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ollieofthebeholder · 9 months ago

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to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 119: May 2018

For the first, possibly only, time in his second life—maybe in his entire life—Gerard Keay existed in a single, solitary moment.

Ordinarily his every breath was simultaneously one he was taking for the first time, one he would take someday, and one he had taken a thousand times over. He could see every point in his life from every angle and every near-death experience that every person in the world had ever had. The whispers and echoes even suggested to him that, with a little effort and concentration, he could see every near-death experience that every person in the world would or could ever have, including the one that would eventually get so near as to tip them over the edge…if he so chose. Which he did not. As himself, he didn’t want to know about future suffering…and as a servitor of the End, it did not please his master simply to know that such things would happen, only to taste the fear of someone experiencing it—or anticipating that experience. Since he wasn’t the sort to sit behind a crystal ball wrapped in a turban and put on a mysterious voice to “caution” people about their impending doom, looking into the future was useless.

But right now, standing in the Panopticon built for Millbank Prison, staring at the body of someone he’d tried to consider a friend watching him with the eyes—eye—of someone he knew to be an enemy, he wished he had used it, just once, to see how this turned out.

Except. Except he couldn’t have. Whether because of the journey out of, or through, or alongside time or because of the way the Panopticon was warded to protect Jonah Magnus’ original body or for some other reason that he couldn’t quite manage to put his finger on, this moment existed solely and entirely in and of itself. Gerry couldn’t sense any of the moments strung along his past like beads on a necklace, nor see the black marks of death on any of the people in the room. Yet he wasn’t without power—he’d sensed the instant before the gun went off, felt the death of Peter Lukas add to the energy rush he’d got from destroying the two Hunters, tasted the disgust upon looking at Elias Bouchard’s body and realizing that nothing had truly died when Basira shot it—so it was only warded against being seen or felt or known from the outside, not from any other power wreaking havoc when it got here.

He just didn’t know what to do with that.

“Basira, what did you do?” Daisy demanded, her voice full of dread.

“Exactly what I meant for her to do.” Basira—or Jonah Magnus piloting Basira’s body—pushed to her feet and stood in front of them, as though this were an everyday workplace briefing, an image marred only by the splatters of blood on the jacket of her charcoal suit. “You see, Peter Lukas brought her here to destroy…that.” She gestured grandly at Jonah Magnus’ corpse without taking her heterochromatic gaze off of the rest of them. “He told her that doing so would destroy me, destroy my hold on the Institute, and put Basira—a mix of the Lonely and the Eye—in the proper position to take control of the Panopticon herself. Basira, of course, didn’t truly believe him.”

“Was he telling the truth?” Martin asked in a barely controlled voice that told Gerry he was having a hard time resisting the urge to compel Jonah��it seemed easier to think of the person speaking to them Jonah despite the outward form—despite knowing it wouldn’t work.

“About the first part, perhaps,” Jonah said carelessly. “I don’t actually know. Nobody’s ever tried before. The second, however—no, that is by no means how it works. Basira would no more have been in control of the Panopticon than she was of the Institute at any point in the last few months. Still, it’s immaterial, because she wisely chose not to trust Peter Lukas, and instead shot him. She is quite a good shot. And the instant she had shot him, she also shot Elias Bouchard.” A smirk curled Basira’s mouth. “Which is precisely what I wanted her to do.”

“Why?” Melanie began, and then stopped and stared at him. “Your eye. That’s how you fucking change bodies all the time—it’s tied to your eye. You just transferred it into Basira’s head.”

“A simplistic explanation, but it will do,” Jonah agreed. “The transfer is triggered by the death of one host body, and automatically takes over the next. I wasn’t entirely sure how well it would work without both eyes, but as you can see…it’s done admirably.”

“Let her go.” Daisy spoke sharply and firmly, but Gerry could hear the tiny note of pleading in her voice. He really, really hoped Jonah couldn’t.

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, Detective,” Jonah said, and even Gerry thought it was weird to hear the word Detective directed at Daisy out of Basira’s mouth. “Haven’t you heard that the eyes are the window to the soul? Well, I have, metaphorically speaking, closed the shutters. I’ve taken over Basira’s life force. I—nngh.”

He contorted, the same way Michael had when the Distortion tried to reassert control—the same way Martin did when he was fighting back the Eye—the same way Gerry knew he himself did when he was being punished for not giving the End what it wanted. There was a struggle going on. When he—no, she looked up, there was something—a relaxing of the posture, a determined set to the jaw, a flash of fear in the eye—that said Basira had gained the upper hand, at least for a moment.

“Daisy,” she gritted out. “Kill me. It’s the only way to get him out—aah—”

She contorted again, rolling her head on her neck, and resumed the posture that said Jonah was back in control. More calmly, he said, “Yes, that is true, but I will simply move on to the next body.”

“Don’t care,” Daisy growled. “Try to take me over, I fucking dare you. I’ll gouge you out of my head myself.”

“Ah, but it won’t be you, Detective,” Jonah said silkily.

“You think I’m going to let anyone else get close enough to you?” Daisy took a step forward. Gerry could read the grief on her face. He didn’t see the black marks on any of them, which could have meant they weren’t going to die, or could have meant there was no way they survived. Or could have meant that part of his power was suppressed here, in this place where only the Eye was allowed to see, and that seemed the most likely.

Which was fine. He would rather not know for sure. At the same time…

“It’s not proximity.” Jonah spread Basira’s hands out and smiled. It was not a nice smile. “I can control whom I take over, should there be more than one…option in the room. And if I simply transfer my consciousness into Martin’s body, well, I can use him as intended—to start my ritual—without having to resort to threats.”

“What?” Jon and Melanie shouted in angry, terrified unison.

“To bring the Eye into the world?” Martin raised his chin slightly and stared Jonah down with a triumphant smirk. “Nice try. It wouldn’t work. I’ve been Marked—”

“By all fourteen Fears,” Jonah completed.

“Thirteen,” Martin said, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, just for a moment.

“I had suspected—or rather hoped—you didn’t know about that fourteenth one,” Jonah said, almost pleasantly. “Not that you understood, of course, but even if you had…oh, you would have continued to believe you weren’t of use anyway. Either way, it meant you came here, just when I needed you.”

“What are you talking about, old man?” Gerry growled.

The look in the grey eye was cold as it skimmed over Gerry. “Don’t think I don’t know who you are. Even without Basira’s memories.”

“I don’t actually give a flying fuck if you do or not, you body-stealing bastard.” Gerry glanced at Martin, then at Daisy, very briefly. They needed a plan here. None of them had one. They weren’t even sure what they were planning against, which meant there was only one thing to do. Stall.

“He asked you a question,” Martin said, his voice low and dangerous. “What are you talking about?”

“The keystone of the ritual I devised to—oh.” Jonah sighed with pleasure in a way that made Jon and Martin shudder. Even Gerry felt slimy at the way that sigh caressed the air.

Daisy snarled. “If you even think the word tingle, I will snap your fucking neck.”

“You would do that to your partner?” Jonah tried to raise one of Basira’s eyebrows and seemed annoyed that he couldn’t seem to manage it. Evidently Basira’s muscles didn’t work that way.

“Not my partner,” Daisy snapped. “She made that very fucking clear. And it sounds like Martin is strong enough to force an answer out of you if he tries hard enough, but the effort might kill him and then he’d be no use to you, yeah? Can’t go into a dead body. So tell us what the fuck your plan is. Not like we can stop it anyway.”

“That is true,” Jonah agreed. “It’s far too late for that. If you’ll all get comfortable…”

None of them moved. Jonah didn’t seem bothered by it. “Fine. Then I’ll begin.”

He steepled his fingers. It probably would have been more effective if he’d been leaning his elbows on a desk and resting his chin on the tips of them, but it would do well enough. “I suppose we should start at the beginning, as I’m sure you’re curious—why does a man attempt to destroy the world?”

“Power. Immortality.” Martin’s expression didn’t change, but Gerry heard the faint, gentle hiss of static in his words. “You’re not special in that regard. And if you tried to tell me there was any other motivation, I wouldn’t believe you. The Magnus family was rich but never rich enough, powerful but only in specific circles, important but never the kind another wealthy or powerful family would seek an alliance through marriage with, so you never had the opportunity for the kind of legacy the others in Smirke’s circle meant to build, did you? It was always about you. You meant it to happen during your first lifetime, and you failed, so you had to resort to…” He made a peremptory gesture that nevertheless conveyed his disgust at the unequal eyes. “This.”

The grey eye flickered with anger, and Gerry tensed, wondering—but before he could do anything, Jonah dropped his posture and placed one hand on his hip, looking not at Gerry but at Melanie with narrowed eyes. Gerry hadn’t even seen her start to move. “I would advise you not to do that, Melanie. I may need Martin, but I do not need the rest of you.”

Melanie froze. Gerry didn’t need to see her face to feel the burning hatred radiating off of it. Martin wrapped his hand around Jon’s, but made no other move. “Go on, then. We’ve established we’re more curious about the last three years than the previous two hundred. Is this why you appointed me to the Archives in the first place? To use for your ritual?”

“Oh, no,” Jonah said, relaxing and returning his gaze to the group at large, as pleasantly as if he hadn’t just threatened all of them. “On the contrary, you were…almost an unnecessary complication, at first. No, I had intended to use Jon.” He flicked his gaze to Jon briefly. “You came to me with the Mark of the Web already on you…Sasha had it too, of course, but I knew that Gertrude had, ah, marked her out as a potential successor and I was not about to risk my plans being delayed any further. So I selected you as the Archivist. My intention was to watch you, see how you handled the first inevitable attack that came your way, and then proceed. As for you, Martin, I appointed you as an Archival Assistant in hopes it would draw more attention to them. You were, ah, rather well known in our community as a troublemaker, and I was sure that anyone who knew you were working closely with the new Archivist would assume—correctly, as it happens—that a Beholding ritual was in the works, and attempt to stop it. It also had the added benefit of ensuring you could not quit and join another Fear’s ritual, knowingly or unknowingly.”

He spread out his hands briefly. “Of course, it hardly took any time before you came to Jane Prentiss’ attention, and led her—as I had hoped—directly to the Institute. When she attacked, I was watching from the beginning, my hand on the release lever. You performed well enough, Jon. I had intended to wait longer, to make sure the worms were all the way in and that you felt that fear down to your bones…but, well, circumstances dictated otherwise.” He flicked a contemptuous gaze at Gerry, just for a moment. “Still, it was enough to move ahead with.

“It took me some time after the attack to locate you, actually, and I do congratulate you on that. But when you and Melanie took your trip to Sheffield, I was watching you quite closely. I knew, of course, that Martin had likely filled you in on a great deal, although I was uncertain of how much. Still, the fact that you went willingly into a situation you knew was dangerous told me two things—first, that your curiosity would drive you into most places, and second, that your desire to protect those around you would drive you the rest of them. I tried to sow the seeds of paranoia between you, but even I admit that that was never particularly likely to succeed. The Stranger’s insertion into the Institute was a boon, of course, but as it remained primarily out of your orbit I was less concerned with it and more interested in the Spiral. After Sasha’s encounter with it, I thought it would be easy to nudge it to Mark you. In the end I had to bring one of its victims to the Institute—poor Helen, I had to put her in a cab myself, she was so confused—but she served her purpose. Between that and your first desperate flight through its tunnels, the Spiral has Marked you very deeply indeed.”

Jon put a hand on his side, but said nothing. It was as though they were all transfixed by the monologue. Jonah continued. “Jurgen Leitner was unexpected, and I admit I somewhat overreacted to that situation. I was still, of course, pretending at the time that I was unaware of just how much you knew, which was useful. I did not lie when I said I was concerned he might have told you too much too early, but it was nothing to do with the Fourteen and everything to do with what I worried Gertrude might have told him about my plans. I justified it to myself with the thought that I had meant to send you out into the world anyway. From there it was simply a matter of feeding you a few carefully curated statements to put you in the path of other Avatars. I was quite annoyed that Martin intervened and confronted Jude Perry before you could, but he was at least generous enough to hand over the late Mike Crew’s information so that you could, at least, get that Mark.

“I had not, I confess, paid a great deal of attention to Martin at that point. All of your assistants were little more than a means to an end, and while Martin had the potential to be either far more useful or far more of an obstruction, I was confident at that point that I could remove him without difficulty if necessary. But when you all gathered in my office to get me to confess to Gertrude’s murder, I certainly took notice.” Jonah’s gaze shifted to focus more on Martin than the rest of them, although Gerry could tell they were all, somehow, still pinned by it like flies in amber. “I had known you had some connection to the Ceaseless Watcher, but I had no idea how strong it was. I also had not realized just how many Marks you had yourself. I counted seven in total—the same number that Jon had. I still intended to use Jon for my plans, but I did begin watching you. And then the Stranger came after Jon, and you sacrificed yourself for him.

“Of course, by now I’m sure you know that I was always aware of where you were and what was happening to you. I knew that one of two things would happen. Either you would survive somehow, or Orsinov would in fact skin you and use you to attempt the Unknowing. I confess that I thought that the more likely outcome, and I had already laid my plans to isolate Jon from the remainder of the staff, to use your fate as a way to push him to acquire more Marks, perhaps to stray further afield from the Institute. Instead, the Spiral freed you and returned you to the Institute. And in that moment, I changed my plans. Your powers were growing quite strong, stronger than I think even you realized at the time, and it seemed to me you would make a better linchpin for the ritual. So I sent you to follow Gertrude’s path, knowing that something would attack you while you were gone.

“As soon as Miss Montauk met you at the Amtrak station, I knew you would be in a…desperate situation, shall we say, in addition to getting your own Hunt Mark. Rather than risk you heading to an embassy for assistance afterwards, I contacted an old friend who was able to get to America quickly and suggested he pick you up, that several weeks trapped on a boat with no sign of land or other vessels—only the empty sky and the fathomless depths of the sea—would be an amusing and novel way of tormenting someone. He fell for it, of course. He was always easy to manipulate with a bit of ‘fun.’ I even told him not to introduce himself to you, as you’d be more likely to trust him if you pieced together half stories and vague references and came to the entirely erroneous conclusion that I had sent Peter to pick you up.” Jonah smirked. “You still believe that, don’t you, Martin? But ask yourself—why would Peter have bothered to keep you company? Let alone point out the ‘sights’? No, it was not Peter Lukas you encountered. It was Simon Fairchild, and those weeks you spent knowing there was nothing between you and drowning but a bit of leaky wood Marked you sufficiently enough with the Vast.

