, " Taeyeon-ah, my baby girl. How have you been?" she muttered tearfully.

The little girl frowned at the sight of her mother's tears, and reached down to help wipe them with her little hands. "Don' cry, Mommy. Make baby sad." She said in English. Hope hummed fondly. "Okay, sweetheart, Mommy won't cry anymore." Hope's mother tells Taeyeon to give Hope a heart, to which the toddler put her arms over her head and adorably made the shape.

Taehyung rubs his wife's shoulder, leaning down and kissing her lips softly. He couldn't move further beyond this point. "We'll be okay," he whispered to her. "I love you."

She reciprocated his loving words under her breath, and the team wheeled her behind the glass doors, Taehyung followed as nearly as he could, stopping at the yellow line. He huffed a heavy sigh, turning back to their parents and scooping up his daughter into his arms.

Hope felt incredibly uncomfortable on that operation table. She couldn't see anything but the equipment behind her, and the muffled voices of the surgeons mixed together with the pounding of her heart. The baby's levels were being monitored closely, as was she. Her vision was blurry and she felt like she was drifting in and out of reality. It felt grueling with the constant tugging and pulling that every so often made her body jolt. She was glad she hadn't been allowed to eat because she felt extreme nausea settle. She felt quite the jolt of pressure, and suddenly a lot of her weight was alleviated.

She blinked, waiting to hear him cry, but all she could hear were the nurses cooing. A bundle came into her vision and she turned her head toward it. Her tears kept flowing and it made it difficult to see his face, however she couldn't wipe her eyes. He was breathing on his own, though weakly. "My baby... Taewonnie," Hope cooed tearfully. "Ah, you look so much like your father..." She whispered fondly, hearing him sputter as she spoke. The nurse explained that she would bring him to the rest of the family, as Hope was clearly in too much of a daze to say much else.

Hope smiled when she heard him wail from a distance. She struggled to stay conscious as they continued to operate on her.

Baby Taewon was wheeled over to the waiting family. Taeyeon, who had been falling asleep in her Daddy's lap, perked up when the doors opened. "Baby!" She said excitedly, everyone gathers around the cot to look at him. Their mothers coo at him, the ointment in his eyes made them shiny. Taehyung can't help feeling amused by his daughter's fascinated expression. He reaches down to feel the warmth from his son's head, his dark, sparse curls on his head peeking from his pale blue cap.

"He looks like you, Tae!" Hope's mother chuckled, cooing fondly as both women take hundreds of pictures. Taehyung snaps a few himself so that his wife could see him again. He was just barely five pounds, a bit more than his sister. They took him back to infant care, and Taehyung was informed that Hope was out of surgery. He's quick to kiss his daughter's head and set her down, hurriedly following their obstetrician back to Hope's room. She described the surgery as successful, which he was more than relieved to hear.

Hope looked incredibly worn, and pale. He was by her side the very moment he saw her, and kissed her clammy forehead. Her lids fluttered and her gaze wearily focused on him. Taehyung smiles at her, "Hey, Hobie. You did it," Her head bobs stiffly. "How are you feeling?"

She huffed and he noticed her shortness of breath. She muttered something that he had to lean in close to hear, something about her feeling nauseous. "You're sick?" He worried and she nodded again, lids barely open.

Taehyung pokes his head out for a nurse or doctor, and luckily he gets someone's attention. "Tae," he heard his wife croak, sounding weak. The nurse starts to attend to her, though Hope was starting to dry heave and that was no good for her sutures, especially the internal ones. She winced and held her stomach, groaning in pain. "She'll have to go back in, there's internal bleeding." The nurse explained as she called for the surgeons again.

Taehyung stood, lost and unsure what to do. They were wheeling his sick wife back to the operating room and he could only stand there. He was told to join his family again, where he reluctantly told them what had happened in the ten minutes he was gone. Taehyung's shoulders were taut with concern, his gaze glued to the ground and his lips caught between his teeth. Their mothers insisted he sit down and stop pacing, to which he kept bouncing his leg. He couldn't ignore that pang of fear jabbing his chest and swarming down his body, making the chills travel to his fingers.

Taeyeon, who had fallen asleep again, woke up in the midst of her father's quiet panic. She hadn't seen him look so scared before, and it made her scared. She hoped her mother was okay. She slipped out of her Nana's lap and toddled to her father, standing between his legs. The short little girl looked up at him and gripped his knees, her own eyes getting teary at the sight of Taehyung's red ones. He looked down at her with a sigh, lifting her up and sitting her on his thigh. "Don't cry, baby girl." He told her soothingly, despite his own voice being thick. Taeyeon's chin was quivering as she looked at her father and it was breaking his heart further.

"But Daddy's sad..." She whimpered as he fumbled with the end of one of her pigtails, pink barrettes tied at the end of them. He sniffs and shakes his head.

"Daddy's just worried about Mommy is all," he was glad she was asleep when he explained what had happened. He gives her a tight squeeze as she swings her little feet. "When we see her you have to give her a big kiss, okay?" He cooed and her head bobbed. She was still sleepy, but as she leaned into his chest she didn't seem to go back under, constantly squirming where she sat. He fixed her skirt and a loose barrette in her hair. The halls were quiet except for the television broadcasting the news. It felt like another eternity waiting for someone to return. Taehyung subconsciously squeezed his daughter every time he'd think too much about what could go wrong. It was so hard to focus on the positives when he was this scared of losing her. He wasn't religious, but he couldn't help but pray that their greatest fears wouldn't come true.

At last, another hour had dragged by, by now it was late evening and past their daughter's bed time. She was barely staying awake, fighting sleep because she wanted to see her mother. But Taehyung insisted she go home with his mother until morning. Taeyeon didn't want to, but could only whine sleepily in protest. He and his mother-in-law rushed to his wife, who was sleeping. She looked a bit better than before at least, Taehyung was relieved. He sat by her side as the doctor explained what had happened again and how they managed to help her. Taehyung was beyond grateful for such a dedicated medical team to take such great care of his wife, even when facing surprises. At this point, he didn't care about the hysterectomy she had done on her, so long as his wife was okay. It was all he could wish for, and seeing her face after facing so much worry for so long, he was more than glad that they made it through this.

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popsbridgerton · 4 years ago

Text

Late night sketches

A story nobody asked for but I needed to write something about Dad!Luke with his glasses. I didn’t turn out as I liked it to be but I hope you do enjoy it anyway.

Words: 800+ Summary: You come home to see your husband drawing ‘nothing’.

It was late. Quite late. And you were exhausted. Very exhausted. Because the day turned out longer than it should have been. It had supposed to be twenty actors. But it turned out to be twenty-five. And then of cause the casting team, including you, had to talk about all the auditions you had seen. Instead of one hour, as your schedule said, it was two. And so your working day turned out to end at ten p.m. instead of seven p.m.

When you turned your key and opened the door to your house it was all quiet. Of cause, you expected nothing different. You knew that your little daughter was already asleep. She should at least. But you thought that your husband might watch something on TV or… well, there were a lot more quiet activities he could do than loud you had to admit. You put off your shoes and hung your trench coat to the wardrobe before you walked into the living room where you saw light on and therefore you expected Luke to be there.

When you entered the room all you could see was the back of his head and the yellow hood of his hoodie, you couldn’t imagine that he hadn’t heard you but whatever he did his attention was on it and not you which you didn’t mind much since all you wanted to do was snuggle up next to him and fall asleep. You knew you would fall quickly.

“Good evening, darling.” His voice was low and quiet, and his gaze and his head were still bent down to what he did. Drawing, you realized when you came closer. He had his glasses on. And it made you smile immediately. It was ridicules, you knew that. But he never wore his glasses in public. Well, he did but only if needed. And he would always made sure that he took them off before someone would take a picture. But at home, in the evening he wore them. And for you it had something very intimate to see him like that. “Good night would fit better.” You sighed and furrowed your brows as you stood next to the sofa in L shape. “Shouldn’t she be in bed?” You asked as you looked down at your daughter. She laid between Lukes legs. Her arms pulled around one of it and her head on his tight. The little blanket you kept in the living room for her was laid over her small body and her face looked somehow happy and peaceful.

“She wanted to wait for you.” Luke looked up from his sketchbook and smiled at you. His wide, warm smile you loved so much. You couldn’t help but sighed but a smile was on your lips as sink on the armrest next to Luke. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Don’t be. Are you hungry?” He stroked his hand through your hair and kept smiling as you shook your head. “All I am is tired.” Your head sank to his shoulder and you closed your eyes. You could feel a kiss on your head. “I’d like to finish this. Would you mind getting on the other side? I’ll take you to bed if you fall asleep.” His voice was low and just a little louder than a whisper, he didn’t want to wake Sophie up or disturb you.

You nodded and opened your eyes again. “What are you drawing?” You looked at the sketchbook as he took the pencil back into his hand. “Oh nothing.” He answered. But you knew better. He always drew nothing. But instead, he always drew the most beautiful things. And this time it was again the most beautiful thing you could imagine. Not a thing, not really. It was Sophie. How she laid between his legs and you smiled. “I’ll tell Sophie you said she was nothing.” You teased him and stood up to move around one arm of the sofa and get to the other arm, where you laid down and cuddled you head on his tight close to Sophies. Luke chuckled. “She knows she’s everything.”