“I admit that the Mark I worried the most about was the End. I was not yet aware that your…” Jonah glanced briefly at Gerry, and the expression was actually probably the most Basira-like face he’d seen since bursting in here as he continued, “…friend was here, but even so, you weren’t truly afraid of him. The biggest problem I faced was that if I put the End in your way too soon, you would simply die, whereas if I did so too late you might be powerful enough to see it coming, and perhaps even to guess why. But the Hunters took care of that well enough. I wonder if you realized it? No, of course you didn’t. But if you had ever listened back to the tape you brought back from that incident, perhaps you, if not the others, would have been able to sense it—the exact point during your father’s statement where your breathing stopped in the background. The point where, in fact, you did bleed out, Martin. The timing was just right, and you once again came through with flying colors.”

Gerry’s stomach lurched, and Jon swayed on his feet, but Martin remained impassive and steady as Jonah went on. “I could see from the debriefing we had immediately prior to the Unknowing that it was fortunate for me that the time before it was so short. Your abilities were coming on by leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face to face might result in you learning something you shouldn’t. I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was easy enough to cut a deal.

“All that remained, then, were the Flesh, the Slaughter, and the Web. The Flesh was easy enough; I simply wrote to Jared Hopworth, and he attacked with remarkable haste. Of course by that point you were well able to defend yourselves against him and his ilk, but it was terrifying enough that you didn’t know that for sure, so the Mark was made. I was thoroughly unconcerned about the Slaughter. I had initially trapped Melanie for no other reason than because I knew Jon was hiding with her, and perhaps as potential leverage against you should I need to use it, but by the time I had chosen to use you, I knew she would eventually Mark you herself.

“That left only the Web, and I admit, I was rather hard pressed to think of how to put you in its way. Jon and Sasha, of course, were both Marked by it, and they were beginning to lean into it more than they did the Eye, but not nearly quickly enough to Mark you. Melanie made most of her progress towards the Slaughter while you were away, or before your powers were sufficient to truly see it, whereas even Jon’s shifting allegiance was done directly under your nose, and in such a way that you were bound to detect it before it was enough to actually Mark you. I racked my brain to find a way to get the Web to do more than lurk around the outskirts of the Institute, but nothing seemed foolproof enough. Unsurprising, really, that something that thrives on manipulation and maneuvering would be difficult to manipulate in turn. But then Annabelle Cane set the bait out herself…and you took it, Martin, without a moment’s hesitation.

“And not a moment too soon, either. Peter felt you were getting too close to figuring out his plans, and decided to make his play for final control of the Institute. I had, of course, proposed a wager, allowed him to attempt to turn any employee of his choosing to the Lonely, and said that if he succeeded he would gain permanent control of the Institute. Really, Basira was the best choice for that from his point of view. She had the fewest tethers, she felt the most abandoned, and even before she began working closely with Peter, she thought she had nothing to lose. If only he hadn’t tried so hard.” Jonah laughed, rather cruelly. “Or just done what I asked him to do in the first place. But no, he had to try and get her on his side, convince her this was to save the world. He set off with her to find this place, while you set off for Hill Top Road. Melanie and Jon followed you to rescue you, and once I was sure you would arrive on time, I broke out of prison and came here to meet Peter and Basira…and to wait for you. I had intended to call you to me, but as it turned out, there was no need.

“And so there was only Basira’s decision. Peter told her that destroying my original body would let him—through her—control the Panopticon and see how close the Extinction was to genesis. He offered to let her kill me. Of course I knew what choice she would ultimately make. Could she have chosen anything else? And now…” Jonah spread out his hands. “Here we all are.”

Martin drew in a ragged breath, and Gerry could see that he was trembling slightly. For several seconds that Gerry could practically feel, nobody spoke.

Finally, Melanie broke the silence. “Why?”

Jonah blinked. He looked faintly annoyed. “I’m sorry?”

“Why this?” Melanie gestured emphatically at Martin and Jon. “Like, I get that you’re a sadistic bastard, you probably get off on torturing people, but the Ceaseless Watcher doesn’t get anything out of pain, so what was the point in traumatizing Martin over and over and over? How does that help you take over the fucking world?”

“Ah.” Just like that, Jonah was all self-satisfied smiles again. “That’s certainly simple enough to explain. It was Gertrude Robinson who gave me the idea, actually. She was unlike any other Archivist ever seen before—almost single-minded in her devotion to take down the rituals—and over the years, I couldn’t help but watch with fascination. It made me wonder why no ritual ever had succeeded before. It was possible there had been a long line of Gertrude Robinsons, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed? She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church. When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago. Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated — but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what needed to be done.

“You see, the fact of the matter is that the Fears can never be truly separated. Where is the line where fear of senseless violence crosses over into fear of being hunted, or the mask of the Stranger turns to the confusion of the Spiral? Even ones that seem to be in opposition cannot exist without one another, for how can you fear the Buried if you don’t know there is an alternative? The rituals intending to bring only one into the world were always doomed to fail. We call them by their own names, but in the end, they are all Fear, and they are all one. The only way to bring them through is to recognize all parts of it, and welcome it. So I crafted a new ritual, one that would invoke all of the Fourteen at once—with the Eye to oversee, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots. And that is where you come in.”

“You had me Marked with all fourteen Fears so I would be a conduit for all of them,” Martin said, his voice laden with horror. “So I could—what, channel them all?”

“Of course.” Jonah’s smile took on a decidedly cruel curve. “The moment I knew it would work was the moment I saw that the contracts had changed—that you were the Archivist, Martin. As I told you at the time, that had never happened before…because it never mattered before who the Archivist was. The timing wasn’t right, the groundwork wasn’t laid. This time it was—and the Ceaseless Watcher selected its own standard-bearer.” He sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s a shame—I had enjoyed the potential irony that the so-called Chosen One was, in the end, simply someone I chose. But I suppose, in the end, the irony is even greater—because you chose it.”

“Like hell he did,” Melanie spat.

Jonah lifted both eyebrows, evidently having decided to take the best alternative to a single arched eyebrow that was readily available to him. “Didn’t he? Did he not press on to investigate the hints of the Corruption he saw in that building? Did he not make an appointment with Jude Perry despite knowing what she was? Did he not sacrifice himself, again and again, to keep the rest of you safe? You had the knowledge that it would be safer to walk away—and still you chose to stay. Whether you want to believe it or not, your choices have led you here.”

“You talk too much, you smarmy bastard,” Tim growled.

But not enough, Gerry thought. He had laid out his entire plan, told them exactly what he was planning and what he had prepared Martin for, been talking for what seemed like twenty minutes straight…and they still had no idea how to stop him. Or at least Gerry didn’t.

“You’ve failed,” Martin said defiantly. His eyes flashed green, and Gerry did at least have the small satisfaction of seeing that take Jonah a bit off guard. “Because there’s one choice I won’t make, and that’s to join you. By my grandfather’s love and my grandmother’s courage, by the might of the sea and the strength of the stone, by all that is and will be, I defy you, Jonah Magnus, and I will never willingly help you to doom the world.”

The power that crackled through those words was different than the one that usually accompanied Martin’s compulsions—closer to the whirring of a tape recorder—and Gerry knew that it was the spell Alastair had woven that gave him the power to say it. And for a moment, he thought it had worked, that it had given them an edge.

Jonah, however, simply smirked. “That’s not really an issue, is it?”

Sasha’s hands curled into fists. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I have all Basira’s knowledge, and skill. And most crucially…” Jonah reached to the small of his back and withdrew a heavy steel object. “I have her gun.”

All of them made various noises of shock and alarm, and Basira’s brown eye flashed with panic. Jon, with a bravery Gerry knew he didn’t believe he possessed—or maybe just a desperation—moved in front of Martin, but Gerry saw the panic in Daisy’s eyes and knew who it was for. Sure enough, Jonah tipped the gun towards the ceiling—towards Basira.

He meant to shoot her in the head. Meant to kill her with a single bullet, and transfer his eyes to Martin. And none of them knew enough about that process to stop it.

“No,” Daisy snarled. She leaped for Basira, but Jonah easily eluded her. He was having more trouble raising the gun, though. Evidently Basira’s remaining eye—something Jonah Magnus had never had to deal with—meant she, or part of her anyway, had survived the transfer.

It gave Gerry a bit of hope that, even if he managed to get his eye into Martin, Martin could fight him off long enough to…what?

“Jon,” Martin said in a low voice. He reached out, took Jon’s hand, and squeezed it tightly.

Jon looked up at him. Most of the others were watching Jonah, so Gerry was pretty sure he was the only one who saw the sudden look of raw, naked terror that suffused his features. “No,” he whispered, so softly Gerry was sure only he and Martin could hear it.

“It might be our only chance. You promised.” Martin took his eyes off of Jonah long enough to meet Jon’s, and that brief eye contact said more than the greatest romantic speeches in history.

And Gerry refused—refused—to have those be his little brother’s last words.

Time—

—fractures, shattering into a thousand crystalline shards radiating out from a central point, and Gerry realizes that this is the moment everything has led up to, the fragile tipping point between eternity and oblivion, the truest point of inevitability. There is no path that could have been taken, no universe that has or will ever existed, where someone has not been brought to the very edge of the end of the world, be it Martin or Jon or Sasha or Tim, or someone long dead or someone as yet unborn, someone is presented with the moment of knowing that their next action will cause the apocalypse, and while the exact moment in time may not be so certain, its existence is a fundamental part of the universe, and the End both hungers for and fears it. At the same time, there are just as many paths leading away from this point as leading to it, just as many ways it can go, and this moment will not come again, so they need only find the path that leads away and all will be—all will be—all will be, and that is all they can ask of it. They can save the world, if they can only find the right way out.

His vision flickers, and the moment that Martin turns to face Jonah and Daisy crouches to lunge for the gun and Melanie and Jon square up to sacrifice themselves, a moment he sees through his own eyes as well as each of theirs, is the same moment as every other, and he stands in the center of a rapidly twisting kaleidoscope of mirrors and images, past and present and yet to come all happening at once and indistinguishable from one another. He sees a series of men—tall, short, fat, thin, middle-aged and barely out of their thirties, all unknown except the one he knows as Elias Bouchard—stand before him with expressions of pride, surprise, or smug satisfaction, all of which fade rapidly to terror as he pulls out a knife or a gun or a vial of poison, then to shock as he uses it on himself, then hears their screams abruptly cut off as his vision arcs through the space between them and lets him see another body, at once well known and but half remembered. He sees the ghost of a man he knows has the face he will have when he gets old kneeling in front of him with worry in the echo of his green eyes as he reaches for his face, sees an ancient and obviously sick man’s eyes flare with anger as he draws a knife to plunge into his hand, sees a woman in a sleeveless shirt lean forward with a knowing smirk as she holds out her hand for him to shake. He sees a hundred moments of triumph or laughter or just resignation as they pass a lighter around while a book hangs suspended over a pot. He sees the collapsing tunnel beneath the Mermaid Inn and feels the mud choking him so that he can’t even sing the next verse of the song that might save them, sees the solid curtain of darkness enveloping him and making his glasses worse than useless, sees Melanie lunge at him with a knife she got from God knows where and plunge it into his shoulder. He sees a knife press into his wrist, sees a flash of purple as a book in a mess of a bargain bin catches his attention, sees the fog swirl around him and make everything unfamiliar and strange. He sees the empty sky and sea out the window of a boat, sees something thick and white press into his eyes, sees a mound of flesh shambling towards him with malicious intent. He sees Jon cup his face in his hands, stare into his eyes, and solemnly promise to kill him if he ever crosses the line fully from human to monster, and feels the relief coupled with the determination to do everything in his power to keep that from happening flow through him. He sees a woman wearing the remains of a red dress and a body riddled with holes smile beatifically at him and ask Do you hear the singing, sees a mannequin wearing a ringmaster’s costume and a Pagliaccio lean over to run a plasticine finger along his cheek and croon You know all about the power that can be written on a skin. He sees a pale, almost skeletal man with long black hair streaked orange and white land a sudden punch on his eye, which explodes into cold, agonizing pain such as he hasn’t felt in a long, long time—

—and snaps back to the present and to himself as he realizes what to do.

He circles behind Daisy, brushing her arm to get her attention as he does so, and moves up on Jonah’s—Basira’s left side, the side that still has her eye on it. Not taking his gaze from Jonah’s eye, he begins to sing. “Sally is a gal down in our alley…”

Melanie shoots him a quick look of confusion. Jonah, too, seems momentarily distracted from his attempt to shoot Basira’s body, although he recovers when the gun lowers and starts trying to raise it again. Daisy and Tim seem to get it first—a surprise, he would have thought Melanie and Martin would pick up on it quicker—and not only join in on the response portion but start moving as well, backing up and circling around Jonah/Basira as they sing. When the first chorus hits, though, Martin suddenly straightens, grabs Jon’s hand, and pulls him back as he begins to sing too. He lets Tim have the second verse, which is fine; it doesn’t matter what order they go in, only that they all take a turn before it gets back to Gerry.

There are probably better songs he could have picked, but it needs to be one with something they can all sing and with enough verses for them all to take one, and if it’s good and confusing, well, that works too. Certainly Jonah has no idea what’s going on, and he’s torn between struggling with Basira for control of the gun—she’s fighting him, Gerry is pleased to see—and trying to keep track of all of them.

Gerry lets the song buoy him. He feels the air around him grow colder, hears the rush of air he’s used to hearing when he draws on Terminus, and as he looks at the figure in the center of their milling circle, he sees the tendrils of black uncoiling from the back of Jonah’s eye and venturing throughout Basira’s body. The glow of life inside her is fighting back…but he can see that it’s losing. They’re not fully entwined yet, the death being visited on her by Jonah is used to enveloping and overwhelming and is only at a disadvantage because there’s half as much power as usual and it’s never had to do this before, but this is not a fight Basira can win on her own.

Luckily, she isn’t.

“Whatever you are planning,” Jonah says through clenched teeth as he struggles to wrench the gun upwards, “it won’t work.”

Sasha nearly stumbles over her verse, but manages to recover. “I left my gal to go a-sailing…”

She’s the last one in the rota. Gerry gathers one last burst of strength to himself and circles behind Jonah, feints to the left, and braces himself as they sing the chorus. He pops up in front of Jonah just as he manages to get the gun under Basira’s chin and has the satisfaction of seeing the look of shock and fear flash through his eye. Without conscious thought, he puts the same menacing ice into his voice as he did when speaking to Liliana Blackwood for the last time.

“Help me, Bob, I’m bully in the alley…bully down in Shinbone Al’…”

He reaches into the space in front of Jonah Magnus’ cold grey eye, clenches his fingers, and pulls.

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette pulled her coat closer around her as she made her way from the bus stop to her apartment. She had made the brilliant decision when she moved here not to get a car because… Gotham. The likelihood that it would get damaged or destroyed in some kind of attack was ridiculously high. The likelihood the bus would get blown up or taken over, while definitely still present, was significantly lower.

But today she was regretting that decision. It meant she couldn’t isolate herself like she wanted to. It meant she was exposed to anybody and everybody at the bus stop and on the bus and on the sidewalk and any one of them could have been the one to drug her. She eyed the people around her as she walked. Okay, maybe not the woman who looked like she was in her 90’s and could barely walk… and dropped her knitting out of her bag.

Marinette rushed over to her and paused right before reaching her. She twirled around and scanned the faces around her. She could feel somebody watching her. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her every move. She studied the shadows and the windows, but couldn’t find anyone watching her. She frowned slightly and shook her head. She was getting paranoid. She was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there.

She sighed and turned back to the woman, crouching down to help her put her knitting back in her bag. The woman smiled in appreciation, which Marinette returned with a shaky one of her own. She walked the remaining few feet to her apartment building and took a cautious look up and down the dark street before turning into it. She made sure she heard the click of the door latching before continuing up the stairs, not that it would do anything. Logically she knew that, but her anxiety still demanded it.

She kept her eyes on the stairwell as she made her way up to her apartment on the top floor, eyes hyper vigilant for any movement, her ears hyper sensitive to any sounds from the stairs. She got to her floor and paused for a few moments waiting to see if any sounds or movement indicated someone behind her. She let out a relieved sigh when there was no noise and turned to her apartment before letting out a muffled screech.

Jason jumped, dropping his phone he had been scrolling on, in his rush to hold up his hands in a placating motion. “Just me. It’s okay. It’s just me.” He watched her for a few seconds. She was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were boring into him. “Although I just realized you may not remember me. So this was actually an incredibly stupid plan.” He took a few steps away from her door, his hands still held up to let her know he wasn’t a threat.

Marinette continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing her breathing to slow. “You… you’re Tim’s brother, right? You… you were…” she squinted at him, “you were in my bedroom?”

Jason grimaced and looked down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… that doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

He perked up slightly and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing today. It can hit a day or a few days later sometimes. And I’m a security expert. I consult on it for people and companies. I wanted to offer to check your security for you so you’d feel safe, at least when you’re at home.” He turned to her door and knocked on the doorframe. “I can already tell that you need better locks. I could have broken in easily, but I didn’t think you would appreciate finding me in your apartment.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but let out a quiet chuckle and looked away after a few seconds. “You would be right.” She looked back up at him and tentatively walked over closer to her door. “But, I don’t think I can afford to hire you.”

Jason waved off her concern. “I wouldn’t let you. I’d charge Tim for it. He can afford it and he’s worried enough that I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t contacted me already, but I suppose that has something to do with him not wanting you to meet me in the first place.”

Marinette quirked her lips to the side and studied him. The longer she watched and talked to him the more memories came back and the clearer they became. She was slowly starting to get bits and pieces of the night before, not enough to create a coherent picture, just incredibly short scenes, a word here, a smile there. Regardless of what she could remember though, this was Tim’s brother and although Tim didn’t want them to meet, he trusted him, not that she would ever be allowed to say that out loud to either of them.

She finally nodded and pulled out her keys. “Well, I can at least offer you dinner while you’re here. If you’d like.” She gave him a small smile as she passed him into the apartment taking off her coat and dropping her bag on the small dining room table.

Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise. After the way she had reacted when she saw him, he honestly didn’t think she would talk to him let alone let him into her apartment. He was starting to understand how she could have gotten drugged so easily if she was that trusting. But then again, Tim had said they all were being careful. Her even more so than the others. So why was she so trusting now? “I would never turn down free food,” he said slowly.

He closed the door behind him with a quick glance at the inside part of the lock, confirming his original suspicions. Standard issue, not particularly secure. He could have picked it in all of three minutes when he was only eight. He didn’t have to lean down to study the doorknob to know it was in worse condition. One good kick and the door would be wide open. He sighed. If anyone wanted to get into her apartment, it wouldn’t take them very much effort.

He turned back to the apartment, letting his frown morph into a smile. Her apartment was cozy and lived in and very much her. There were touches of her everywhere along with some touches that he wouldn’t have expected. He shook his head at the condition of the apartment. It wasn’t terribly messy but it also wouldn’t count as anything close to clean. He could see why she and Tim got along so well. Neither could clean up after themselves to save their lives.

There were bits of fabric and half completed sewing projects scattered around along with random pages of scientific reports. He raised an eyebrow at that. Odd combination. His eyes caught on men’s shoes by the door. He scrunched his forehead in confusion. If she lived with someone, where were they? Where were they last night? Why hadn’t Tim mentioned him? “You live with someone? A boyfriend?”

Marinette looked up from the refrigerator. “No. Well, yes, but no. I live with my best friend,” she explained quickly, “but he’s visiting friends this week.”

Jason nodded. That was good at least. She wasn’t living alone. There was someone else with her usually. That makes it less likely someone could just break in and attack her. He moved over to the window and sighed again, more deeply this time. It was worse than the door. “No curtains. You should probably get some, preferably lined ones. This lock is ancient too. It wouldn’t take much to jimmy it. We’ll get you new locks for your windows and your door.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed as she set a bunch of grapes and a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator on the counter. She hadn’t been expecting the locks to be that bad. She knew it wasn’t amazing, but then again, she hadn’t really been too concerned about being specifically targeted here. Nobody really knew who she was, or rather used to be. She was just an average citizen here.

She stared at the window for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side and her eyes unfocusing as her mind wandered through the possibilities of what could have happened and what still could. She was no longer safe, not even in her own home. But then again, she never really had been had she? She had just thought she was. She thought she was safer after they’d defeated Hawkmoth, but she’d just traded one danger for another.

Jason watched as her face morphed from one expression to another, her eyes distant. Her face clearly displaying each and every emotion she was going through, no matter how flitting. Jason could guess where her head went. When her eyes started shimmering, he opened his mouth to bring her out of it when her phone rang. She jerked back violently, knocking over the jug of water.

She cursed as she tried to stop the jug’s descent only to knock it further away, further spreading the water. She gave a defeated groan and grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer to start sopping up the water. Jason jumped to grab a few more towels to help. It took a few minutes, but they were finally able to clean up the water with a minimum of damage to papers left on the counter. Luckily, none of Marinette’s sketches were on the island anymore but Adrien was definitely going to have to reprint some of his papers for research.

Marinette gave Jason an appreciative smile and threw the papers in recycling and the towels in the sink. She let out a deep frustrated sigh as she leaned against the counter. After a few seconds, she ran her hands through her hair and laughed. Jason frowned at the sound. It was short and mirthless and sounded utterly wrong coming from her. He could see her starting to spin but didn’t know her well enough to know how to help. God, he really hadn’t thought this through.

Jason very slowly started reaching for her so she could see his hands coming. Shen she didn’t shy away, he set a hand on her arm to ground her. She looked up into his eyes, panicked eyes meeting concerned eyes. They both jumped when her phone started ringing again. They both chuckled quietly at their reactions.

“Sorry…” she started but was cut off by another ring. She shook her head at herself. She hadn’t even noticed the original call had dropped. She checked the caller id and smiled at the phone. “Hey Tim.” She paused to listen to him. “No, I’m fine. I just… I knocked something over and was cleaning it. Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave Jason an apologetic smile as she listened to Tim. “I’m doing okay, I guess. I think I’m just jumpy… and getting paranoid. I could have sworn someone was watching me walk home, but when I looked nobody was around or rather nobody was paying attention to me.” She missed the slight grimace Jason shot toward the floor. “No, thank you though. Actually, your brother is here already.” She smiled at Jason again and put Tim on speaker.

“…that so. That’s very thoughtful of him,” Tim quipped in a clipped tone.

“Yeah, he’s checking my locks,” Marinette continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension in his voice, or attributing it to his concern. “Apparently my door and window locks are pretty bad,” Marinette frowned at the thought.

“Uh huh. Well it’s just so great that he came over then,” Tim gritted out.

Marinette did a double take when Jason’s phone dinged repeatedly with an extended series of text notifications. She blinked at it a few times before looking questioningly at Jason. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off. He met her eyes with a shrug and a wink as he sat at her island.

“Tell him I say hi and remind him he has plans with Bruce soon,” Tim continued tightly.

Jason huffed. “Tell him to tell B, I'm not going on patrol until Demon Spawn calms down. And tell him I’m sending him the bill for this.” He motioned vaguely around them.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim conceded easily before his voice turned harsh again, “And tell him…”

“You two do realize you can hear each other and you two both know you can hear each other and I know you can hear each other and I’m not an owl!” Marinette admonished them sharply.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Tim started chuckling. “Sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She nodded at the phone even though he couldn’t see her.

“Hey! That makes me Ron? What the fuck?” Jason objected raising up from his seat in offense.

“Oh come on, you’d look good with red hair,” Marinette teased him lightly.

“You better fucking not be Ron,” Tim growled. “You’re more like Draco anyway,” he continued flippantly.

“Fuck you, Pretender,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, this is making me feel better,” Marinette sighed, leaning against the counter.

There was a guilty pause as the men took in her words. “Sorry,” Jason finally spoke up after a while.

“What?” Marinette gave him a curious look until realization set in. “Oh! No, I was serious. You two remind me of my friends. It feels comforting, normal.”

Tim waited a second before speaking up cautiously. “So… you’re okay for tonight? You feel safe?”

Marinette smiled at the phone again. “Yeah, Tim. I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course. Let me know if that changes. I’ll be over in three minutes flat,” he promised.

Marinette grinned mischievously. “Do I get a free pizza if you take longer?”

Tim huffed out a laugh. “Absolutely.”

“Sweet. I might test it just for that,” she teased him. “Night, Tim.”

“Night. And tell Jason to turn his phone back on before I do it for him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Still not an owl,” she singsonged before she hung up. She looked over to Jason with a concerned smile. “Do you have to go? It sounded like you already had plans?”

Jason waved her off and took the battery out of his phone before leaning against the counter near her. “I have plenty of time. Like I said, if I show up now De… Damian is going to attack me.” Marinette’s eyes widened in concern but Jason waved her off again. “It’s fine. He isn’t as tough as he thinks he is. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but Bruce would yell at me for it and Dick would give me his disappointed in you lecture. It’s better for everyone if I stay away for a few days.”

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tim just doesn’t want me stealing his friend away with my superior looks and charm.”

Marinette scowled lightly at him. “Tim is very handsome and charming,” she insisted defensively.

Jason shot her a devilish smile. “But not as much as me, right?”

Marinette scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “You certainly seem to think so.” She rinsed some grapes and set them in a bowl between the two of them. “But he’s the only reason you’re here right now. If you weren’t Tim’s brother and we hadn’t met last night when you were fairly respectful of me in my… state…”

“Fairly!?” Jason squawked.

“I’d have called, well, not the cops, but Tim, to take care of you,” she continued over him. She grabbed a grape and chewed on it while she watched him appraisingly as she leaned back against the counter opposite him. “Do you make a habit of stealing his friends?”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a few grapes. “No, we generally move in different…” he searched for a nice way to phrase it, “circles.”

She hummed in response. “And yet here you are, willingly entering in a circle with one of his friends.” She eyed him pointedly. She quickly broke their eye contact to look down and cross her arms over her chest protectively. “Thank you for breaking into this particular circle to help me out. Last night spooked me more than I want to admit.”

“Did you want to talk about it? Or pretend like it never happened. I can help with either,” Jason offered.

Marinette stared at the grapes for a while without talking. Jason was certain she was about to start spiraling again when she spoke up quietly. “I was keeping an eye on my drinks. I only took my eyes off of them when I was around people I trusted and we weren’t exactly close to other people for someone to just slip something in.” She frowned and looked at nothing in particular. She poured herself a glass of water and held the rim of the glass against her lips without drinking it as she remembered the night before. “I don’t know which scares me more, that someone was that good to get it in with all of us there or…”

“That one of the people you trust might be responsible,” Jason finished for her after a few seconds of silence. When she looked up to meet her eyes, she looked so shaken and uncertain, he wanted to pull her into a tight, reassuring hug, but after the night before, he wasn’t sure a virtual stranger’s embrace would be the most reassuring. He settled for moving to lean against the counter next to her so their arms were almost touching, but she still had her personal space.

“Yeah,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.

“You think you were the intended victim?” he asked curiously. He and Tim had already discussed the night and decided that she had to be, but he was curious what her thoughts were. “You don’t think it was just opportunistic. You think whoever was with targeting you.”

She shook her head and looked down, frowning at the floor. She gripped her arms tighter. “I don’t know. I was never alone and I only drank with my friends at our own table away from other people. I mean someone at the bar could have drugged it before it was brought over when the waitress brought drinks but…”

“How would they know who it would go to,” Jason finished again. “Seems unlikely they’d risk the drug like that if they didn’t know who it would go to. If they didn’t have a plan to get the person out.”

Marinette looked up at him anxiously and nodded. She studied him for a few more seconds before she shook herself out of her daze. She looked up at him with a fake smile. “So what are you feeling for dinner? I can make some pasta. I can do stir fry. I can whip up a casserole. What do you want?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you feel like having tonight,” he assured her with a smile.

“I don’t… really… feel like eating,” she mumbled, looking away again. “This is more something for me to focus on instead of last night.”

Jason gave her a gentle smile and lowered himself to her level, trying to gain her attention. “Look, I know you don’t know me but why don’t we order take out and we can watch a movie, or if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she answered quickly, instantly looking over to him with a desperate look in her eyes.

Jason nodded slowly and gave her a gentle smile. He rested his hands lightly on her arms to reassure her he was there and not going anywhere unless she wanted him to. “That’s understandable. I wouldn’t want to be either. Do you want me to call Tim over? I know you probably feel safer with him and when he can’t be here in three minutes, you get a pizza.”