You closed your eyes and smiled as you shook your head. “But you said you drew nothing. But you’re drawing Sophie. So she’s nothing. And don’t use my head as a table.” You added as you felt his hand unsettlingly close. “You mean like this?” He laid the sketchbook on your head but put it up again as you groaned and chuckled again as he stroked your arm.

“She is everything.” You agreed after a few moments where nothing was heard but Lukes pencil scratching over the paper. Your voice was tired and only a whisper. He looked down at you, smiling again as you fell asleep. He was used to this. Coming home much too late, being much too tired for proper conversation and falling asleep too soon to do anything else. Sometimes it was you, sometimes it was him. But he liked it much better when it was you. He loved to look at you when you were sleeping just as much as he loved to watch Sophie when he was sleeping. And just right now he couldn’t imagine anything better than having his two girls around him, sleeping and warming him with their bodies.

_____

If you like it, leave something more than just a like. :p

#luke thompson #Luke Thompson imagine #dad!Luke thompson #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #glasses!Luke thompson

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darkest-fantasy · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER ONE OF THE GWYNRIEL FANFICTION BELOW

I would fall from Grace, Just to Touch your Face

Gwyneth Berdara stared at her reflection in the mirror. The mysterious rose necklace, that she now wore everyday underneath her clothing, shined on her slim neck in the dim candlelight.

That same necklace, was a steady presence during the blood rite, guiding her through the trenches as she was separated from her friends.

That same necklace, held some unexplainable, omniscient power over her.

This power was probably propelled due to the fact that she had no idea whom had gifted her with such a treasure. The moment that Clotho had handed her the blank box, pure confusions swarmed in her chest.

"It seems that you have made great friends, or a secret lover," Clotho wrote, shaking her head with a silent smirk. Gwyn had tried to desperately get the answers out of Clotho for the entirety of the day.

"You really wish not to share with me who this is from, dear Priestess?" Gwyn asked, hands on her hips.

Clotho's eyes held a shining secret, and Gwyn could barely function on anything after that. Could it have been a gift from the high lady herself ? Or perhaps one her friends? The questions continued to encompass her dreams.

Now, what seemed like years later, Gwyn wore a gown that fully showcased the necklace for the first time. The gown was a simple design made of silk and chiffon, however, the vibrant teal colour perfectly matched with her eyes.

Tonight, the entire city would celebrate the union between, Nesta Archeron and Cassian, the general of the Night Court. Gwyn's heart swelled at the thought of her best friend finally mating with the general. It was only a matter of time.

But her hands began to shake from the nerves. Being around hundreds of people was still not a comfortable option, and Gwyn hoped that she could sit through the entire ceremony.

You can do anything. You won the blood rite. You climbed that mountain.

Gwyn's fingers continued to tremble as she tied her cloak around her neck, covering most of her gown, but still allowing the necklace to be on full display. She did one more analysis of her appearance in the small mirror found on her bedroom wall. Gwyn had not been to a social gathering like this in years and was not sure if this was appropriate attire.

So she decided to undue her braid and comb her copper coloured hair along her shoulders. Was this too much? She found herself again nervous.

You won the blood rite, Gwyn. You can go to one simple gathering, the ever present voice murmured.

Gwyn held her trembling hand over her mouth and took a seat at her desk. Maybe Nesta would understand if she could not attend? Maybe she could give her congratulations in private?

Then the the gentle chain caught her attention again in the mirror. The rose was almost winking for any form of attention.

Stand up, Gwyn. Go enjoy your new friends, the necklace seemed to scream at her. Her fingers grazed up to the chain and she held onto the rose for a moment, closing her eyes in the process.

Breathe.

Then she opened her eyes and felt a smile paint on her face. She was a strong warrior and could handle a few dances. Gwyn stood, with strong sturdy legs, and marched out of her pathetic room.

Velaris was vibrating with excitement and activity. She continued her breathing process while making her way towards the temple. She kept her back straight, even when some men made comments about her as she passed by.

Once she reached the temple, she blew out a long breath and took a seat on one of the pews. Nesta had asked if she would consider singing during the ceremony, and in a moment of pure excitement, Gwyn had agreed. Now, she tried to even out her breathing so that she was prepared to sing in front of strangers, half of which, were men...

She almost stood and considered heading straight to the exit, until she saw him.

Spymaster, Truth-teller, Shadowsinger.

Azriel.

He was again dressed in full black and had his hair slicked back in order to showcase his beautiful face. He appeared to be helping with the preparations, completely oblivious to her existence.

She would never admit it, but it was his face that she imagined in order to calm herself after screaming from her night terrors .

She could never admit it, but it was his voice that she heard when she sang.

Gwyn quickly turned her neck, not wanting him to catch her staring at him.

But it was already too late, he met her eyes across the temple, and slowly made his way to her. Then he halted in his tracks, as he took in her new appearance.

Gwyn shivered, not from the chilly temperature, but from how he gazed at her exposed neck, at the jewelry.

He probably thought she looked silly, dressing up like this.

"They asked you to come early as well?" his voice rasped along the temple walls. There was a twinge of curiosity and humour in his tone.

Gwyn ran a finger through her hair, smiling widely. "Well, the entertainment is the most important part of any ceremony. We would not want the singer to go missing," she smirked up at him.

Azriel softly chuckled and sat on the pew behind her, so that she could easily converse with him without straining her neck.

"But, if I was to go missing, they would need someone to fill in as soon as possible.."

He turned his neck at that comment," And who, Ms. Berdara, do you think would be chosen for such a position if you did go missing?"

"I don't know Azriel, maybe someone who can actually sing. Do you know anyone?" she played with him, raising her brow in the process.

"Well, they would have to be extremely talented," he murmured.

"Yes," she breathed.

"And would have to be used to such an audience," he placed his elbows to his knees, nearing her.

"I only know one more singer in this room," she teased.

He stood gently, grasping on the back of the pew, leaning down towards her.

"No one will hear me sing... unless it is an extreme, life threatening, situation," he played along, straining each of his words.

She sat in complete silence for a moment, observing his face at such a close angle.

The last time they had been this close, she had been bleeding in his arms.. which was right after..

Gwyn stood abruptly, keeping her distance. "I should go prepare with the orchestra," her voice trembled.

The spymaster only nodded, as if he did understand the sudden new tension between them.

"Of course," he began to turn away from her, but paused for a moment.

"And that is a beautiful necklace on you."

YOU CAN FIND THE NEXT 11 CHAPTERS HERE: https://www.wattpad.com/story/259678043-the-beginning-of-gwyn-and-azriel

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mianavs · 4 years ago

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the room

Falling in Stockholm part 2

a/n: this sets really sets the mood for the story and where it’s headed

tw: sexual assault, physical abuse, imprisonment

Falling in Stockholm

Coldness. Hardness. Ache. Those were the sensations you could identify after the thick fog in your head dissipated and you were able to process your thoughts. You were sitting up but the moment you tried to move your aching limbs, you realized they were bound by tight restraints that dug harshly into your skin.

The realization you were bound had your blood pumping fast and you darted your eyes open feeling fully alert. You were leaning against a cement wall while your ankles and wrists were bound together by thick rope in expertly tied knots. Instantly, you tried to activate your quirk but found it was to no avail—that fact alone had your heart beating wildly as you took in the situation. The room you found yourself in was made of cement walls and flooring. There was a single panel of fluorescent lights that brightly illuminated the room that differed from the one’s in the warehouse and indicated this was another location. You continued searching the room and found a plain bed in one corner of the room that looked to be for one person. Beside the bed was a small wooden dresser with a reading lamp that was switched off. Across the room was a small fridge that stood next to a door left slightly ajar and you could make out a sink. There was also a small table and two wooden chairs to match between the bed and the bathroom. The most glaring feature of the room, however, was the tall mirror attached to the exit. It almost covered the entire door and, in its reflection, you could see the state you were in.

Your hero costume was torn open near your wrists and ankles as well as across your waist where your supply pack had been. Your gloves and shoes had also been taken and you tried to tuck your bare feet under your legs to shield them from the cool air. Upon glancing at your face, you took in your haggard face covered in sweat and dirt. Your eye bags were darker than usual and your lips were chapped while your hair clung to itself with oil and dirt. All key indicators that you’d been out for days after the incident.

Footsteps interrupted your observations and the mirror rattled a bit as the door was unlocked and swung open to reveal your kidnapper. Upon seeing his scarred skin, you quickly recognized him as the same person who’d knocked you out in the warehouse and you tensed as you took him in. His messy black hair, his dirty clothes, large trench coat—they were all standard for a criminal but it was his piercing cerulean eyes and the burgundy patches of marred flesh that made him stand out. Then, after crouching down in front of you could you make out the staple-like metal that seemed to hold the scarred and unscarred skin together. You couldn’t help but shudder in disgust as his cold eyes wracked over your body not leaving one piece of exposed skin untouched.

“…you finally woke up.”

“Who the hell are you and what do you want from me?!”

The calmness of his gruff voice pissed you off but the assailant seemed indifferent to your little outburst. He merely stood up, headed to the mini fridge, and took out a bottle of water and a beer can. The sight of water reminded you of how parched you were and the man didn’t fail to notice how you opened your mouth ever so slightly at the sight of the bottle. He then pulled one of the chairs and straddled it in front of you while opening his beer and setting the water next to him. A smirk etched his face seeing the way your eyes traveled to the bottle neck to his foot. In your frustration, questions tumbled out of your mouth hoping he’d answer at least one of them.