She gave him a wan smile. “No, I trust you. And I’m not really feeling pizza right now.”

Jason smiled back. “I want to joke and say that’s a terrible decision, but now doesn’t seem like the best time.” She gave him a deadpan look that made his grin widen. “I’ll save that for later,” he finished with a wink. His expression quickly turned serious as he watched her. “You should eat though. What kind of food do you want to try? There’s a good Indian restaurant around the corner.”

She looked away. “I don’t want to order out. I don’t want food that I…”

Jason nodded and moved closer again. “Yeah, that’s reasonable. Let’s make something together, yeah? I saw some eggs and milk in your refrigerator and there’s bread on the counter. How do you feel about breakfast for dinner? French toast sound good? I think you call it Lost Bread? And how do you feel about Clueless?”

“The movie?” she asked confused.

“Yeah, adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.”

“Fan of Alicia Silverstone or Jane Austen?” she teased weakly.

“Both,” Jason answered with a wink.

Marinette snickered and nodded. “That all sounds amazing.” She moved away to start getting the pan and bowls out, watching him while he got the ingredients prepared. “Thank you, Jason. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No problem. We’ll get things figured out so you can feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel in Gotham,” he assured her, and himself. They were going to find who drugged her and make her feel safe again. Whoever it was messed with one of Tim’s friends, one of the few he really trusted, that means whoever it was messed with his family and nobody messed with their family.

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @demonicbusiness @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - night #Jasonette Protection Program

152 notes · View notes

vrisrezis · 4 years ago

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aot characters having a crush + dating hcs (havent proof read sorry for any mistakes)

- she understands that there’s something that draws you to her, however doesn’t fully understand what it is at first

- it’s enough to make her be more interested in you rather than the yeagers

- she believes that it might be your strength that’s overwhelming (and if you have overwhelming strength she is convinced that’s what it is for awhile)

- it is until she sees how Niccolo and Sasha are with eachother does she actually realize that what she feels is love and attraction towards you

- upon realizing this, doesn’t know what to do at first

- she was originally professional, but often kept to your side and felt an odd protectiveness admiration towards you

- now, she was much more casual and more flirtatious

- while acting confident around you, she secretly got butterflies.. you made her ... nervous ..

- nonetheless flirting with you is often, sometimes going as far as to kiss your hand

- she wants to properly court you and get you to return her feelings. She’d feel really bad if you never felt the same. Especially since she isn’t as used to the feeling

- it takes a long time for her to finally ask you out officially, but she does and is pleased by your answer

- however being with yelena isn’t easy, she isn’t one to follow you around like a lost puppy

- she had her motivations, she’s a yeagerist. If you’re not okay with that she isn’t gonna care enough to bother to stay along.

- she feels bad of course, she loves you after all but still

- if she ever had to go against you it hurt her but she would also understand it just needs to be done

- when that mess is over though she is fine with just sticking by your side

- or if you join her it just makes your relationship stronger and better

- doesn’t like pda cuz people might think she’s weak but she’s very soft when you guys are alone though

- lots of smooches from her

- she loves to tease you as well, she can’t help it though..

- she says you’re just so cute she has to bully you a little (more like a lot)

- secretly wants you two to get married so one day she will purpose be prepared for it

- she knows it’s stupid but hey... she has some hope

- secretly feels lucky to be with you even if she doesn’t say it

- doesn’t say that she loves you as often as she’d like, which she feels bad for deep down

- she doesn’t always know how to be vulnerable and express herself, while yes it does happen it takes time

- in a way you are her safe space and you make her calmer

- in a way, you were her hope and her god more than zeke ever was.. and that’s because you allowed to her to feel freedom, to feel love and to feel being loved, you’re more of a god to her now more than .. anyone else

- so maybe she tends to be a bit too protective, and maybe she tends to be very short with others that wanna talk to you because she wants your attention, aaaand maybe she tends to go overboard for you because she believes you saved her...

- so maybe she shows she loves you through actions rather than words

(While I don’t like her in the romantic sense she is my second best girl so I felt it was almost necessary)

- having a crush is always complicated, especially when you’re a kid.

- when you’re a kid as stubborn and prideful as gabi though, it’s even more complicated.

- she doesn’t even realize she likes you either, she’s too into her own head. Too overconfident to think about other people and especially in that way .. she’s oblivious, even to her own emotions

- she can’t help but wanna be around you all the time though, that’s something not even she can ignore

- she tries to impress you often, she will do the dumbest shit just to get you to pay attention to her in some way

- she works harder than normal, falco notices that immediately and catches onto what’s going on

- she tries to act tougher around you, just better in general

- she gets protective of you, when she does something stupid and you follow along she gets really angry and doesn’t understand why

- eventually after a talk with falco, she realizes (finally) that she likes you but never knows how to approach something like that

- eventually works up to the courage to tell you how she really feels about you but it’s really rushed

- is very happy when you guys start dating though

- doesn’t know how relationships should go.. important to keep in mind it’s her first relationship and you guys are just kids

- everyone likes you guys together though

- often grabs your hand, as her way of trying to keep you protected

- she hates getting you involved in her messes but it happens very often and she feels bad about it like everytime

- the first time you kissed she was a blushy mess wow

- yeah you’re the only one that’ll make her so flustered like that

- and it’s easy too, all you gotta do is kiss her cheek, or hand, and she loses it

- she lets you do her hair every morning, ah so today you decided to do her normal look? With the ponytail with some hair down? Or maybe a full on ponytail? Or maybe a little braid, or maybe just leaving her hair down for the day? Yeah who knows! Really she doesn’t care you do her hair everyday now

- speaking of which likes you playing with her hair even if she doesn’t admit it or say much about it

- hugs are often from her but usually when nobody’s around, she’s been through a lot... especially for a 12 year old.. (probably you too), just hug it out y’all

- she has a problem saying that she loves you, not that she doesn’t but she feels almost scared to say it.. like maybe you don’t love her and just like her

- after all, you guys are young.. how would you even know what romantic love is?

- but deep down you both know that nobody else would ever in a million years make you guys feel how you two feel about eachother

- on multiple occasions thought of leaving this all behind with you and falco and just living in a forest or something together but she knows she wouldn’t be happy that way

- she was meant to fight, but she and you make a promise to try not to die in this shitty war

- she will brag about how amazing of a girlfriend she is, but also brag about how you’re a wonderful s/o and how everyone should be jealous of how happy she is

- you know how she screamed while those mfs were getting trampled? Yeah if anyone were to hurt you she screams that kinda crazy ...

- she’s just extremely protective and really doesn’t wanna lose you too:( she’s lost some close friends and she’s scared of losing you as well

- kinda just always sticks to you like glue

- Levi just refers to you as the brats s/o

- real talk though Sasha would’ve adored you guys and been your biggest shipper

- gabi gets embarrassed if anyone says how cute you guys are

( not interested in him romantically either but he is a fav)

- falco realizes quite quickly that he likes you, gabi loves to constantly remind him and tease him to hell about it which is so annoying to him ...

- while he worries about you .. way too often.. if you ever wanted to become a titan he is doing everything he can to make sure it doesn’t happen

- he is extremely blushy and flustered around you like at all times

- he can’t say for certain he’s in love, after all he’s a kid and he knows at that age he has no idea what that shit is but at the same time he’s never felt this way for anyone in his life and he doesn’t think he ever will

- protective of you, especially in battles. Would not hesitate to jump in front of you to save you and take any hits he can for you. He does this for gabi and still does. He’s a protective guy when it comes to you two

- he lacks the confidence to tell you how he feels, he is extremely shy with you

- eventually gabi eggs him on so much that he’s basically forced to ask you out

- he’s relieved you say yes

- he’s even more blushy around you though, and ends up panicking because he’s not sure how he should be around you..

- should he act different? Or the same? Yeah you get it

- he loves holding your hand though, while it does make him die on the inside it makes him happy and warm

- hug him and he will die

- kiss him and he will die like 10 times over

- seriously this boy can’t handle affection without having like a heart attack or something

- gabi just thinks it’s so hilarious

- sometimes gabi purposelessly gets you guys to kiss so he can just die

- he’s an awkward boy but he loves you ... yes he loves you

- he’s way too scared to say it though, what if it’s too soon, what if you laugh, etc.

- will genuinely get mad in a relationship now though if you still wanna be a titan.. before he kept it to himself but he believes he deserves a say now that you’re dating and really hates the idea of your life being shortened

- eventually he admits he loves you, he wants you to live a long life, he wanted you guys to get married someday

- he would have dreams, fantasies, about you guys getting married.. even before you were dating

- it’s how he realized his feelings

- he would have dreams about you all the time

- now he still does, but he can just visit you at night and be by your side

- if he can, he’d like to buy you things and overall spoil you

- or try to take you out on dates as often as he could

- everyone knew about his crush though if we’re being honest he is obvious as fuck

- he would be too shy to hug you, but secretly wants a big hug from you give him a hug you both have been through it

- secretly a clingy boy don’t comment on it he will die

- he just wants to keep you safe and protect you please let him protect you

- she’s a bit of a tsundere let’s be real! She can be a bit mean at times and brush you off

- or just relentlessly tease you

- however she cares about you, she wanted you to live a long life and not get yourself involved in this fucked up shit

- that’s why she for the longest time wanted you in the military police

- and why it’s so obvious to everyone else that she likes you

- she eventually admits her feelings thanks to marlo and she is forever grateful to him for it even after him being gone

- hand holding is often, and gives you a big kiss on the cheek usually

- she’s not shy about her relationship, she wants everyone to know. She doesn’t see it as weakness

- besides she lost an important friend, she wants you to know you’re important to her and that she isn’t ashamed of you or to be with you.

- enjoys teasing you in general, sometimes will tease and call you a perv even if you’re so obviously not being one she loves to embarrass you

- often feels worried whenever she can’t be with you

- she often freaks herself out and thinks something bad might’ve happened to you

- she always tries to be respectful of you and your boundaries, while this is a normal thing to do she really gets worried about overstepping ever and will apologize even when she doesn’t have to

- something about you just makes her more soft and more worried she’s doing something bad or wrong

- protective gal that will kick anybody’s ass for you to keep you safe

- in the world you live in though, kinda necessary isn’t it?

- she tries to take you on dates and even if it isn’t always a common occurrence she tries her best

- kinda wants to baby you sometimes but she also knows how annoyed she’d be if you did so

- she just cannot help but act like a mom sometimes to you, especially if you don’t know how to take care of yourself

- now that you’re dating flirting with you is quite common, she likes to flirt !

- especially if it makes you flustered, all of a sudden she’s a huge flirt now

- overall you make her nervous and flustered, so she wants you to feel the same

- totally used to gush about you to like Annie before you guys started dating, she couldn’t help it! Thankfully Annie found it amusing

- still even after all these years swoons over you like damn how are you so attractive

- still tries to convince you to stop fighting within the survey corps if she can but she knows she can’t at this point with how long it’s been going on you’ve clearly had your mind made up for awhile now

- she wants to start a family with you but doesn’t know how to tell you

- honestly just wants a normal life with you she loves you so much

- (btw, y’all end up having kids named Sasha and marlo <//3)

- she hates the idea of you dying it’s something she thinks about extremely often and she gets nightmares

- she tries to keep that from you, honestly she tries to make herself look strong in front of you like all the time

- she eventually opens up doe

- give her cuddles and hugs ;( plz

- oohhh boy here we go

- if falco was bad enough well here’s armin

- motherfucker dies if you even look his way

- he’s so blushy and so nervous, he cannot help it

- he would eventually get comfortable around you though, and would often talk to you about the sea and things he wanted to explore with you together

- or read books for you to fall asleep to

- it made him happy when you did though, it meant you were comfortable enough to fall asleep around him

- if you ever teased him he wouldn’t know what to say and would just stutter and not get his words out

- in general stutters around you from time to time he can’t help it you make him so nervous

- he told you how he felt of course because of mikasa and eren

- when you guys started dating though, he still didn’t know how to go about romance as it was entirely new to him.

- in a relationship? Not a protective guy let’s be real you’re the one protecting him half the time and he always feels embarrassed about it

- he gets worried easily though, if you’re fighting and tend to be reckless.. it’s easy to be overprotective of a rather weak boy so it’s likely he’s constantly worrying about you .. yeah

- more courage now that you’re dating so if you tease him he may stutter but at least he’ll try to defend himself a bit better

- loves giving you cheek kisses

- shy boy is not for pda but if you wanted it who is he to deny

- likes holding your hand, loves when you hold his hand... man he just loves you so much please

- he probably spent a lot of time talking about you to Annie

- he’s thought about starting a family with you but truly cannot bring himself to talk to you about it, in the world you’re in and the place he holds .. he will just have to wait

- while a smart person, you are somebody he will go to for advice from time to time

- mostly though, he wants to be somebody you can rely on

- spoils you, my god he is such a simp he can’t help but spoil you

- sometimes you’re a distraction he will just stare at you and when he gets caught he’s so embarrassed

- like armin is so obviously in love with you wtf

- he likes being hugged a lot

- often lays his head on your lap and falls asleep he finds it calming

- he’s very sweet, and calls you sweetheart or honey

- he likes to just remind you how much he loves and cares for you, he never wants you to forget.. even if it makes him blushy and embarrassed

- hitch totally teases him about how lame and mushy he can be when it comes to you

- you’re his biggest motivation to finish this war for good

- also he is quite insecure in a relationship but he’s generally insecure asf just reassure him <//3

- what a sweet gal! She loves spending time with you, talking to you about random shit like how your day was and whatnot

- sometimes complains to you about how tough the day was or how hard Levi made her work lol

- or about all the cleaning

- she tells eren about you quite often and even somebody as dumb as eren catches onto her feelings for you

- she’s aware of her feelings.. or eventually becomes aware of them

- she’s not sure initially what to do with them, she’s young but she’s not an idiot and she understands that loving somebody in this line of work isn’t ideal

- she hasn’t truly experienced what others have though, she doesn’t understand the full extent

- so she allows herself to selfishly tell you how she feels

- she’s glad you return them, and if you weren’t already in Levi squad you are now as you show to be an important asset

- often you two will clean together and spend as much time as you can, you keep your relationship mainly secretive

- it’s unprofessional and besides you two might be separated due to Levi’s order

- it’s just best to say you work better together, which you do btw

- while her father believes she’s too young to marry, he does like you nonetheless

- she’s always embarrassed when he brings up the marriage thing and how she’s still young

- the idea of getting married to you just makes her flustered and drives her crazy that’s all

- not for pda, again your relationship is a secret

- Levi catches on, he could care less

- holds your hand mainly, kisses your hand, caresses it ... she loves your hands please

- often jokes around with you, she always did but moreso now that you’re dating

- she likes to tease you a bit but it’s all in good fun, plus bonus points if you get flustered

- she wants to brush and do your hair in the morning (yes even if short)

- she lets you brush and do her hair too though

- in a modern au would totally be the type to make you music playlists and have you listen to them but okay

- she finds comfort in being around you, even in her worst times

- which would’ve saved her tbh

- she tries not to think too much about the future, or a future that could be without you.. she just wants to live in the present with you for now and pretend everything’s gonna be okay

- she’s (mainly cuz of her father) had thoughts about having a normal life with you and getting married and having kids

- she knows that can’t happen, not for a long time :(

- clings to your arm a lot

- she’s good at comforting you

- she’d do anything to keep you from being moody or sad

- she’s also very sappy sometimes

- blushy boy, anytime he’s around you his entire face is filled with an enormous blush that anybody can notice

- while people might not notice things about bertholdt they can at the very least notice his rather obvious crush on you

- if you haven’t made a move by now you either wanna see him do it himself or your oblivious as fuck

- lots of stutters

- probably sweats a little tbh

- stares at you constantly, it’s hard not to notice and Reiner comments on it quite a bit

- if you’re a soldier he definitely feels guilty, but considers taking you back home with Reiner (kinda like ymir with historia)

- he tells you how he feels finally because Reiner keeps egging him about it

- he’s a blushy mess as he confesses, but he’s happy that you say yes

- in a relationship he can be insecure at times, he doesn’t think highly of himself so it’s to be expected

- just reassure him:(

- of course you would know about his secret if you’re a soldier, and you’d have to be okay with it and not expose him. Of course he’ll say his side of the story and all that. It’s likely you take his now

- he’s still a blushy nervous ... and rather obvious boy

- sometimes he just wants to hold your hand but is too shy to but he’s so obvious about it since he keeps staring

- just take this mf hand already

- he’s too shy for a lot of things tbh

- also side note if you’re really short like historia that is so funny to him but he doesn’t say it out loud

- will absolutely swoon if you touch or play with his hair, first of all you’re probably too short to reach his hair so it’s not a common occurrence (or if not, always in public), but also because nobody’s done that before it makes him feel so loved

- after dating for awhile and being a bit more confident he is the type to say I love you often, he can’t help it because he genuinely does love you but sometimes is scared it’ll lose its meaning because he says it so often

- is extremely protective actually, light cause him to make some grave mistakes on the battlefield because of how protective he can be of you

- you in general got him swooning

- he likes to cook for you (back at home?)

- in general would love to just spoil you

- if you do the same he dies

- if you ever compliment him, big blush on his face

- honestly can’t help but talk about you to Reiner, Reiner likes hearing about it though and he’s not annoyed by it because Reiner is a sweet boy that likes hearing his friend be happy

- while he likes you laying on him, likes laying on you more, like your lap or something ..

- he’s a big cuddle baby he wants to be held despite being so tall he is just.. please

- he wants to protect you during the day but at night just wants to feel safe and protected in your arms

- if you were ever threatened, if you are attacked and etc he is gonna be yelling he ain’t going down without a fight

- you make his brain short circuit and you make him stupid

#yelena x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #attack on Titan x reader #bertholdt x reader #gabi x reader #falco x reader #hitch x reader #armin x reader #petra x reader

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heyitsmerose · 4 years ago

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Russian Roulette | Mafia!Seonghwa

Pairing: Mafia!Seonghwa x Assassin/Sniper!Reader

Genre: Angst, Mafia!

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: A part of the infamous Park gang, your life is never short of crazy. You've never met the man himself, but tonight something is different. He accompanies the rest of the gang to one of your usual Friday night outs. It all goes south however, as you discover the night doesn't turn out as it's supposed to, a dangerous obstacle in your way. You are forced to pick between the lives of your boss, your best friends and young boy in a menacing game of Russian Roulette.

Warnings/Disclaimer: I am aware the Mafia life is nothing like I am portraying it. It is definitely not full of attractive, young, single people and many nasty/dirty things happen behind the scenes. Furthermore this is quite a serious topic as some people lose their lives over this. I will not be portraying the reality of mafia gangs, instead just an idealised version (thus remember, none of this is real). That being said, a little imagination and creativity never hurt anyone did it? Also this is my second SeonghwaxMafia fic oops.

Blood + Wounds

Mafia + Gangs

Guns + Weapons

Underage Drinking + Assault

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Youtube Playlist

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|◁ II ▷| *I've spent a few weeks on this, I'm sorry if there are spelling errors, I've read the entire thing maybe 5-6 times.

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Friday. 6 pm. After-work hours. What were you doing? What every other normal friend group would do; go to the nearby bar to relax. Except you weren't normal. You and 14 or so others in the bar at the moment, had a dirty secret. You were a part of a gang, a mafia gang to be exact. In all honesty, unlike the movies or stories that had portrayed them, the public rarely knew about mafia gangs, let alone knew if they existed. You could roam around freely without the need to worry about someone recognizing you. No one would know that such a pretty face hid such a dark secret.

Besides, this was your lifestyle now. You knew the gang was political and focused on some power struggle but you couldn't care less. Frankly, the only reason you joined the gang was that you were broke. You were introduced to it after you stumbled into this exact bar at the age of 16, wanting to become a bartender as you knew it paid well. You tried applying for the job but it turned out you were underage and couldn't work at the bar yet. While you were slapped by reality, however, someone was watching your every move. She was young too, maybe 15 or 16 and she had noticed you the moment you entered the bar/club. Not too many new people came along so she was intrigued. Immediately when she sensed your aura and your personality, she knew you'd fit in well with the gang.

She noticed how confidently you carried yourself and noticed your dark fashion choice. She stared as you made your way to the counter, swaying your hips as you got the attention of the bartender. The way, you leaned against the counter cooly, your lips parted slightly as you waited for a response. As she kept looking at you you looked back, feeling someone glare holes into the back of your skull. You noticed a young girl, hair a burgundy color with full black clothes. She smiled at you softly and you only raised your eyebrows before rolling your eyes and averting eye contact. What a badass personality you had. Perfect.

Despite really wanting a friend in the gang, and wanting to recommend you to the boss, she couldn't. Alas, she was only a young hacker and her position was not too significant. What she didn't expect was for you to come up to the group yourself, and introduce yourself. You got your response from the manager, and it was not one you were too happy with, you scoffed and turned on your heel, looking for a way to better your situation and rotten mood. She picked up her drink and gulped it down after you looked away. She looked back at you and you were gone. Her eyes widened as she sighed. She knew you'd get along but she was never going to see you again. The last thing she expected was to hear a voice from near the central table.

"Listen up people. Is this some sort of badass, thug gig? Are yall hiring? Can I be a part of this?" You announced. She spat out her drink and choked, hearing your words. Not only were you an outsider intruding on their business, but you had also shamed the gang in front of the underboss, one of the people present there.

Being somewhat new herself, She got nervous thinking of the consequences you'd face for messing with the mafia world. She heard a deep chuckle from behind her, somewhere and chills ran down her spine.

"Actually, we do have an opening" One of the taller males whispered in a low voice. At this point, no one could tell if he was being serious or whether he just wanted to chop your head off. She gripped her drink harder and stared at both of you. She noticed it was none other than the boss's right-hand man and most trusted member, the underboss, San. Should anything happen to the boss, the gang would be given to San.

You twirled a piece of your hair in between your fingers as you smiled back. You weren't intimidated. Besides, he looked no more than around 5 years older than you. You stepped closer, staring into his sparkling, yet cold brown eyes. You noticed how his hand gravitated dangerously close to your personal space and you were slightly more alert. Through the corner of your eye, you noticed how his hand was moving closer to your waist but none of you broke eye contact. Before his hand made contact with your waist, you grabbed his wrist. The hand that was twirling the piece of hair swiftly snapped down, grabbing his wrist tightly. His eyes widened and he tried pulling away gently while you kept the firm grip, not breaking eye contact. The others around you gasped but you kept glaring at him while he had an amused smirk on his face.

"What kind of opening?" You gritted out. Sure, you were desperate, but you weren't going to let people throw you around and use you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to assert dominance but he just looked at you and tilted his head. A smile broke out on his face, a genuine one this time. You loosened your grip, letting go of him, still a little cautious as he simply massaged his wrist, still maintaining a smile on his face.

"I think you'll like it more than you think"

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Although you had originally joined because you needed money. You found that this lifestyle had fit you more than you thought. You enjoyed the thrill and you couldn't imagine yourself working anywhere else. It had been around 5 years since you joined and you were now 21. Meanwhile, the burgundy-haired girl, Ashe, became your best friend and you even lived together. The bond you shared was to die for, you loved each other to bits but also were each other's biggest supporters. You maintained your bitchy persona and starting rubbing off on Ashe too. Soon, she also developed a colder more confident aura. You were with her through thick and thin. Your position now was a spy and secondary shooter. Despite shooting not being your main pursuit, out of the gang, you were one of the most skilled in using them. Some even compared you to the boss, but you shrugged them off. San was for sure the best shooter out of the entire gang though.

Surprisingly, San, the underboss, who you found was 22 at the time was now 27. You had developed a close bond. Your relationship consisted of a lot of teasing and inside jokes as well as a lot of protectiveness from San. Although your relation started rough, it slowly transitioned from mean comments to teasing names and now playful banter. You had a sibling relationship and he was like the brother you never had. You both were the best with guns in your entire gang so you bonded quite a lot as you spent a lot of time training and practicing together. Not to mention when you'd both geek out over specific new models that were brought into the weaponry.

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Back to the present, you were at the usual bar. After joining the gang, you quickly realized that this was the go-to spot for after-work hours. It wasn't mandatory to come here, but it was kind of a tradition every Friday to come and just let loose for a bit. Most of the gang was here and it was usually the same people every time. Today though, something was different. The boss had come in. To outsiders it would seem casual, as if a normal friend group was getting wasted, to everyone in the gang though, you knew that was far from the truth.

The boss had never come with you guys, and although it was after working hours, you all couldn't help but be on your best behavior. He had often heard that his gang members would meet up after work on a friendly basis and he wanted to know what this was about. He heard San talking about it during work once and was intrigued ever since. Thus, here you were... here he was... along with the 14 or so others who usually came to the bar.

To be completely honest, coming to the bar was your favorite part of your job, scratch that, your entire week. You looked forward to it all week and when it finally came you let loose. It was a known fact that you and San were the crazy daredevils of the group. You both had absolutely no fear or shame in the things you did. Today though, you both had tried to be on your best behavior. Despite being his right-hand man, San was still a little intimidated by Seonghwa and you often used to playfully gossip about him, so you both made sure to behave today, or at least tried...

Seonghwa stuck out like a sore thumb. It was clear no one was expecting him to come, and to be honest, nobody wanted him to come either. He was leaning against a counter, eyes scanning the crowd carefully while sipping a rather small glass of whiskey. Typical Seonghwa, being cautious and defensive even off the job. You hadn't had too many personal encounters with Seonghwa, you had just seen him around a bunch.

Meanwhile, although you and San had agreed to tone it down a bit, you couldn't help it. Drunk was an understatement. You rushed over to the front as soon as the adrenaline hit you and had roughly shoved some people off the raised platform of the dance floor. You were shouting random lyrics into the crowd and hyping everyone up while pulling a few random strangers onto the stage. After swaying your hips a bunch and screaming song lyrics into strangers' faces, you realized this still wasn't enough. You staggered to the DJ and snatched one of the many mics and went back to the stage.

Acquired with a new toy to distract you, you began to get everyone's attention.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen" You slurred into the mic. By now, most of the gang members had gotten used to your crazy shenanigans and didn't mind. Although many were initially afraid of San, you had defiantly changed him for the better. He finally found someone to match his energy and charisma and he let loose a little, finally free to show his true self. Everyone had gotten used to it at this point, but this was different, the boss was here.

Most of them immediately sobered up hearing your booming voice from the gigantic sound boxes. Ashe was hooking up with some random girl somewhere else, but as soon as she recognized it was you, she immediately began to look for you.

"How's everyone doing tonight? Are we having funn?" By now, you had gotten the attention of everyone in the bar, including Seonghwa. He looked at you with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, he recognized you. You were the little minx that caught his eye the day you joined the gang, you barely spoke to him, but he could sense the confident aura radiating from you.

The mic was roughly snatched from you, by one of the guys, you assumed was the manager, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking towards the dance floor. He wasn't going to stop you, no one was. Since you had gotten everyone's attention, everyone's eyes were on you. You hopped over to the center of the dance floor, hair bouncing as you fully let go. You swayed your hips and ran your fingers through your hair.

You heard a few whistles and hollers around you and a bunch of hands touching your waist. At this point, you were too drunk to even react properly and just continued dancing, enjoying the attention. You hyped everyone up and began jumping to the beat, hair bouncing over your shoulders as you shook your head from side to side at the beat.

By now, you had caught Seonghwa's attention too, he was intrigued by your carefree persona outside work and admired your ability to separate your two lives. Meanwhile, Ashe had rushed to your side, trying to pull you away from everyone. Despite being drunk, her motherly instincts kicked in and she felt the need to protect you.

"Y/n, what are you doing? The boss is watching!" She practically yelled. You just gave her a disapproving look and pulled her into the middle of the circle.

"Asheeee, just let loose for one night, why are you always so uptight?" You slurred to her, caressing her waist. She gulped and looked back at your eyes. You raised your eyebrows and smirked, if only you knew the effect you had on her. As if on cue, the DJ played the worst song possible, a slow, sensual one.

You whispered the lyrics into her ear as you wrapped your arms around her neck. You caressed the back of her neck with your fingers and tugged on the smaller strands of hair in the back. You slowly started moving your waist to the rhythm as she tried steadying you, you were drunk, this was not okay. You pulled your hands away from her neck and caressed her cheeks in both of your hands, inching closer. You kept whispering the lyrics and she felt your warm breath on her lips. She was slowly gaining confidence and eventually grabbed your waist in her hands. You looked down at her hands and smirked. You brought one of the hands caressing her cheek to softly trace her bottom lip. You stared at her lips, inching closer and closer, warm breaths mixing.