“Why the hell do you have pictures of me from my childhood?!”

His eyes were indifferent as he took a sip of his cold beer and your eyes, like magnets, were on the drop of malted brew that escaped the corner of his scarred mouth and began to languidly trail down his face. You ran your tongue across the same spot on your own face while he simultaneously licked the beer up and maintained his eyes your mouth. Upon registering what you’d been caught doing, you averted your eyes in embarrassment but converted it back into anger.

“Why didn’t you kill me?!”

“Where are we?!”

“WHY DON’T YOU ANSWER ME—“

The pungent smell of beer assaulted your nose after you found yourself drenched by it. You blinked away the burning liquid and made out the bastard crushing the empty can and getting ready to chuck it at you. You braced yourself for the hit but instead it hit the wall next to you with a harsh clang that left you paralyzed. The next thing you knew, the chair was tossed to the side and the offender was straddling you legs, locking your feet in place, and held your tied arms above your head in a position that had your muscles screaming in pain. You used all of your strength to push him off but he was stronger, despite his lanky figure, and he used his free hand to strike your face with a resounding crack that blurred your vision. Hot tears framed your eyes and you coughed out the iron-tasting liquid that had filled your mouth. The same hand then forced you to face him by holding your jaw in a death grip that had blood oozing out of your mouth and onto his hand.

“Hmm…you don’t remember me, do you?” He sounded amused and disappointed as his deformed mouth twitched into a sinister smile. You racked your brain trying to remember his voice, his face, and his form from any altercation you’d had with villains or with members of the Hole, the illegal fighting club from your early teen years, but you drew blanks.

“It doesn’t matter since you’ll have plenty of time to remember.” A feeling of dread spread from the pit of your stomach to your throat as the implication of his words sunk in. He released your face when he got the reaction he’d been seeking.

“Why won’t you just kill me?” You were dumbfounded and you kept your eyes downcast. He raised his hand and you flinched thinking he would strike you again but instead his calloused hand cupped your cheek gently and raised your head to meet his cruel gaze.

“And why the hell would I do that when I’ve been waiting six years for you?” The toothy maniacal grin on his marred face made your blood run cold and your worst fears came to life as he closed the space between you to assault your lips with his.

He lapped at the blood around your mouth when you gritted your teeth denying him access to your mouth. It was only after he realized, no matter how much he licked and drew more blood from your lips, you wouldn’t relent that he decided to use his quirk. What began as uncomfortable heat you attributed to struggling against your binds quickly escalated to fingers like a branding irons that dug into your skin and burned the flesh in its path. Accustomed to pain since childhood, you held in your cries until you felt flames licking your lower arms and the bubbling of blisters forming.

His heavy tongue was in your mouth before you could react and lapped at your own. The heat of his breath filled your mouth and clouded your mind—that is until you felt his free hand travel south to the apex of your legs where he began to rub that bundle of nerves. You were reduced to a gasping mess as he continued his assault on your sex and your mouth. Strings of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away for air and your moans that had been muffled by his mouth escaped your swollen lips. This only seemed to encourage him as he activated his quirk and burned though the material of your suit near your inner thigh.

“NO, PLEASE DON’T!”

Your blood curdling screams evoked his wrath and he burned the skin on your thigh until you were reduced to a sobbing mess from the scorching pain. Your suit was torn to expose your drenched underwear and he wasted no time discarding it to shove two fingers into your slickened hole. Your cry was muffled by his mouth as he harshly thrusted his fingers in and out of you while his thumb rubbed circles around your clit.

Betrayed by your body, you closed your eyes and tried to escape your reality the same way you’d done many years ago when your small body had been subjected to torturous amounts of pain. Your abuser, noticing your closed eyes, increased the speed of his ministrations until your fleshy walls fluttered and your eyes darted open while you cried out your release. Stunned and mortified by your actions, he pressed a wet kiss to your neck before whispering in your ear.

“Such a good girl cumming on my fingers.”

He removed said fingers from your still twitching sex and raised them to his face where, to your horror, he licked your fluids off them. “I think you deserve a reward.”

He climbed off your lap and reached for the bottled of water. You were far too exhausted, both physically and mentally, to try to fight him off so you sat there limp while he uncapped the bottle and carefully tilted it into your mouth. The refreshing liquid was heavenly as it went down your parched throat. You drank it greedily and whined when you felt some of it trickle out of the corner of your mouth. Your kidnapper, of course, noticed this and licked if off your chin, but you were focused solely on the steady stream of water on your lips and didn’t voice your disgust.

After finishing the water, you let out a groan wanting more but before he could react a phone went off. You froze as you saw him stand up and fish the phone from his pocket to answer it. A switch went off in your head and you were screaming like a banshee for the person on the line to hear you.

“HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! SAVE ME! I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY—“

You let out a choked grunt as he lowered the leg that had bashed into your stomach and glared at your crumpled form before returning to his call. “Nothing, just my girl acting up. Alright, I’ll head out soon.”

You couldn’t breathe as you laid there in the fetal position; the warm pain spreading to your entire torso. You were reduced to a wheezing mess of blood and tears while your lungs desperately tried to retain air. Your kidnapper regarded you with disdain as you convulsed on the floor before clicking his tongue and dragging you up to your knees by your hair.

“I was going to clean you up and feed you but after your little outburst, I don’t think you deserve it.” He pressed a cruel kiss to your cheek before throwing you to the ground, your vision blurry from the impact. Making his way to the door, he stopped and regarded your fallen form.

“To answer your first question, the name’s Dabi and I took you because you belong to me.”

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the-ufos-basement · 3 years ago

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I said I would write something about how the big bad red found out about Judge. Well I didn't except to write so much for it. But I did! So here ya go I will have it under the keep reading so it doesn't clog your dash board.

Hope you guys enjoy!

Staring out into the desolate land that he claimed as his empire was peaceful. Though it did not have the beauty of the old world’s gardens, it had this eerie calm that he had come to enjoy while he was alone. As he stood on his balcony that overlooked his kingdom the scarlet king had many things on his mind. He had been peering into many dimensions with limited sight on them and had seen much change that would let him into any of those dimensions. But recently he felt a shift in powers, something that should not happen unless a new god was born or a child of a god is born. Now he knows that all but one of his children had been born, but he knows that the ignorant foundation is still holding the woman hostage as they do the dreadful procedure on her.

But he could shake this feeling. It was something of importance. Something has caused a shift or balance changed in one of the many realities that he knows about. So the scarlet king used all of his power to focus on finding where this source was and he found it and he did not like where it was at. He could feel the source in the hands of the foundation. The ignorant mortals think that they could do what they want, because they believe that it is their duty. He scoffed at the thought.

Contacting that dimension’s version of his cult, he asked them to get into the foundation and discover what has caused this shift. That was several years ago now. As he stands on his balcony looking over his empire as he always does. But on this day something has shifted one more. A disturbance of this being. They are angry, no, they are enraged. They are just as wrathful and hateful as he once was. When he was first brought to this reality, when he felt that painful awareness of his own reality and life. The king was taken aback by this force since he does not know what being could rival him as such. But he did not have time to ponder on it further as one of his loyal servants slammed the door to his private area and yelled.

“My king, they found what you asked!” As the servant said, he held out a thin parcel in his other hand. The king raced over to grab the parcel from the servant and commanded to leave. Once he did and he was alone. The king slowly opened the package to look at the contents that were inside. As he pulled out multiple folders and files that his spies had stolen from the foundation. But two of them piqued his interest. The files had labels on the front of them with the apparent level clearance to access these supposed files.

Typical. The Scarlet king thought as he looked at the other files that were given. They are mostly about his other children and a small orange blob. Which he didn’t understand, but put it aside with the other ones related to his children. As for the two files that first catch his many eyes. Their names were similar to one another. One was named Foundation Judge and the other was named Protocol Crimson Judge. He was definitely curious about the crimson judge one but decided to read the other one first.

Foundation Judge

SCP - [][][]

Object Class: Thaumiel

Clearance level: 3

Special Containment Procedures:

SCP - [][][] must not know about Protocol Crimson Judge. If found out, immediate termination of SCP - [][][]. However they have access to all other information within the foundation due to their level clearance.

Description:

SCP - [][][] is a humanoid being with an appearance of a caucasian female. She stands at two meters tall (6’7”) with red hair and golden eyes. She has two facial scars on her left side of her face. She wears a long red trench coat and two piece foundation clothes, boots, and gloves. Under her gloves she has hands covered in a dark hard coating on her hands, with golden talons at the end. She also has the same coating on the back of her spine.

She can also summon tendrils from her back or small portals. They are made out of the same coating as her hands and back. They can give off an electrical charge when in use in combat. This being is known as Judge and she is a level 5 foundation staff that was created by the 05 council to help secure and contain anomalies that the foundation finds.

Addendum:

The cross test between SCP 682 and Judge was a mixed result. Like with the cross test between SCP 096 and SCP 682 neither of the test subjects were able to take each other down. However, with the cross test with Judge, she was able to do more damage, but she had gained the two left scars after the cross test.

The document was rather short, but it was quite interesting that the foundation would create the things that they would lock away to help. But it seems that this SCP was a loyal dog. Meaning that she was made loyal to this pathetic group. He once again scoffs at the thought that they could do anything that could to stop him. As he put down the Foundation Judge file. He grabs the other file, “Protocol: Crimson Judge”.

Protocol: Crimson Judge

Clearance Level: 05 Council Only

Object Class: Apollyon

Warning!

This file is only meant for the 05 council and a limited number of level 5 staff members that have been a part of this clearance for over a decade and have passed Milgram obedience examination with an 80 or higher. If you do not have a clearance for this file, memetic kill agents will eliminate the target.

Information:

The following information pertains to the creation of SCP-[][][] or Foundation Judge. The creation of Judge was based off of project Olympia that was to create the perfect human. In this project known at the time as “Foundation Judge” one of the 05 councils obtained an item known as “The Essence of A God”. However there was only one use of this essence so it had to go perfect the first time. The project was a success, however it was soon revealed that “The Essence of a God” was not from a minor deity or dead god, but one of the most dangerous enemies of the foundation and is considered a 001 proposal, the Scarlet King.

Since this information was found out too late for the project, the 05 council has proposed the plan known as “The Loyal Dog Program.” This program is used to make any of the MTF take this program if they want to Join MTF Alpha 1 “Red Right Hand”. The exceptions/changes we had to do with the program was making the program last longer. Instead of 2 years this program lasted 5 years and the intensity of the program was increased. By the end of it, Judge had one last test that she would have to complete before being introduced into the Foundation as a whole.

Judge’s last task was to eliminate a former SCP Member that joined the chaos insurgency. The mission was a success and a chaos insurgency base that the former member was at, was destroyed.

However, if Judge ever becomes rouge or dangerous to the foundation, protocol Crimson Judge must be activated and Judge must be terminated afterwards. If finds out the following information about her connects to the Scarlet King, protocol Crimson Judge must be activated and must be terminated afterwards.

The rest of the file was a jarring revelation to the Scarlet king. He was shaking, but not in horror, in pure unbridled rage. The king let out a primordial scream that shook his palace. Many of his servants know that it would not be wise to go to his private room when he lets out his well known primordial roars. He was seeing more red than usual.

How DARE they!?!? How dare they use my essence for their own use!!! His thoughts were rampant and were unclear, except for one thought. Make. Them. Suffer. The king stood up to his full height and left his private room to meet with his highest servant. He knows what he must do, he must head to that dimension no matter how he does it and take Judge and end this foundation. ONE AND FOR ALL!!!!

#sci fi posts #scp #scp foundation #scp writing #scp 001 #scarlet king #scp judge

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allstars-apt · 3 years ago

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There’s Always a Catch (drabble)

I’m... used to surviving. I’ve been fighting for what seems like forever. Every second, every minute, every hour I spent away, I was playing his games. He took... everything from me. So, you could imagine how I felt when I finally got the chance to get away from him for good. Or, at least... I thought it was for good.

“ ngh... M-My head... “ With a low grunt, the man slowly opened his eyes. Once he did however, what he saw startled him. “ G-GAH!! “ The bearded man woke up in the middle of the lobby of the All-Stars Apartments! It just happened that most All-Stars were there, and of course they had their eyes on him. Instinctively, the man frantically backed up to the closest wall near him and began panicking.

“ W-Who are you people?! What do you want with me?! “

“ Relax, Mister Kane. “ an omnipotent voice answered. The manic man looked around to find who spoke to him. As he looked up, Polygon Man materialized before him. This caused the trench coat wearing man’s heartrate to increase.

“ H-How do you know my name?! Who... what are you?! “ Polygon Man simply chuckled at the man’s paranoia.

“ Oh MARCUS, do you not remember? You’ve been a guest within my Complex before! In fact you’ve been an All-Star this whole time! “

Marcus’ eyes widened. “ All-Stars... I-I’m in those Apartments again, aren’t I? “ Polygon Man nodded. “ Precisely. “ Suddenly, Marcus began slowly laughing. Tears of joy trickled down his face as he slowly slumped to the ground. As he hit the ground, he hugged it. “ I-It worked!! I’m... I’m free!! “ Polygon Man ignored Marcus’ joyful display and continued his introduction.

“ Yes, I knew your feeble mind would recall! We did not formally meet during your last visit. I am Polygon Man; the curator of the All-Stars and creator of the Apartments. “

Marcus wiped his eyes and nodded. “ Oh, uh, nice to meet you then! A-Are the other All-Stars here? Drake, Cole, Parappa- all of them? “ Polygon Man nodded once more. “ Of course they are. Would they be elsewhere, Mister Kane? “ Marcus actually smiled at the Polygonal head. “ I’ve gotta see ‘em ASAP. I’m gonna tell ‘em the good news!! “ The man began to stand back up, but as he got back on his feet, Polygon Man interrupted him with a raised brow. “ Oh? Good News you say? What a coincidence! I have great news for you as well! “

Marcus paused. He just met this weird head guy... what news could he possibly have for him?

“ You... do? “

Polygon Man smirked. “ I do indeed! Now it has come to my attention that you made a request from MR. CALYPSO haven’t you? A wish to be separate from NEEDLES KANE, yes? “

A sharp cold feeling surged through Marcus’ body. “ H-How did you know- “

“ Oh please, Mister Kane. Do not underestimate my abilities. I know the activity of all of my All-Stars! As I’ve said, you made a request to Mr. Calypso! I am here to tell you, he has entrusted myself to see your wish is fulfilled! Is that not wonderful? “

Marcus darted his eyes to the side, then back at the head. “ Uh... Okay. As long as I have my life back, I don’t care who it comes from. “

“ Delightful, Mister Kane. Simply delightful. Now I hope you realize I couldn’t simply remove an All-Star from my Tournaments! So, I spoke it over with Calypso and we came to a perfect solution. “

“ HONEY... I’M HOME!! “

Marcus turned pale. He knew that voice, he HATED that voice. That voice clung to his mind like a LEECH as soon as he first heard it. He quickly turned around to see Sweet Tooth eagerly standing before him with open arms.

“ No... “ Marcus muttered. “ N-No, NO, NO!!! How is he here?! How are we- “ Polygon Man swiftly interrupted the bearded man.

“ It’s simple Mr. Kane; You wished to be separated from Needles for good! I could not remove such an iconic addition to my All-Stars, so I’ve decided that he shall remain in the All-Stars with you as his roommate! You get your wish of having a sane mind, and my roster remains in-tact! Yes, yes, genius I know. “

“ N-NO! THIS ISN’T WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID- “ Marcus’ outburst was interrupted by Sweet Tooth’s gloved hand on his shoulder.

“ YOU GOT PLAYED, SWEETHEART. YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO’S EVER BEEN FROM CALYPSO? HAHAHA!! YOU’RE EVEN DUMBER THAN I THOUGHT. “ Marcus was furious. As the clown laughed at him, Marcus couldn’t help but see red. Needles has done so much to him, tried to trap him in his own head for so long... now this? Marcus felt his fists clench harder and harder until he snapped.

“ RRRAGH!! “ He lunged towards Sweet Tooth. The clown easily caught Marcus then yanked him closer to him. Within seconds he had his machete held against Marcus’ neck.

“ Y’KNOW I’VE BEEN TRYIN’ TO KILL YOU FOR SO LONG IN OUR OWN HEAD. I NEVER THOUGHT I’D GET THE CHANCE TO DO IT IN PERSON!! OOH, I’M GETTIN’ GOOSEBUMPS JUST THINKIN’ OF ALL THE WAYS I CAN MAKE YOU- “

Suddenly, both Kanes were surrounded by symbols of shapes. The two were frozen in place by Polygon Man himself. He used his powers to lift the two to his eye-level.

“ Now, now my All-Stars. Save the energy for the battlefield! Mister Needles, might I remind you on our no killing policy? Or shall I return you to your underground abode? “

The clown rolled his eye. “ SAVE YOUR BREATH, HEAD. I’LL BE ON MY BEST BEHAVIOR. “

“ Now Marcus, consider this a warning. You are a guest within my Apartments now. You and Mister Tooth are technically the same person, so you will be expected to follow the same rules he does. You two shall rotate on battle appearances, and I want NO fighting between the two of you, AM I UNDERSTOOD? “ Marcus glared at Needles, but ultimately sighed.

“ Understood... I’m sorry. “

After the two’s statements, Polygon Man slowly set the two back onto the ground and unfroze them. Sweet Tooth let the other go and sheathed his sword, then Marcus dusted himself off and placed his hands in his trench-coat pockets. Polygon Man smiled at the sight of the two not killing each other.

“ That is more like it! Now, enjoy your stay Mister Kane! I’m sure the other All-Stars have missed your presence. “

Polygon Man then slowly ascended upwards, disappearing into a bright light of fading PS symbols. As he disappeared, the All-Stars ran towards Marcus shouting for him. “ MARCUS!! “ Seeing his friends once again, Marcus couldn’t help but cry once again.

“ Hey-Hey, Marcus! You’re alright!! “

“ You had us worried for a second there, pal! “

“ way to not die. “

“ We’ve gotta have a party or somethin’ now that you’re back!! “

“ Spare me no details in recalling your battle with the other combatants in Twisted Metal. “

“ You’re not gonna leave us this time, are you Mr. Marky? “

Despite the overwhelming amount of people sent his way, Marcus wiped his tears. With a big smile, he finally answered.

“ I’m alright guys. And I’m here... for good. “ The room erupted with cheers as folks hugged and surrounded Marcus. Sweet Tooth quietly made his way back towards his Ice Cream Truck and mumbled under his breath.