All of a sudden you turned around, your back facing her, as she steadied you again. You began moving again, bending forwards purposely to rub against her. You swayed your waist and pushed backward. She knew what you were doing and slowly inched her hands downwards towards your ass. Although you were best friends, there was no doubt that there was some sexual tension between the two of you.

She began tracing patterns on your hips and butt as one hand remained on your waist. She felt around your waist, trailing patterns around your skimpy black dress until she felt a harder material near your chest and stomach. She blushed immediately not meaning to touch you there and placed her hand back on your waist. You chuckled as you ground against her harder, now definitely trying to start something. She lightly moaned as she gripped your hips, trying to pull you back up, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back for much longer like this.

"Goodness me, what have I walked upon here?"

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Way to ruin the moment Choi San...

Ashe froze upon hearing his voice. She immediately pulled her hands away from you and stepped back, a dark red blush now coating her features. Meanwhile, you were too drunk to think straight and simply frowned at the lack of contact, you were just about to get laid.

The second the others saw Ashe step away from you, random strangers started touching you again. One of them grabbed your waist, as another gripped your chin. You closed your eyes and continued moving to the beat and San sighed.

"I think that's enough, step aside before I make you" San huffed, a hint of frustration and anger at the end. Everyone obliged immediately upon sensing his dominating aura and you were once again alone. You sighed, eyebrows furrowing as you looked around, most of the people around you had moved away. You stumbled slightly and tried stabilizing yourself, only to fail miserably and almost fall over.

San rushed over and held you by your shoulders to steady you.

"Why hello there, handsome man" You sloppily winked at San and he rolled his eyes.

"Y/n what on earth are you doing? You made quite the scene just then..."

"I was having fun... you're such a killjoy, Saniee." You slurred, sticking your pointer finger into his chest. He simply pushed your finger away, trying to be strict with you.

"Yeah, your definition of fun being screaming lyrics into the mic nearly deafening everyone, throwing yourself at random people, grinding on Ashe and almost kissing her, and practically falling on the floor and eating shit" He was frustrated, but he couldn't help but feel protective over you. Despite scolding you, he still had an arm around your waist, looking deeply into your eyes, hand on your back, holding you up so you didn't fall. It was subtle things like this that showed that he deeply cared and under his strictness, he was just a big softie.

"I- I what?" You sighed trying to step away, now that he was recalling the events it started setting in.

"Yeah, how about we sober up, hmm?" He asked and you nodded as he dragged you back to the counter. You looked back one last time, only to see Ashe looking at you with heartbroken eyes. You looked away feeling guilty as tears glimmered in her eyes. To you it was just a bit of fun, to her it meant the world. Even just a few minutes where you seemed interested in her made her feel special. Deep down, you knew she might have liked you, so why did you lead her on and rub yourself against her?

You sighed shakily feeling immensely guilty. San looked down at you, as he noticed tears falling down your eyes.

"Aren't you a mess?" He chuckled and you breathed out shakily

"Shut up san" Your voice broke as you softly spoke. His eyes widened and he sat you down on a barstool.

"Why are you crying, what's wrong?" He asked as he rubbed under your eyes with his thumbs, gripping your jaw with one hand.

"I might have ruined my friendship with Ashe," You said softly and he sighed.

"Why would you think that?" He said, looking into your eyes as you tried averting eye contact.

"Deep down, I had a feeling she liked me, and I made things worse by leading her on. I rubbed myself on her like an idiot and I fucking led her on, gosh I'm such a bad friend!" Your voice cracked as San 'hmmed in understanding.

"Well, why did you do that?" He asked as he gripped your chin making you look back at him.

"I- I... I was drunk, I AM drunk." You clarified, stuttering a bit.

"No you're not," He said matter-of-factly. You raised your eyebrows in confusion as you urged him to continue.

"Y/n, I've known you for more than 5 years now, I've seen you drunk over a million times, I can tell when you're actually drunk... You may have fooled the others, but not me. Here's the real question, why the fuck are you pretending to be drunk?" He asked all of a sudden and you felt vulnerable.

It was crazy how he could read you like an open book. Your eyes widened as you tried looking away, there was no point in continuing the charade at this point. He looked back at you expectantly and sighed, as he saw you getting nervous.

"It's alright, I don't think anyone else noticed either, now please tell me what's wrong?" He said in a soft tone as you sighed.

"I can't tell you San," You said looking back into his eyes.

"Why? We aren't on duty, why are you being so secretive? Especially with me?" He specified the word 'me'. It was true, you usually never kept anything from each other so this was a bit weird.

"I just can't tell you I'm sorry" You sighed, tugging on the roots of your hair, as your hands gripped your scalp. He just sighed in understanding and got up. As he was about to leave, your hand snapped back and you gripped his forearm.

"I'm sorry San, but I can't help it. One more thing, don't you dare tell anyone." Your voice dropped an octave lower and he gulped, he had never seen you so serious before.

"Act as if you know nothing, I'm sorry it has to be this way, but just carry on with whatever you were doing and please stay out of my business just for today." His eyes bore into yours dangerously but you didn't back down. You had never commanded him before, so this must have been serious. He eventually realized it must have been something important and walked away, but not before scoffing at you.

You sighed and looked down, feet dangling over the barstool. That was close. With your cover now blown and known to San, you had to be a little more careful now. You were glad no one else had figured out though, not even your best friend Ashe. Your thoughts went back to Ashe and you felt incredibly guilty. How stupid you were, willing to throw away your friendship of 5 years, your only real friendship just to put on an act and sell your drunk state. Pathetic. You sighed as you looked back to where you were a couple of minutes ago. Although you felt immensely guilty, you couldn't help it, it was a part of your act.

Trying to go back to what you were doing, you eyed a few of the people at the bar. Although you had to act drunk, actually drinking was off-limits for today. You ordered a sparkling lemonade for yourself while looking around. Meanwhile, your eyes caught on Seonghwa. He was leaning against a counter, head leaning back. his eyes were closed and his soft bangs fell over his forehead. He brought his drink up to his lips and took a small sip. As he swallowed you saw how his adam's apple bopped up and you gulped feeling giddy inside. You tried shaking yourself out of it, but when he placed his drink aside and ran his hand through his soft, black hair, you almost lost it. You could barely see the sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he brushed his fingers through his hair.

Luckily for you, you were interrupted by the bartender bringing over your drink, and you looked away embarrassed. You shook your head to get rid of any weird thoughts or feelings as you were sure you were practically drooling. Without looking, you brought the glass to your lips to have a sip. Just as you were about to take a sip though, you caught a whiff of a rather familiar smell. You pulled the glass away from your lips and looked questioningly at the bartender.

He just looked the other way and raised his eyebrows, ushering you to follow his gaze. As you did, you found a well-built, tall, brown-haired man staring back at you. You looked back at your drink and swirled it around a bit. You noticed that it was an alcoholic drink and there were some undissolved white particles at the bottom of the cup. You looked back up at him and he simply winked at you, smirking. Pathetic. He just tried to fucking drug you and thought you'd fall for it.

You smirked realizing your act worked and he actually thought you were drunk. You tried to cover up your discomfort and simply flashed him a lop-sided smile. You turned around, tilting your head back and lifting your hand to your mouth, acting as if you had just downed the drink. You sneakily slid the drink over the counter into some far corner, so no one would notice. You messed up your hair slightly before turning back around to catch his attention to further solidify your act. As soon as you turned back around to look at the guy though, you noticed he was gone. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked around, trying to find him.

"Looking for me, honey?" You heard someone sensually whisper into your ear from the side. Chills ran down your spine, but you tried to cover up your discomfort and disgust. You turned to him, looking him in the eyes, making sure to look a little droopy before calling out to him.

"Hi~" You slurred, making sure to breathe out so your warm breath hit his face. His eyes immediately rolled in pleasure, jaw-dropping as he took in your sexy aura. You almost scrunched your face in disgust but clenched your jaw to stop your reflexes. He opened his eyes again and inched closer to your face as he spoke again.

"You're so gorgeous, damn, how have I never noticed you?" He said, his breath hitting your face. Your nose scrunched as you smelled the alcohol in his breath. Luckily he thought you were just reacting to his compliment. More importantly, however, you confirmed he was drunk... Perfect. He would most likely let down his guard so you had a solid chance at executing your plan. He also revealed that he was a regular at the bar, another important piece of information you needed to confirm your suspicions.

You giggled as your hand slowly trailed up his chest. You rested your hand firmly on his chest as you tried to push yourself further into him. He hummed and trailed a hand down to your waist. Although you didn't want his hands all over you, it was inevitably a part of the job, so you tried your best to just power through it and ignore it.

He leaned in closer until his bangs fell over your forehead. He secured his hands around your waist and held you tight. You flinched from the roughness and tried squirming around to loosen, his grip but he didn't budge. Soon a hand trailed to the side of your hip and you knew where this was going. You sighed and looked down at his hand. Normally, you would have instantly pushed him away, but this mission was far more important than how you were feeling at the moment.

He rested his hand near the dip of your waist, right above your hip, testing the waters. Remembering that you needed to act drowsy, you looked back up at him, your eyes fluttering as you smiled one last time, before falling limp in his arms. You heard him grunt as he easily threw you over his shoulder. Although this should have seemed like a major red flag to anyone around you, people weren't paying attention and they probably didn't care either. You internally whined at the situation you were in and slyly looked around, he was walking towards the back of the club, near the backrooms. You wiggled around a bit in his arms and he resorted to pressing a hand against your ass. You moved around slightly, still acting as if you were drugged, trying to get his hand off you, you couldn't directly push it off as he'd know something was up.

"Where are we goingg" You slurred, trying to indicate you were still conscious.

"Don't worry about that, honey" He whispered, smacking your ass. What a pathetic sick fuck he was. You groaned at the impact, bracing yourself for what was to come next.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was simply looking around, observing his surroundings and being cautious as usual, when he noticed a man carrying one of the ladies into the backrooms. He knew she was unconscious, most likely drugged and being taken into the room against her will. It seemed as though the people around them didn't even care. He looked a little more closely and noticed what she was wearing. A bodycon black dress up till her thighs, with studded embellishments on the waistline and straps. It was you. He has seen you around the headquarters, tagging behind San all the time.

"Y/n?" He whispered, beginning to get a little angry, it was one thing to mistreat a woman and force yourself on her, but it was another to mess with a member of his gang. He saw how you were thrown over his shoulder, head hanging upside down, hair cascading down halfway to the floor. He huffed in anger, looking around for backup, ready to stop him, but when he saw the man smack your ass and feel up your dress, he lost it. He smashed his glass of whiskey onto the nearest counter, glass shattering as he did so.

He immediately pushed past the people around him, trying to get to you. His head tilted slightly down, eyes locked on his target, a few meters ahead. He looked psychopathic in all honesty. His bangs covered his forehead and eyes slightly. With his head tilted down, he was able to cover up his deadly eyes and killer expression. He couldn't care less about the people around him at that moment, his only concern was teaching that guy a lesson for messing with his gang.

He pushed past some people, shoving a couple of guys on the way until he was about halfway there. He was ready to just fully commit and barge across another load of people before he was interrupted.

"Uhh Hwa? What are you doing? Why do you look like you're about to kill someone?" He heard someone next to him say. He whipped his head to the side, ready to punch whoever it was that came in his way, before realizing it was San

"Because that's exactly what I was about to do, before you came in my way, now move." San shivered at his tone. Never had Seonghwa ever commanded San in such a way. Sure Seonghwa had been angry a lot in the past, but his frustration this time seemed more emotionally fuelled.

"No, no, no, that isn't a good idea, how about we think about this for a secon-"

"I SAID MOVE! Can't you hear me?" Seonghwa growled as San violently flinched at his loud tone.

"Why what's so urgent, is everything alright?" San inquired, straightening his clothes a bit, and regaining his composure.

"I'm not obligated to tell you that" Seonghwa finally said, before shoving San out of the way and walking towards the direction the man was walking before. What he didn't realize though, was that in the time it took him to talk to San, the man had seemingly disappeared.

"What's wrong?" A voice from beside broke him out of his thoughts.

"Look what you've done, I lost the man now" Seonghwa replied, massaging his temple, trying to calm his frustration.

"What man?"

"Someone threw the girl- Y/n over his shoulder and took her to one of the back rooms" He claimed, gripping the bridge of his nose in annoyance. San's eyes widened and he gasped. He knew you were up to something tonight but was this a part of your plan?

"What?" Was the only thing he could muster. He wanted to ask why, where, and how you even got in that situation, but he was too stunned.

"Not only that, he had the guts to slip his hand under her dress and feel her up, not to mention inappropriately grab her and spank her" He sighed, beginning to look around again. San gasped and immediately began frantically looking.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier" He panicked, looking around, running towards the backrooms trying to find you. He didn't doubt that you could defend yourself, but what if someone did drug you. He knew you knew better than to accept drinks from strangers and were always cautious, but he couldn't help but worry. His breath quickened and he began pacing around frantically.

"Calm down, we'll find her" He felt a pat on his shoulder, reassuring him. He let out a sigh, before nodding and continuing to look around.

"Why does this girl mean so much to you anyway?" Seonghwa dared to question, voice slightly laced with a negative tone. Was he shaming him, threatening him, genuinely curious, or maybe even slightly jealous of the way you were able to bond so easily?

"You don't even know the half of it."

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Meanwhile, the man had dragged you into one of the rooms in the back, locking it before, dropping you on the bed. Your legs dangled off the bed as he slowly approached you. He unfastened his belt and slowly pulled it through the belt loops. Through the corner of your vision, you were able to see exactly what he was doing and you knew where this was going.

He dropped the belt and slowly climbed on the bed, hovering over your legs. Meanwhile, your fists clenched unconsciously, head slowly turning away from him as he approached you. You really didn't want to do this, but you had no other choice. You had to keep him occupied for another hour or so and you had no clue how else to. You couldn't poison him or knock him out as you had no clue what tracking devices he could have had on him. Your jaw tightened and your hands unconsciously gripped at his shirt, subtly trying to push him away. Feeling some rustling from underneath, he looked down at your hands and noticed you pushing him away.

"Aw, honey there's no need to be scared" He whispered and you internally sighed.

"I never got your name, by the way, I bet a pretty face like this has a pretty name too..." He whispered into your ear from above.

"Y/n" You weakly grumbled.