“ WELL, NOW THAT HE’S HERE... IT’S TIME TO START PREPARING MARKY’S WELCOMING PRESENT!! HAHAHA!! “

Y’know, this wasn’t exactly how I expecting things to turn out after I won Twisted Metal this year. But just because life doesn’t turn out the way you want, doesn’t mean good things aren’t in store for you. I still have no idea what that clown did to my family, but even if I never find them... I’ve got plenty of family right by my side.

#( drabble ! )#long post #THIS IS JUST A BAD DREAM... || (marcus kane)#HELLO BOYS AND GIRLS || (needles kane)#THE CONDUCTOR || ( polygon man!! )#NOW IT'S DRAKE TIME || ( nate! )#GET READY TO BE WRENCHED || ( ratchet n clank! )#FEEL THAT POWER || ( evil cole! )#I GOTTA BELIEVE || ( parappa! )#YOU LACK SKILL || ( colonel radec ! )#GET EM MR. B || ( big daddy! )#[ MARCUS IS HERE!!! ]#[ y'all i have been using marcus in these big ole plots on discord- so i figured i'd add him here officially! ]#[ he has met the all-stars before in a brief period of time where sweet tooth uh- went away ]#clown cw #clown tw

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

cus i decided not to be a predictable hoe anymore, im ganna say Chime, to be a slightly less predictable hoe🤩

A Mountain Village, Somewhere in Japan

The village was nestled deep in the folds of the rolling forested hills. It was guarded by a magnificent century old Torii gate. A white stone path led to neat rows of simple rustic housing. It looked more like a tourist museum piece with little updates to the architecture. People would often visit to pray at the shrine there, for a touch of the past. However, it was home to residents, a small orphanage and a high school. There was even a basketball team and a Kendo league.

Those extra curricular activities had little to do with you however. You woke up before the sun to sweep the walks where the monks would line up to pray in their robes. You were never given more than a simple plain blue yukata with a white obi. You had sandals but only wore them running through the back trails deep in the woods to search for snails, frogs and mushrooms.

Your other pieces of clothing were your school uniform. Most girls got leered at due to some men’s disgusting fetish. But there must have been something about your lanky legs with knobby knees dotted with thick scabs from where you’d fallen on the sharp karst along the streams that turned them away. You reminded them too much of the fact that you were a young child, wild and free.

Not that it mattered. You always ran to school. You never walked. So you couldn’t see their lecherous faces anyway. Your chores gave you little time to get dressed, scarf down a bowl of rice and sprint. So you always ended up late, at the back of the class, panting with your dark hair stuck to your forehead.

At some point the teacher stopped caring. You were a nobody and nobody expected anything of you. So long as the paths were swept and you appeared as required by law, people took no responsibility for anything you did. As soon as the teacher confirmed that she would have to take no action and turned to the blackboard to drone, your eyes shifted to the young man in the corner of the room.

The morning light caught his features. His skin was white and delicate. The sun struck him and he seemed to shine like a lotus. His hair was piled up on his head and tied. He seemed to be serious and studious, but there was a gloomy look to his eyes.

You take a piece of paper, write a brief note, fold it up into a neat triangle and balance it on one corner. Then you take aim.

With a flick, the piece of paper soars in a perfect arc towards his ear. As fast as lightning, that delicate hand snatches it from the air. Without looking, he puts it under the desk.

You frown. He didn’t look at it. You write another note, glance at the teacher, wait another moment and start folding it. Just before you can take aim, your head jerks back, pulled by your hair. You turn and look and the girls behind you all sit up straight and look forward.

“Kiko! Pay attention to the board! If I catch you chatting again, you’ll get paddled!” The teacher's sharp voice made you sit up and nod obediently. You stare straight ahead. Your heartbeats become painful and the light in your eyes dull. They pull your hair again, but this time you don’t react.

Did Chime see? You glance over. He’s looking at you. His eyes are worried. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Kiko!”

The teacher stomped right up to you, grabbed you by your ear and dragged you out of class. It didn’t matter if you were old enough to drive. You were Kiko and that meant you were expendable. You don’t even bother resisting when she grabbed you by the hair as the other children had done and brought the flat wooden bar against your backside three times in quick succession.

“That’s all this time. I don’t have time to deal with you. Classes are abbreviated for the Kendo finals.”

“Why do you even bother to go? You know Chisei’s going to win. Just give him the trophy at the beginning of the year and have the others compete among themselves.” You mutter in your heart.

She gives you a shove and ushers you back into class. As soon as she’s got her back turned, you turn back to Chime to stick your tongue out again, but his face is stiff and taut. He doesn’t look at you, instead, stays focused on the blackboard, still as a stone.

The Kendo building was fairly well maintained and had regular repairs, but still couldn’t fit the capacity of every teenage girl in the village. They all piled in, still in their uniforms, hoping to get a glance, and - if they were really lucky - a smile. They all enjoyed watching him practice, shirtless, shining with sweat, like some god-child brought to life.

But the only bigger fan than them was Chime who got there early and somehow managed to find a seat in the front row to watch his brother while you stood hopping at the entryway to see if you could even get a glimpse of him.

The Kendo instructor waved his rag and dropped it. People squeezed in in a crush to see. With your view cut off, you decide to grab the tallest man’s shirt and climb up on his shoulders. The man snarled at first, but you lean forward and press your breasts against his back to keep him quiet. You try to ignore his fingers on your thighs and focus on the performance.

Even you had to admit that there was no stronger performer than Chisei. Those rock hard muscles were perfect, like someone had carved him out of the mountains they were standing on. Yet his motions were fluid and fast like the river. He could stand and murder people right on stage and yet the people here would have no choice but to applaud his form and the arc of his flashing blade. But there were no victims here. Just a row of bamboo stalks from the forest that you had collected for this very occasion.

The judge stepped forward and bowed. Even Chisei’s bow was perfect, the loosened strands of hair falling like a curtain in front of his eyes. The girls in front of you sighed in unison and you rolled your eyes. You looked at Chime and you’re shocked to see him enraptured. A huge grin from ear-to-ear his eyes full of unshed tears.

You sigh against the man’s back and feel him shiver. But as far as you were concerned this ride was over. You slide off his back and run away.

Behind the shrine was a well kept cemetery. You often walked here, looking at the names on the stones, wondering if one day, you’d find the names of your parents who left you here. People called you Kiko, but no one knew your real name.

You weren’t the only one who haunted these tall monuments to the dead. Chime came here too. While his brother’s performances drove him to rapture for a moment, that moment would fade as soon as he looked in a mirror. He didn’t even need a mirror. His own thoughts drove him to sadness when thinking about himself.

You first saw it when some girls were passing by and giggling about how they’d stolen one of Chisei’s shoes and he’d found them out. They would do anything for his attention. They wailed about his elegant frowning brow. Chime had looked up at them from where he sat. You saw his chest draw in, his eyes fall. He seemed smaller than before, like a darkness had fallen over him.

No one talked about Chime. No one noticed him. He was invisible most of the time.

But that made him just like you.

The old cherry trees lining the edges of the cemetery were older than the village. Their jagged bark pattern made a perfect foothold and you had no trouble making your way up the tree to wait. Sure enough, Chime came, walking, head down. He was no longer in his school clothes, but in the purple yukata he’d started wearing since Christmas. You watch him approach your branch and prepare to jump down in front of him.

But he stops. “Not now, Kiko.”

“How did you know I was here?” Rather than drop down, you swing upside down by your knees facing him, your hair hanging. “You know they say, turn that frown upside down but even upside down, you’re still frowning.”

“I don’t feel like it.” He steps around you and continues on.

You let out a breath but then steel yourself in determination. You unfold your knees and crash to the ground.

You hear him gasp and hear his feet hurry near you. He turns you over but your eyes are closed. You stay limp and unmoving even as you hear his panicked breathing and his voice shaking.

“Kiko! Kiko!”

You open your eyes and look at him with a false dazed look. Again, that stricken, pained expression on his face, like he could fall to tears at any time. It was so sad, but so beautiful. “Chime… Chime is that you? Did I die?”

Instantly, that beautiful delicate expression changes to one of flat anger. “No. Why are you always playing? You’re not even a girl!”

“And you’re not even a boy!” You immediately respond.

Chime draws in a breath, like an arrow had shot through him. Instantly you regret it as he lets you go. “I have to go.” He said. “Brother’s leaving today… I need to see him off.”

“Leaving? Chisei’s leaving?” You suddenly sit up, realizing you may have gone too far, but he’s already walking off in the other direction. “Are you leaving too? Chime!”

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t look back.

A motorcade of dozens of black cars have blocked the entrance to the village. When you arrive, you’re just in time to see Chisei climbing inside a gigantic SUV. Watching over him were men in black trench coats, flashing the Ukiyo-E pattern in the inner lining.

Yakuza!

You stop and duck behind a pole. Not that Yakuza would care about you, a nobody… but at the same time, a nobody like you would easily be crushed like an ant with no savior. Chime was nowhere to be found.

The next day, it was raining so there was no need to sweep the paths. You get to school early to wait for Chime, but he’s not there nor was he there the day after that. After school, you hurry to look for him, passing mourning girls who missed Chisei’s shining presence in their lives. No one cared that Chime was missing.

After searching all day, you decide to wait for him at the cemetery. It didn’t matter that you didn’t go home to eat. There was no one waiting for you anyway. You rested against the cherry tree to wait, with your knee against your chest. Never in a million years did you ever think that Chime would disappear from your life. Now your heart thudded in your chest to think of his chair empty at school. What would you do? Where would you bring your focus?

Tears burned at your eyes but you resisted crying. It was no use. You just had to wait. Eventually Chime would come… eventually.

Eventually, you fell asleep with your cheek against your knees because you woke up to a strange sound. It was an owl, right above your head. Then footsteps.

Walking up the path was someone you thought could have been a ghost, they were so pale, and thin. But it wasn’t a ghost, it was Chime. Still, he seemed a husk of his former self, head down, shuffling his feet. You couldn’t see his face because his hair was out of its tie and shielded it from you.

You heard about how in the city, people could become so sad that they took their own lives. Was Chime mourning his brother? Was his brother sold off to the Yakuza to relieve some sort of blood debt?

Was Chisei dead?

Chime didn’t stop at the tree, so he didn’t notice you. He kept going until the path disappeared into the forest surrounding the village. Your heart leaped into your throat. Chime was going to hang himself? No!

You scramble to your feet and you run after him, but you’re not wearing your sandals. A sharp thorn pierces the sole of your feet and you hop on one foot, hissing. Leaning against a tree you pluck it out and in that moment, you hear voices. It sounded like a man, talking. You move more cautiously now, up the mountain path. There in a clearing, next to a stream Chime and a man in a Kabuki mask sat on pillows. He was pouring him some sort of drink and passing it to him.

You gasp a bit. Who was this person? Was it actually a person? There were many tales of yokai monsters in these woods. But no, this didn’t look like a yokai. Your eyes grow hotter as you see Chime gulp down the drink. Even from this distance, you could smell the alcohol.

As a ‘nobody’ you got to understand a lot of things early. One of the things you understood was men could not be trusted. They were disgusting perverts who preyed on the young. This man was trying to entrap Chime, and you would have none of it. You lean over and pick up a rock and toss it. It knocks against a tree.

The man sits up, looking guarded. His hand moved to his waist. “Stay here.”

As the man moved away, Chime stayed frozen. You hiss at him. “Chime! Chime!”

But he stayed still as a stone, eyes wide, like a deer.

You try again. “Chime! Run! Ru-”

A hand is grasping your mouth, squeezing it. You feel like your skin will tear, that your jaw will break. You kick, hard, for the shins, but the man doesn’t react. You see the flash of a silver blade.

“No!” Chime was there, grabbing the man’s arm. “No! She’s from school! Leave her! It’s okay!”

The man turns to him, faceless behind the mask, you can imagine that his next move will be the gut Chime where he stood. The blade flickered in the moonlight, but made no aggressive movements. He was turning it, over and over in his hand.

“What’s her name?” Even his voice was an echoey noise behind the mask, like a demon’s.

“Kiko…” Chime said meekly.

“Kiko… the street sweeper girl?”

The fact that he even knew that sent terror through your heart. He was looking at you with that unblinking white mask. You can only stare back into it.

His grip on you slowly loosens but you don’t dare run away. “Kiko... “ He says. “My mistake.”

“Who are you?” You ask with a trembling voice. Chime comes and puts his hands on your shoulders to comfort you. You turn to him. “Why aren’t you scared? Why didn’t you run?”

“He was just telling me that Chisei’s gone to become Clan Chief. I’m… going to be kept in reserve… in case he dies. As a replacement.”

“Clan chief?” You whisper. Then you smile. “Of course. Of course he’s a prince.”

The creepy man watched this exchange without movement, but you give the feeling that he could kill you any second and just hasn’t yet. Like he’s trying to see if you will make a mistake, or he will get bored of you and kill you out of reflex. Like a coiled snake, he would strike and you would be dead. You keep your eye on the turning blade. “Are you going to kill me?”

The blade stopped turning and he looked at it. Then he returned it to the hidden sheath in his wide sleeves. “Do you believe in spirits?” He asked.

“Are you… a yokai?” You ask him.

He started to chuckle, his shoulders bouncing. He doesn’t answer. You imagine that at any moment his mouth would open with hundreds of jagged teeth and swallow you both alive.

“Come, come… Why don’t you join us for a drink?”

For the first time, Chime seems to look at the man with fear. “Osho… maybe… I think she’s too young.”

“So are you…”

You feel your chest tighten. So this really is one of those evil men. But if Chime’s innocence could be preserved then… “It’s okay Chime… let me go with him.”

“Brave girl…” The man snarled low in his throat approvingly, staring at you. “What are you planning in your heart? Are you armed with a dagger like I am?”

The answer was no, but he didn’t know that. Lift your chin and glare and try to stop shaking.

“Yes…” He tilted his head this way and then that and then nodded, deciding. “Yes, you… come and have a drink.”

Your legs are like heavy lead weights as you follow him. Your ears are throbbing. Your face is red. He helps you over the stream to sit on the pillow. Chime follows at a distance. His eyes are on you but he doesn’t say anything.

Osho takes the small bottle as before and pours it into the small saucer and hands it to you. It was green, made of pure jade, like glass. You can see your reflection in the pool of red liquid. You raise it to your lips and tilt it.

“Wait!” Chime dashes forward, but Osho catches him with his arm.

“You need to see…” Osho hisses, his eyes glittering behind the mask. “You need to see how very special you really are.”

You swallow but the liquid burns all the way down and bites into your stomach so hard you double over. It was as if someone had torn a hole deep in your gut. That intense pain started to flow outward into your limbs and pool in your chest. When you opened your eyes it was like the forest was on fire and its heat was too bright to see.

You hear someone screaming. Even in this hellish vision, you can see Chime, his face is hazy and distorted, having fallen to his knees, his eyes dull with sadness.

You reach for him, but your hands are covered in rigid white scales. You try to speak but what comes out sounds more like a baby’s hungry whimper. Your hair has grown long over your face.

“This is what happens when those not worthy of it drink what you do. They become worthless monsters. You however… you are something far more important.” The knife has reappeared in his hand and this time Osho approaches with deadly intent.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, revealing your neck. “Thank you, Kiko…”

You wait. You wait for the cut of the blade, the splash of your blood. You wait for life to fade from your eyes. But that doesn’t happen. The pain is starting to subside, the firelight in your eyes dies down. You stop screaming.

Osho is staring, frozen. “Impossible.” He whispered. “You… Only one in 100,000 could...”

He lets you go and rolls you over with his foot. He picks up one hand and examines it.

You turn to Chime, finding your voice again. “Chime… run…” You manage to say.

Chime stands there, watching you. Both of you listen to Osho’s chuckle, now more gleeful than menacing. “What good Fortune. Even if my point is lost, I have even more gain!”

Osho picks you up from the forest floor. “I’m afraid our meeting will be cut short.”

“Where are you taking her?” You hear Chime say.

No… you can only cry out in your heart that this wasn’t supposed to happen. You and Chime were supposed to stay together! You don’t want to be separated from him!

“The medicine is very strong. She will need… special treatment in order to recover. Don’t worry. I will bring her back.”

“You promise?”

You feel him hold you tight, close to him. “I promise.”

That was the last you remember before waking up in the village again, this time in an unfamiliar bed. You don’t know how much time passed. All you know is Chime is there, standing over you, looking just as beautiful as before. But there’s a strange pressure, like a tightness around your head.

You reach up and feel bandages. Your hair has been cut and the bandages wrap around your head completely. “What happened?”

Chime held your hand in its gentle grip. “Osho said you had to have surgery… but… you’re alright now.”

You smile and stick your tongue out at him.

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tinyshe · 4 years ago

Text

Garden Report 21.04.29

Turned new bale of shavings into chicken coop. Contemplated pulling out the old but it just wasn’t that packed with manure with just the three hens so just added more for the deep bedding effect. They have decided that they don’t like the commercial grit I get that is dyed a blue (it actually turns Rossetti’s eggs a blue cast as her eggs are not as dark blue as Alcott’s nor Bronte’s eggs). It has been almost two months and they aren’t going back for it any more. Been supplementing with crushed oyster shell to double as grit and calcium supplement. They still have their large sandbox area under the elevated coop that we fill with sand from the seaside so they probably get some pebbles/grit in there too. I have to figure out a way to level up their font; it is draining quickly. Today I filled it early and by mid-day, they had knocked it over because it was empty. This is a large 50 bird flock font. Their trenching is causing problems.

Planted some seedlings: bean, pea, Italian red torpedo onions, Brussels sprouts. Planted out more alpine strawberries from left over division that happened earlier -- I’m losing track ... did I do that late Autumn or late Winter? No matter; its a partial done job now, just need garden space and time to sink the rest in. Still have other veg seedlings to plant out. The last tray that I seeded in the jump up pots still have not germed (sorry, I found my garden journal and then lost it again shoving things around between teaching sewing to boys and having cribbage games at home on a sporadic schedule/last minute meets). When I turned over the worm bins, I made a nice large deposit of worm compost in each of the tomato pots. I will probably set up the little toms to their new homes tomorrow if the weather holds. I don’t know how much longer they can stay in the little containers they are in. Unfortunately I dumped some and lost my dividing label so it will be a hold out and hope I get them divided into the cherry tom or the Black Russians proper. I don’t want to mix pots because I save seeds and don’t really want the cross pollination. I need to start training the black berry canes as they are growing quick and in all the wrong directions. Also, I need to direct sow my carrots soon if I want them to come along well and not take up space as I change from Spring to Autumn. I think most of my varieties I have on hand are Chantenay that take about 70-80 days to harvest but if I save the seed .... I start running into time constraints. But if they don’t bolt until the following Spring ... and to think I want to do this on a larger scale for more food sufficiency. I have visions of me weeping and crying, crawling across the barren field to kick the scarecrow off his pole and take his place. Not being disrespectful or even comparing my over-active drama spewn imagination with our Lord and Saviour on The Cross but rather a “I’m pathetic and empty, let me hang here and just be full of self pity, not good for nothing but scaring birds”. My luck would be, not even scaring birds with my blubber but entice them to sit (and poop). Yeah, too much imagination. Back to reality. Potential pity party over!