"Yours?" You dared to question him back.

"Jungwoon, but I doubt you'll remember it tomorrow," He said, caressing your face. You sighed and realized he was right, you had to act as nothing had happened.

You shouldn't be able to even remember that his name was Jungwoo- Wait. His name is Jungwoon. Jungwoon? That wasn't the name you were told earlier when you were informed of the mission. Unless you got the wrong person... Your eyebrows furrowed unintentionally as you tried processing the information.

"Why? surprised honey? I'm second in line to the Kwon empire, brother of the infamous mafia boss, CJ Kwon" He said snickering a little. What an idiot, he just admitted his identity and now you confirmed your suspicions. You got the wrong fucking person.

You scoffed realizing your mistake, and he simply looked at you, confused. You shoved your knee in his groin, as you lifted yourself upright. He flew backward slightly at the impact, feet back on the ground as he tried regaining his composure.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? How aren't you out?" He questioned, still bent over, clutching his sensitive area. You just ignored him, standing up and tilting your head to the side, trying to figure out what you were going to do. The whole reason you couldn't knock him out was because of any tracking devices he might have had. Now knowing he was the son of a big Mafia empire, you had to be careful.

"Okay I mean no harm, I don't want to hurt. You're a trash person, but I still don't want to get into any trouble, so if you could excuse me" You raised your hands, trying to get out of the room as soon as possible. He made it quite difficult for you though, as he pulled out a gun from one of his back pockets, aiming it at you.

"Absolutely not! You're a crazy lady and you attacked me, I can't let you go" He aimed the gun right at your chest as you raised your hands above your head. You slowly started walking towards him, but he cut you off.

"Don't come any closer!" He gripped the gun harder, finger on the trigger. You examined his posture and the way he was holding a gun, for some indicator or weak spot. You looked at his fingers and then the gun. Aha!

"You leave me with no choice, I wasn't going to hurt you, but seeing as you're literally pointing a gun at me, I can't help it." You sighed, hands dropping to your waist, as you looked him dead in the eye.

"I'm gonna shoot you first, you crazy bitch." He huffed, readjusting his stance, now aiming the gun at your head.

"You see, the gun you're holding is a Kahr MK9-1, so the ejection port is visible. It isn't pushed back completely, meaning the gun is unloaded. Furthermore, the magazine release is triggered, meaning there aren't any bullets loaded either." You sighed, pressing your temples. His eyes widened as he pulled the trigger, only for a soft click to be heard. He removed the magazine, inspecting it, indeed, he forgot to load his gun.

"You're an idiot, you brought an unloaded gun, what good is that?" You scoffed, now walking towards him. You cracked your knuckles before raising an eyebrow at him. He backed up, a little scared of you now, you seemed to be well versed with guns and Mafias, you must have been a part of a gang. You were smaller than him, but we were aware that you could very well be capable of more.

"No, no, no, I'll let you go" He nervously said before gulping.

"Now what fun is that?" You said, tilting your head and snickering at him. He backed up into a corner of the room as you walked closer towards him.

"How does it feel huh?" You whispered as he looked down at you afraid for what was coming next.

"How does it feel to be backed into a corner? I bet it sucks, right? Well, that's what you've been doing to a bunch of innocent girls at the bar, so take this as a lesson before trying to pull something on anyone else next time." You sneered as he looked down at you blankly. His attitude and facial expressions were getting on your nerves so you decided to teach him a lesson.

You shoved your right arm into his jaw, with a clean uppercut. Shoving him backward as he stumbled, falling back into the wall behind him.

"Do you understand, you sick fuck?" You yelled as you grabbed the collar of his shirt. He nodded his head rapidly as he held his jaw in his hands. You just scoffed and left the room, head mildly aching from the idiot you just had to deal with.

As soon as you left the room, however, you remembered your mission. You panicked realizing you might have fucked up everything. You got the wrong person, meaning the real target was somewhere out there. You started brisk walking until you reached the main area, away from the backrooms. You fixed your hair quickly, trying to look for your target. Knowing what Jungwoon looked like, finding his brother, now shouldn't be too hard. You jogged through the crowd, looking around, scanning the place the best you could.

You looked back at the usual seating spot for your gang and realized it was practically empty. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran over to the seats there, looking for any familiar faces. You reached the area, noticing there were a few cigarette packets, vapes, and half-empty drink glasses, however no people in sight. You inspected the area, trying to look for any clues as to why and where they would have gone.

Sweat started collecting at the back of your neck, realizing this may have been your fault. It was your responsibility to occupy CJ tonight and you failed. What if he got to your gang? What if he had gotten to Seonghwa. You shakily sighed, a hand going up to your face to press your temples. You gulped dryly before thinking of a possible explanation. Your thoughts were cut short though, by a loud booming voice from behind you.

"Hands where I can see them bitch!"

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Meanwhile, Seonghwa and San were going crazy, trying to look for you. San was admittedly panicking more, while Seonghwa was mildly frustrated.

"Where is sheee?" San whined. By now he was starting to get genuinely worried. Of course, he believed you could take care of yourself, but the whole night you seemed extremely shady. You were hiding things from him and were pretending to be drunk. What if you got caught up in some dangerous schemes?

"Calm down, we'll find her, we just have to-" bang! Seonghwa started, only for him to be cut off by a loud bang. Both of them knew better, it was a gunshot. They exchanged knowing glances, before scurrying to their side of the bar. Although your safety was quite important too, it was Seonghwa's duty to make sure the rest of his gang was alright too.

With people screaming and running around, getting to where they wanted was a little harder. San roughly pushed through the crowd, while Seonghwa stayed a little more cautious, one hand clutching the gun in his back pocket.

"Move!" San roared at the passersby. His voice startled the people around, and they made way for them. San ran over to their usual corner, pulling a gun out of his pocket, firmly grasping it with both hands, holding it in front of him, remaining cautious. Meanwhile, Seonghwa, followed behind closely, running a hand through his hair, chains of his belt jingling as he paced around the area. San squinted, his gun still in front of him as he looked for the gang members. As soon as they reached their side of the club they realized what all the commotion was.

"Drop your weapon, let him go!" San yelled as he witnessed one of the members from an opposing gang hold a knife to one of the young spy's neck. He simply snickered, tightening his grip, the knife now cutting through the skin of his neck slightly as blood dripped down his neck. The young boy squirmed, only for the knife to dig deeper into his neck. He grunted, tears pooling in his eyes.

"What a fucking coward, going for the younger ones, eh?" Seonghwa growled, a dangerous yet playful tone to his voice. The growl was heard in his voice as it dropped in pitch and volume, deliberately trying to scare the man.

The man with the knife didn't budge, however, simply chuckling before, running the knife along the neck of the boy, cutting horizontally across his smooth skin. The boy cried, as his hands came up to grip the knife, only for him to feel lightheaded and nearly pass out. The rest of your gang members gasped, some even whimpering at the young boy's situation. The man with the knife looked back at your gang members as they looked helpless. They couldn't do anything, they knew if they did, he would cut the boy's neck cleanly in half. He looked back and deeply chuckled before refocussing his attention on the two men in front of him.

As he looked ahead though, he realized they were nowhere in sight. He looked around only to be greeted by a cold hard piece of metal pressing against the side of his head.

"I said let go" Seonghwa grumbled lowly, his voice deathly commanding and serious. The man gulped, looking at the gun pointed at his head, through the corner of his eyes. Before Seonghwa could fire his shot, however, a strong pungent smell spread across the room, he furrowed his eyebrows as he heard coughs and whimpers.

"Not so fast, Park" He heard someone snicker. He noticed how San, who was standing right in front of him, began to stumble, gripping onto a chair next to him. It must have been poison or some sort of toxic gas. Seonghwa felt the room spinning, his vision getting blurry as he looked around at his gang members coughing and clutching their stomachs.

"Cover your mouths and noses" He tried to warn them, only for it to come out as a bare whisper. He looked around, most of the members now passing out. He saw San, clutching his stomach, before looking up at him. His eyes fluttered as they got droopier. San simply grunted in pain before mumbling a soft 'sorry' and passing out, his head falling straight to the floor. Seonghwa felt helpless, he tried resisting it, but everything in his body burned. His throat burned and his ears rang.

He clutched his ears, a loud ringing noise making its way to his ears, overwhelming his senses. He let out a gasp, feeling breathless as his trachea burned. His eyes soon fluttered shut as he tried gripping onto the last strings of hope, before succumbing to the poison and passing out...

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"Hands where I can see them bitch!" A loud noise made its way to your ears. You slowly raised your hands as you slowly turned around. Behind you was probably your worst nightmare. Most of your gang members had passed out cold, behind the man. Some of them even tied up to chairs. San, Seonghwa, Ashe, and a young boy were tied to chairs, while the rest were still on the ground. You looked up at the man in shock, your eyebrows furrowing as your tried to process the situation. His face resembled Jungwoon's so there was only one logical explanation, this was his brother, CJ, the man you were after all along.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you?" You dared to question, walking closer to the man. He simply chuckled at you, firing the gun in your direction. It didn't seem as if he tried to kill you, although he aimed for the top of your shoulder, the bullet grazing your acromion. You screamed in pain, crouching down, your hand instantly flying to your shoulder. Albeit a mere flesh wound, it managed to dig quite deep, leaving a deep open would. Blood gushed through the wound as you pressed harder, trying to stop the blood flow.

"Well, it could be if you wanted it to be" He claimed, laughing at your situation. You looked up at him from the floor, shooting daggers with your eyes. He chuckled as one of his members passed him a water bottle. He snickered, before opening it, taking a sip, and clearing his throat. You furrowed your eyebrows, how was he so relaxed, the fate of an entire mafia gang was in his hands.

He chucked half the bottle into Seonghwa's face, and then another quarter into San's. He threw the bottle into some distant corner and yanked at Ashe's hair. Meanwhile, Seonghwa gasped, regaining consciousness, which must have only been a temporary toxin. His hair was wet, water dripping down his bangs, as they fell over his face. He glared daggers at the guy, before trying to get up, only for him to realize he was tied up. He struggled in the ropes, the rough edges, digging into his silky smooth skin.

San had also regained consciousness, gasping as coughed and choked. He blinked realizing the situation he was in. He looked around, noticing Seonghwa, and Ashe, and the other younger boy, as well as the rest of his gang members, and then finally you. His eyes widened as he struggled to try to free himself.

"Y/n?! You're okay?!" He questioned, sighing in relief as he finally found you. His relief was only short-lived, however, as he noticed you clutching your shoulder. He noticed the dark red stains on your hand and neck, a pool of blood on the floor, dripping from your shoulder down to your elbow and onto the floor.

"What did he- What did you- YOU BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HER, LET HER GO!?" He yelled, tugging on his ropes. He didn't care about himself at the moment, only what happened to you. You noticed how he started pulling harder, the ropes now digging into his skin as he tried pulling out. His wrists were bruised as the soft skin of his arms cut due to the rough edges of the rope. Blood trickled down his arms as his arms got raw from the pulling and tugging of the rope.

"San-ah, don't resist, I'm fine" Your voice wavered, as you tried regaining composure. Seonghwa's eyes softened as he noticed the sheen of your eyes, tears collecting. He sighed, looking down, unable to look at your current state, you must have been in so much pain, both physically and emotionally.

"I-" You started, only for your voice to break, a strangled sob escaping. Seonghwa's head whipped up as he noticed how you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now falling down your cheeks. You bit down your lip, as your shoulders shook. Your head faced the ground but it was clear you were crying. Whimpers and sniffs echoed as members of the opposing gang simply laughed.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up, but he had to stay calm. Seeing you break down like this in front of everyone, evoked a feeling of fury and seething rage. He simply looked away, unable to take in the sight of you being so vulnerable. You had always been one of the toughest ones in the gang.

"Now, now, no need to cry honey" You heard CJ whisper. He roughly yanked Ashe's hair once more and you winced at the way her neck snapped to the side. She got up with a sharp inhale, and a loud groan as she tried to understand the situation. CJ walked closer to you, his hand gripping your chin, tilting it up towards him. Seonghwa grunted as he tried tugging harder at the ropes.

"Don't touch her, you son of a bitch" Seonghwa finally growled. His eyes glaring daggers at CJ. This was the first time you heard him speak tonight and it was a tone you weren't too pleased to hear. His voice had a slight rasp to it, voice lower than the deepest trench of the ocean. Water dripped down his face and neck, making the side of his face shine in the light. His dampened clothes clung to his body as his eyes glared through his bangs.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't have too much fun. Now, if you could please get up for me, my darling I have an important mission for you" He maniacally giggled. You mustered all the energy you had and pushed yourself onto your feet, one hand still clutching your shoulder. He handed you his gun and your eyebrows furrowed. He stepped back and you instantly took the chance to point the gun at him. Your breath quickened as you tried to calculate his next move, what on earth was he up to.

"ah-ah darling, it's not me you'' be shooting. It's one of them" He pointed behind him to your four other gang members tied up in chairs. Ashe gasped as she let out a strangled sob, San gasping as well, as Seonghwa simply sighed, taking in your expression. You looked blankly back at him as you readjusted the grip on your gun with your wounded arm.

You shifted your gaze behind him, only to notice, four other men, standing behind the chairs, a gun pointing to each of their heads. "Shoot anyone else, and a bullet goes through all their skulls... that wouldn't be a pretty sight, would it?" He claimed, laughing at his own crazy scheme. By now Ashe was crying hysterically and you couldn't help but feel emotional too. You tried looking away, knowing the second you would look into any of their eyes, you'd break down. You roughly wiped at your nose, nodding, agreeing to his terms.

"I love a game of Russian roulette." You sniffed, chuckling sarcastically.

"May I spin the barrel?" You asked innocently and CJ simply chuckled loudly.

"I knew you had it in you!" He laughed, roughly patting your back. You rolled your eyes before inspecting the gun a bit. You opened the barrel, realizing there was only one bullet, he must have known when the first bullet would go off. You internally smiled realizing you had cracked the code.

You locked the barrel in place, before spinning it, the bullet clanking across the cylinder. Your arms shivered slightly as you raised the gun. Bingo! You were never one to be afraid when it came to guns. The shivering was an act. An act to shake the gun a little to hear where the bullet was clanking. You heard the clanking on the bottom of the barrel, realizing the bullet was going to fire on the 5-6 shot. Realizing it had already gone off once when CJ shot you, it was only logical that the bullet was in the 5th chamber.