Trimmed up a friends old thyme plants to try to get them rejuvenated and brought home the clippings. A few I stuck in a pot, the others in the dehydrator. I was going to pick her dandelion flowers before her spouse sat to it with the mower but just dragging butt this week so it was a thanks, no thanks. Maybe the rains will catch him before he can hit them and I’ll get a second chance.

Have to make repairs to the lean-to door. It had been slowly falling into disrepair and I jerked it open to leave no doubt -- it has to be repaired or replaced.

Was really sad to get the shipping quote for the swing away bottles I wanted to use for juicing this year. It cost the same if not more than the product. I know glass is heavy but the added charges were to insure they arrived unbroken. WTF mate! pack them right the first time! So back to sourcing local or maybe I can tag on an order with a local mirco brewer. Back to the hunt.

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giingers · 5 years ago

Note

I have a second request, “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” with Tommy.

Enjoy my love!!

17: “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Insomnia seemed to be a horrid and clinging side effect of war, and the wretched spell of sleeplessness had clung itself to Tommy Shelby completely. His mind never rested without the sultry lull of opium, and even then it was short lived, the deep metal clack of shovels against dirt echoing deafeningly through his surroundings and breaking up any temporary peace he could find.

He had spent the last few hours tossing and turning tirelessly, his limbs aching in that bone deep way, but still his mind would not delve into the promise of sleep. He had sat by the fire and had hoped the heat would swaddle him in a comforting embrace, one that would eventually cause him to droop into slumber. But that hadn't worked either.

So now he was confined to an insomniac's prison; mind springing livily with each step while his body screamed at him with an unrequited request for sleep. But he knew no matter how much his tired limbs needed the peace, he didn't really welcome the thought of becoming vulnerable and allowing himself to be a vessel for his nightmares to materialise in.

He couldn't bare the thought of waking up sweating profusely and grappling for an anchor that would bring him back to reality. He couldn't bear to see Freddie's face behind his lids, dirt scattered across his cheeks and a terrified look in his eyes. He didn't want to see Danny's face contort with fear or hear his dull screams again.

So the empty streets of Birmingham became his distraction away from war torn night terrors, and he focused solely on the click of his shoes against the cobblestones and the soft drip of the gutters that the nights flash of rain ran through. Tommy walked for a while, long enough to see the sky change from obsidian black to a dull navy, the world changing with the promise of sunrise. But he walked on, not really knowing where he was heading to, but when the front door of your house loomed towards him he knew exactly why he'd come here.

He knocked gently after a moment of hesitation, but he could tell you were awake since there was a dim glow coming from the window where the fire was lighting and a flicker of movement caught his eye behind the eyelet curtain.

The door was pulled open, and there standing in a ruby red robe, hair cascading down her face and eyes widened as she took Tommy in, was the only person who could dispel all thoughts of France. Shovels digging against dirt, the ripping sound of bullets against flesh, the cries of men and the smell of blood dissipated with one look at you.

"Y/n" Tommy sighed wistfully as if he was only meeting you for the first time. But in truth he'd known you since you were a girl, nothing but a slip of a thing with a wild look in your eye and a talent for mischief. But now before him stood a woman who had his heart completely even if you didn't know it.

"Tommy, is everything alright?" you asked him, checking behind his shoulder for any other infamous members of the Birmingham crime gang but no one else was stalking the shadows.

"I can't sleep, can I stay here?" he asked you in that rough voice of his, his words trickling with a deep sadness that caused the muscle in your chest to twitch.

"Come in" you held the door open for him, knowing full well you'd never deny him the comfort he so often found in you.

Nothing romantic had ever happened between you and Tommy, but there was a naive hope buried within you that told you he felt the same way. But men like Tommy weren't actively in touch with their emotions so mixed signals were often a barrier in your relationship. You'd known him most of your life, since you'd been Ada's best friend for years, but something about Tommy had always caused you to gravitate towards him. And he to you.

Before he went to France a moment between you two had happened that had caused you to believe there would be an abvious shift in your relationship; but the tolling bells of war had rang out clearly, and with them all the men you cared for deeply had been shipped away with the promise of gallant glory bestowed on their shoulders.

Not all of them had returned.

Tommy stepped inside and took off his hat as soon as he walked into the parlour, the flickering glow of the fire casting itself against his face. You took a step closer to him then, your eyes taking in the pale pallor of his skin and the ghostly look in his eyes.

"How long has it been since you slept last?" you asked him caringly but like always Tommy deflected from the conversation, instead turning his eyes towards the stack of letters that were strewn against the table.

He could make out his own scrawl and he fingered the crackly paper as he picked a letter up, one of the many ones he had written to you while he was away. He had written you countless letters during his time in France and you had kept him updated about business back home and all the seemingly mundane affairs that were happening in Birmingham. Your letters had kept him sane, and he had hunkered down in the trenches, holding your letters close and wishing he had told you he loved you before he left.

But perhaps it had been for the best, since the man that had loved you was long gone. And all that was left was a traumatised shell of a man who's violent nightmares were taking control of his sanity.

"You kept all these?" Tommy asked you softly and you slid up close beside him, your warmth soothing him more than you'd ever know.

"Every one" you smiled at him "I think I read each of them a hundred times the day I got them. I felt close to you somehow, like you were still here in England and not.....there"

Your voice cracked at the end and as Tommy shuffled through the letters on the table he came across one that caused his heart to still.

My dearest sister, it began, the men grow weary in this camp, and talk of being home for Christmas is all that can rouse them. I hope that what they say is true and that I too will be home in Birmingham before then, perhaps by then this war will be done with and I will be back home......

"He was a good lad" Tommy stopped reading the letter, placing it down on the table with the others and turning to you. He noticed then for the first time that your eyes were rimmed red and your face pale. You'd been crying, he could tell.

"Yeah, he was" you whispered, your eyes falling onto the signature of your brothers name that rested at the bottom of the letter. It bore into you like a hot iron of red, and pierced you with cuts that stung achingly in the place your heart beat.

This war had been hard on all of the men that had trekked to the front lines, but the women who were left behind to mourn their families were torn with anguish too. You had lost people you'd loved, and with that thought, Tommy brought you close to him with strong arms.

"He was a brave kid. Braver than most men twice his age, and he did all of England proud" Tommy told you softly, running a hand through your hair as you cried against his chest.

"Brave and stupid" you almost laughed, wiping tears from your face harshly as you looked up at Tommy, his beautiful blue eyes piercing into you.

"Aye, us Birmingham lads are all a bit stupid" Tommy said with a smile, his hands coming to cup your face.

"I don't sleep so well either, you know. I just found myself sitting here reading these letters and thinking of everything and I've tried to sleep but I can't seem to" you told him, pulling away from him to fetch a cotton handkerchief that lay on a chair to wipe your eyes.

"I don't think I've slept properly in a year" Tommy confessed to you, his shoulders drooping with the weight of everything that has been weighing him down "but you've always helped me feel better, no matter what"

"I'm glad you came home, Tommy" you said to him, the pricking of traitor tears stinging your eyes.

"You're the reason I came home" he said softly, his eyes shyly meeting yours to take in your reaction, but you just stood there motionless for a minute as you took in his words.

"What do you mean?" you whispered to him, your voice shaking as you spoke.

"Every time I felt like giving up I'd think of you, or read your letters, and I knew I wanted to come home to you. I should have told you before I left how I love you, but I'm saying it now because when I can't fucking sleep or when things get too much its you I go to" Tommy confessed to you, a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes when you didn't answer right away ".....ah I don't know what's brought this on, just forget I ever said anything. I haven't been sleeping so I'm not thinking straight"

"You love me?" you asked him in disbelief, staring at him across your dimly lit parlour.

"Ever since you burst into our house, giggling with Ada on your arm" he said "we were kids, but I knew I loved you as sure as I know I love you now. If you don't love me too, I won't pursue you or torment you. I still want to be your friend, and hope that you don't feel like this has to stop you being a part of the family"

"Oh Tommy! I love you too" you rushed forward into his arms, and when he caught you against him it didn't take him a moment to place his lips on yours.

He kissed you softly and lovingly at first, but more passion was ignited in his lips when his rough hands came to your face. You clung to him desperately, never wanting to let him go, but he pulled away gently after a minute and allowed himself to take you in. His eyes studied every crevice of your face up close, and how your eyes sparkled with the light of the fire.

"Let's go to sleep, my love" he whispered to you, his thumb tracing the red jut of your bottom lip. You nodded, taking his hand in yours and leading him towards your room.

He lay in your arms that night, weightless with the peace of sleep that had eventually clouded over him. You just watched him as he slept, stroking his handsome face gently while not knowing how each loving caress of yours dispelled any nightmares in Tommy's head, replacing them with dreams of you.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine

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poptod · 4 years ago

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hey there! hope i’m not bothering u. maybe a snafu x reader after the war where he tries to impress them at a bar with war stories but y/n was an air force pilot and it turns into a debate of who was more badass during the war? sweet at the end maybe? i’m addicted to ur writing lmao. thanks again for always answering my requests!

notes: not a problem at all :) unfortunately the power has been out at my house for a day or two so this is a tad late, but youve got fun ideas so i dont mind writing them at all. hope you like this one too

It had to be past midnight – somehow despite that fact, you were still wide awake. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't taken your sleeping pills, or the pounding loud shouts of the bar's drunken patrons, but you did not lag behind your friend. She'd dragged you there, saying something about getting free drinks since she was banging the bartender. Before either of you knew it, she was off flirting with another man (which the bartender did not like), and you were ordering your third drink. Not the most you'd drunk in one night, not even close, but it was enough to give you a pleasant buzz, allowing you to relax against the bar counter and look out across the crowd.

Within the next several hours most of the crowd had filed out, making way for a new wave of soldiers, ones that had just arrived home and were celebrating their life still belonging to themselves. You were once part of that menagerie; the only difference was you had become a marine before the war ever started, and while you were there for the beginnings of the war, your contract with the marine corps ended soon after. It left you feeling apart from both citizens and soldiers – someone who didn't know the horrors of war, but who was traumatized enough that society didn't care to love them anymore.

Unlike many returning soldiers, you did not turn to alcohol to fix your issues. For the most part you distracted yourself with work, working and working till there was nothing in your head but work – there was little else in your life besides work now, the one exception being your friend, Penny. She made sure you ate, made sure you got outside and had human contact. For that you will always be grateful.

Your attention wavers from her only when one of the returning soldiers stands right beside you at the bar, ordering a bottle of beer before noticing you, his posture suddenly changing as he does so. His back straightens out a little, his hips a little more forward, elbows on the bar behind him so as to show off toned forearms and a skinny waist. He stares for a little while – you pay him no mind. When he gets his drink, that's when he actually speaks to you.

"What's a doll like you doin' here?" He says, and you almost roll your eyes. What a typical start.

"Keepin' a friend company," you answer him quietly, taking a swig of your own drink. It's not entirely a lie, although you feel you're keeping less and less of her company the more she drifts off to the side, caught up in the stare of a rather handsome man with a fair amount of scruff.

"Really? You come here often? I'm - jus' curious. I've never been here before," he says, clarifying that he isn't that stupid so as to use that specific line, a clarification you appreciate.

"This is my first time. My friend though, she comes here often, says she likes the atmosphere," you tell him, nodding in the direction of Penny, who is currently in a corner with the stranger. "You're a soldier, right?"

"Yessir," he says with a proud nod, "just returnin', actually."

You nod absently, looking out across the general crowd before you at last meet his eye. In the neon red lights you can barely see him, the shape of his face against the black mass of people, the color of his eyes against long eyelashes that flutter when he scans you up and down. All you can tell about him is his voice – rough and deep, drawling his words and humming his thoughts.

"You meet many marines?" He asks, and you can already tell he's gearing up to tell you some horrid stories of the war. Unfortunately, you don't know him well enough yet to know if he's going to tell you the truth, and a small part of you hopes he doesn't tell the truth. The truth is gorey and dangerous and heartbreaking, and you're not ready to live out such memories and tales again. Not yet.

"I've met a few," you say vaguely, watching the way a grin cracks across his face as he chuckles smooth and low.

"All I gotta say is you're lucky I ain't no army kid, those assholes are weak as all hell," he says, something you fully agree with, and something that has a sweet giggle coming involuntarily out of you. He smiles even bigger when he watches the way you laugh.

"My father was a marine," you say, coming down from your high. "He said the same thing."

"He's right, y' know... me n' my troop, we was out on that godforsaken island in the Pacific, hot as hell every day – humid, too. We saw hell n' back, shootin' at Japs n' gettin' shot at, sitting in all those damn trenches, up to ya knees in mud, and there go the fuckin' army soldiers, prancing around like goddamn deer. Funniest shit I ever seen, though to be fair, I don't think any a' us had much to eat that day," he recalls fondly, but you can tell he's suppressing the worse memories. You don't ask on that – it'd be rude, and it's not a subject you want to talk about. Nonetheless, he continues. "An you know, you're sittin' in mud all day n' night, you're gonna get pretty dirty, right?"

You nod attentively. If there's one thing you're still good at after your time in the marine corps, it's listening well.

"So we're all covered in mud, and they come by in a neat row, with their freshly washed hair and white as all hell skin – I made a bet with this one fella, Burgie, a' said they'd get so sunburnt after a week on that island, they'd be cryin'. I was right, of course," he says, motioning with his hands as he told the story. At the end he rubs his nose and turns back to you, watching for your reaction, and loving the way you still manage to enjoy his story.

"So you're tellin' war stories now?" You ask, leaning in closer and smirking imperceptibly when his breath catches in his throat. "What's your best story, then?"

He doesn't skip a beat, another one of those sweetly impure smiles coming across him as he starts.

"Hell, there's a lot to choose from. I do remember though," his hand comes up to his shirt collar, unconsciously toying with it, "this one Jap snuck into our camp, still don't know how, but he was one a' those damn kamikaze soldiers, the radical ones. He shouted somethin', don't remember what, but everyone went for their guns – I did too, an' we all pointed at his chest, cause it's easier to aim that way, y'know? But the bombs were tied to his chest, so a' aimed at the head. Shot him dead center between his eyes," he tells you with an air of pride and a hint of disgust. You don't blame him.

"That's a good story," you say with a small smile.

Anticipation creeps up on you as you wait till he's done prattling off little details, just waiting till you can watch the light die in his eyes as you tell him your own war story.

"I think my best marine story would have to be when I was flyin' over this active war field, there's fighter pilots everywhere in the sky, and sometimes it's hard to tell which jet belongs to which side in the moment. Everythin' goes by fast, but I saw this Jap flagged plane drop a bomb the size of a whole person. Immediate reaction was to shoot at the bomb, and I got pretty lucky – it blew up midair, and I was far enough it didn't hurt me," you say, unable to stop a grin from coming to you when the man slowly realizes that he's talking to another marine.

"Oh, you're a marine too, ain't you?" He says, but it's not a question – no, it sounds more like a challenge, and one you're completely willing to participate in. "Where you stationed?"

"I was in Hawaii at first," you say quietly, and he immediately gets the implication. Although you both now know what you saw, and the topic is in your heads, neither of you explore that further. "Later got stationed at some place in the Pacific. Like you. Though, I was on the ocean, not an island."

"What's your kill count?" He asks, and he leans forward just a little bit, drawing closer to you.

"Does it really matter?" You ask in return.

"'Course it does. You gonna be out here tellin' me you didn't count?"

"I didn't," you say truthfully. "A bit hard to see how many y' kill from a thousand feet in the air."

"Y'ever do parachute drops?"

"Once," you say. "Did you?"

"Nah, parachute drops ain't nothin' compared to the shit I did," he says, dismissing the notion as if it wasn't important. Now he's trying to impress you – again.

"Really?" You ask, almost sarcastic, but you manage to hold that part back. "What is it that you did then that was so much more terrifying and dangerous than freefalling through the atmosphere?"

"Try carryin' mortars on ya back in searing heat, n' all the while you n' ya company's out takin' a little hike 'cross a whole island filled with Japs," he says cockily, angling his chin upwards in a motion that accentuates his already sharp-as-hell jawline.

"Wow, a whole island," you say sarcastically, but he sees the humor behind it.

"Hey, Japan's an island too an' they big enough that they got the whole nation in uproar," he points out.

"Whatever makes you feel better," you say, taking a sip of your drink.

"What's your rank anyway?" He asks as he puts his drink on the counter, crossing his arms.

"I'm a major," you say, and once again the light dies in his eyes. You almost want to spare him the embarrassment of telling you his own rank, but you are curious, and it's just too fun to let him off. "What's your rank?"

"... corporal," he answers quietly, and you have to hold back a laugh. You try really hard, you really do, just so hard not to laugh, but you end up snorting anyway, and you can't even begin to work on your smile.

"Alright, corporal," you say, still trying not to laugh. Placing your own drink down on one of the bar coasters you turn to him, curling his loose tie around one of your hands and pulling him forward, practically devouring his nervous delight. "Y' really wanna play this game?"

"I'm the one who started it, ain't I?" He says, and you admire his tenacity to talk back to a superior officer.

"What's your full name and title, Corporal?"

"Corporal Merriel Shelton," he answers softly, his eyes suddenly stuck on the words that form on your blushing lips. "Ma' friends jus' call me Snafu, though."

"Mmm," you hum, looking him up and down much like he'd done to you earlier, "the hell you do to earn that kind a' name?"

"Oh, I'm just reckless, baby," he says with a smirk, gaining the confidence needed to lean into your touch more. You can feel his hips almost pressed against yours, the feeling doing nothing but making you pull his tie even more, a smile beginning to tug at the edges of your lips.

"Mind showin' me?"

"Not at all," he says in the impossibly low voice of his, and with that you're his, if only for the evening.

#merriel snafu shelton #snafu x reader #the pacific hbo #rami malek #rami malek character #gender neutral reader

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