You smiled before aiming the gun at San first. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were proceeding with this absurd plan. The moment he saw you smile, however, he knew you had everything under control. Besides, he trusted you. You winked at him, before placing your finger over the trigger.

"Just to clarify, If I shoot all of them once, you leave us alone? Whether one of them gets shot or not?" You spoke up, glancing from the corner of your eye.

"That is correct. Now, take your shot lady." You smiled back at him, before pulling the trigger while the gun was aimed at San. He flinched slightly at the noise but quickly covered up as a laugh erupted from him.

"This one got lucky... try the next one" CJ urged you. You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the unconscious boy. He looked young, maybe 16 or 17, and his neck was slashed, blood oozing from it at a slow rate. You quickly looked away and pulled the trigger. Despite knowing it wouldn't go off, you still had to act as if you were scared. Ashe yelped from next to the boy at the loud noise and Seonghwa sighed in relief.

"Well, well, well, I guess they both got lucky... How about your best friend now, you both seemed to be getting it on the dance floor no? It would be a shame for this epic love story to end so tragically." Ashe blushed a deep red as San chuckled from the side laughing quietly. You huffed in annoyance before pointing the gun at her. Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to speak.

"Y/n, if this gun goes off right now, just know that I forgive you, it's not your fault, no matter what-"

"Shut up Ashe" You yelled. The last thing you needed was a sad emotional goodbye, as you knew the second you saw her cry, you would too.

"No! Listen to me, never for a second think that you're responsible for any of this. I love you a lot, and I'm still mad at what you did back then, but it-" bang! Ashe squealed as the next gunshot went off. CJ's jaw dropped, another one was left unscathed. You winced slightly as she flinched. You didn't mean to be rude, but she was getting a little too sappy and you already felt terrible.

"You've been lucky so far, but it's a 1 in 2 chance now. Chances are, the legendary Mafia boss, Seonghwa Park will die, right here, tonight. Not just that, but to the hands of one of his most loyal members." He chuckled maniacally and you pointed the gun at Seonghwa. He gulped as he noticed your finger on the trigger, awfully close to pulling it. You looked straight into his eyes and could sense the fear in them. He gulped, eyes shifting around the room as his foot bounced impatiently.

You sighed, mouthing a "trust me" subtly, and smiling at him. His eyes widened as he realized you had planned this all along. You knew exactly when the bullet was going to go off. He should have known, besides you were the second-best with guns in the entire gang, of course, you would know. His eyes softened, as the corners of his lips tugged upwards.

You returned the smile and readjusted your stance. Meanwhile, CJ on the side had no clue what was coming. He believed with this next shot, the mafia boss of the Park gang would be dead, already coming up with plans to take over the empire.

You pulled the trigger and Seonghwa didn't even flinch. He simply chuckled deeply, before tilting his head back... that's how much he trusted you at that moment. CJ's jaw dropped. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

"ONE MORE!" CJ yelled at you as you flinched at the sudden loud voice. Seonghwa's eyes furrowed as he heard him. Your eyes widened as you processed the situation.

"I said one more! Take one more shot, or I'll drive a bullet through Park's head. I don't care who you shoot, but one of you is not going to leave alive today, and I will make sure of it." CJ grumbled, another one of his members passing him a gun. He pointed the gun at Seonghwa's head shoving it into his forehead. Seonghwa inhaled sharply before looking back at you, worried. It was obvious to everyone now that whoever you shot was going to die now. The last chamber had the bullet, so it would fire.

"Why do you care so much about someone dying today!" San yelled from the side.

"You took away one of my young hackers. You shot him right in the back. He's paralyzed now! FUCKING BASTARD SAN! I don't take such matters lightly, and for ruining his life, one of you is now going to pay with yours! I don't care who it is, one of you is going to die!" CJ yelled, gripping San's collar. He gulped realizing CJ found out about one of his missing hackers. Truth was, San helped him fake his paralysis to get him out of that vicious gang. He was now working for you, but CJ could never know that, or he'd go after the young boy.

"So it doesn't matter who I shoot?" You clarified, your voice shaking slightly to sell the act. CJ grinned from ear to ear, looking back and nodding smugly. Seonghwa looked at you with concern as he knew you were up to something. His eyes furrowed as you lifted the gun.

"What about this?" You asked, now pointing the gun directly at your chest. San gasped from the side, Ashe yelling at you to stop, while Seonghwa's eyes widened.

"I supposed that is acceptable too. Now get on with it!" He yelled as both the gangs waited for your next move. You took in a deep breath of air before pulling the trigger of the gun. You gasped at the impact, and fell to the ground, clutching your chest.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur. Not from the actual shot itself, but the commotion around you. You heard the footsteps of the opposing gang members as they scurried out the club. You heard a bunch of cries and whimpers from presumably San and Ashe.

Your back made contact with the floor with a loud thud, as you winced from the pain. Seonghwa immediately felt a surge of urgency, as he tried breaking free from the ropes. He yanked as hard as he could, cutting through his wrists slightly, as the ropes snapped. His wrists were bloody and his arms were bruised all the way p, but he couldn't care less.

He roughly yanked at San's ropes, loosening them a bit, just enough for San to free himself. His breath quickened and his eyes widened as he approached you. He rushed over, immediately crouching down to your level. He sat down on his knees, desperately trying to hold you up. He shifted next to you and brought your head to rest on his lap. Your eyes fluttered shut, as his big arms cradled your face, holding your cheeks in each hand. His cut wrists, left a trail of blood, on the exterior of your face, your hair clinging to your face from the damp blood and sweat.

"No, no, no, you're strong Y/n, you're going to survive this" He whispered to you, his breath caressing your face as his shallow breaths continued. He must have really freaked out. He began lightly, tapping your face, shaking your head in his hands slightly. He, brushed your hair away from your face as his fingers rested on your temple. You heard him let out a whimper, as you felt a warm droplet fall onto your cheek. Wait... was he crying? It couldn't have been... The legendary Park Seonghwa crying over one of his members dying. What a sight. He shifted slightly, moving one of the hands that were cradling you to press at your chest. His large palm, pressed softly at your chest, rubbing against the bottom of your left breast. That's where you drew the line.

"Uh-uh, hands off me" You claimed, pushing past Seonghwa, trying to get up. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes widened. You promptly stood up, as he remained seated on the floor, not understanding the situation. You walked over to the younger boy, untying him too, before grabbing a tissue, pushing at the large wound in his neck. You looked around, trying to find someone to help you, and looked at San. His eyes were wide as he was frozen in place.

"Stop staring and come help me, you ass!" You yelled, ushering to come over. He quickly rushed over, before cupping your cheeks.

"I thought you were going to die..." His voice broke, as you scoffed.

"Come on now, I wouldn't leave you that easilyyy" You whined before guiding his hand to the boy's neck.

"Hold it in place, we need to get him medical attention quickly, or he might bleed out." You passed him the tissues, before walking to untie Ashe. As soon as her wrists and arms were untied she pounced on you. She engulfed you in a hug, sobbing into your shoulder.

"You dumb bitch" She cried into your shoulder, as you patted her head, cradling her face. She pulled away and you looked down feeling guilty.

"I know, I'm sorry" You whispered out, only for her to scoff, before pulling you into another bone-crushing hug. You winced in pain, as your shoulder was hurting quite a bit. You simply resorted to rubbing her back for now. Your little moment was broken by a small cough heard from the ground. You looked down, only to notice, Seonghwa was still sitting on the floor, eyes wide, as he tried processing what was happening.

"Mr. Park... You're uh, still on the floor..." He looked right into your eyes, his eyes narrowing as he pushed himself up to his feet, walking towards you. He looked down at you as you tilted your head up, making direct eye contact.

"Firstly, I am touched and flattered that you cried for me, who would have thought..." You said, more to yourself, as Seonghwa brought his hands to his face, touching under his eyes. He realized his cheeks were wet with tears, as he roughly rubbed at them, sniffing and scrunching his nose.

"Secondly, that was inappropriate, dude! You can't just go around groping women you know?" You yelled as his eyes widened. You pointed back at your chest, indicating where he had tried pressing before. You knew he was trying to prevent, possible bleeding, but you couldn't help but tease him a little. He refocussed his attention to your chest, staring at the hole in your dress.

"Eyes up here buddy" You caught his attention. He scoffed, before bringing you into a hug. Engulfing your smaller body in his larger build.

"Ow! my shoulder, be careful, Park!" You scowled as he pulled back.

"Y/n what the fuck? You're supposed to be dead" He finally said, before bringing his hands, to your shoulder, to inspect the wound.

"Actually no" You pulled back, pulling the neckline of your dress down. His eyes widened as a blush grew on Seonghwa's cheeks. You flipped the top of your black lace bra outwards showing a navy blue thicker lining underneath.

"Bulletproof lining, I managed to push it up from my stomach to my chest when I uh, broke down" Seonghwa sighed, pressing his temples.

"You weren't crying?" He asked, a hand cupping your cheek as he spoke.

"Well no, it was a distraction, to bend over and push up the lining to my chest. The tears from before as well, they were fake too, sorry San, I had to sell my act..." You mumbled but San still heard. He scoffed as he walked towards you.

"I figured as much" He smiled back at you.

Seonghwa tightened his grip on your jaw as he realized something. You gasped as you tried pulling away.

"You knew what was going to happen? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He said a little louder. You didn't budge, knowing what you did was right.

"Because! If I were to tell you, you would have brought around 20 other bodyguards accompanying us. Besides this wasn't even the original plan... I was supposed to sleep with CJ, distract him for the night so he couldn't carry out his plan. Turns out I got caught up with his brother and had to... deal with him first." Seonghwa loosened his grip on your jaw before sighing, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

"Regardless, I'm proud of you, you know? You outsmarted them all and saved our lives. I owe you thanks." He said before stepping back. You felt dampness on the side of your head. Realizing it was blood, you grabbed his forearm, before inspecting his cuts and bruised wrists.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" You scoffed, before, walking over to get him a tissue to wipe the dried blood for now.

"For you, Y/n... I thought you were dying..." He sighed as gripped onto the base of your dress.

"So what? It's a part of the job. I knew what I was signing up for. I very well knew that death was a possible risk. Besides, why care about me so much? I'm rather expendable actually." You said matter-of-factly.

"No, you're not. Never feel like that. You mean a lot to the gang, a lot to me. Even though we don't interact often. I know how much you do for the gang, how much work you put in for everyone." He said, looking at you sincerely. You smiled back at him softly, booping his nose, turning on your heel.

"Let's get cleaned up shall we?"

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femmeharringrove · 4 years ago

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see, it's not like steve's ever been good at coping.

it's bad after starcourt, but instead of dealing with it then steve just puts everything into healing others. he comforts eleven, stays on the phone all night with lucas or dustin, helps will learn not to fear the cold, gives billy a shoulder to cry on and a place to live.

and so billy gets a front-row seat to steve's self-destruction.

he doesn't think it's his place to speak, initially, but he does worry when steve leaves early in the afternoon and comes back wasted, bruises on his throat and traces of powder on his clothes. some weekends he doesn't come home, he goes to indianapolis and shows up late sunday evening with a massive hangover and billy just gets him to eat and drink a little before getting him in bed. steve's not eating enough, he's losing weight and billy worries because this is his best friend, not even heather matches their level. and steve's done so much good for him but he doesn't know how to return the favor - not until steve barrels out of the bathroom one night shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down his face. billy takes one look inside, catches sight of two life-changing sticks, and rushes out after him.

and it's then, when he finds steve out by the quarry in a panic, that he knows how to help.

"i didn't mean to get pregnant," steve sniffles, and the moment billy crouches next to him the brunette is shuffling closer, scared and in need of comfort. and billy's still working on the physical thing, learning it's okay to be affectionate, but he doesn't hesitate to hold steve as close as he can.

"i know," he murmurs. "it's okay. we'll figure it out. you aren't doing this alone, you hear me?" and initially billy thinks he's fucked up because steve starts crying again, but when this round of sobs passes the other boy gives him a shaky smile.

"you promise?"

"cross my heart and all that shit." and that's just it. whatever steve needs, billy's got him.

steve initially doesn't want to go through with it, but decides ultimately it could be a good thing. he's thought about parenthood before, always wondered if he could be a better father than his own. this is a chance to prove it. and billy gives him all the support in the world. nobody messes with the only child of the harrington family, they can't afford the fallout, but he's always gotten dirty looks after coming out and they get worse now that he's pregnant. but billy follows him everywhere now amd anyone who gives him a look has to face the blonde's anger. and sure, he's not where he once was. he's still putting on muscle and learning to use his hands again, but half of what makes billy hargrove scary is the way he presents himself, the glare that suggests he knows people won't mess with him. and they don't, amd they don't mess with steve either for the same reason.

and when billy isn't around to do the protecting, steve's got others. joyce has kicked people out of melvad's before, for harassing a fifteen year-old steve. and five years later she still does it, voice calm and eyes steely. claudia is at every appointment he has, making sure the other nurses and doctors call him by the right name and pronouns. she's there when steve sees the baby's hand for the first time and has a breakdown because he's growing a whole person and doesn't know if he'll really be able to take care of them.

and claudia, she remembers being confused and a little judgemental when steve came out as steve, but that was before she caught him shuffling down the aisles of the library one day, small and clearly anxious about everyone he came across. thirteen year-old steve had lacked the easy confidence he sported now, and it was when she saw him that it sort of clicked. she didn't understand how someone could be a gender other than the one they were born as, but she made a point to greet him as steve any time she saw him and made an effort to accept him. now he's like the older son she never had, dustin's big brother, and when he weeps frantically over the daunting trial of parenthood she takes him by the shoulders and gives him the most serious look she can muster.

"nobody is ever ready for parenthood," she tells him, and one hand comes to wipe his tears away. "but you have exactly the heart for this job. you're going to be the best father in this whole town."

which steve doesn't agree with. the best dad in town is hopper.

hopper, who's been harassing people for harassing steve for years, but is more aggressive about it now because steve really means something to him now. sometimes, eleven calls him her brother, and hop figures, yeah, the kid could use a dad. so he makes a habit of checking up on him, and it gets more frequent now because he's also checking on billy, and with a baby on the way hopper's protectiveness is at an all-time high. nobody wants to fuck with the chief, so no one fucks with steve.

when the harringtons find out, steve's dad is livid, but it's steve's mother who keeps him from lashing out. the couple can't stand the blow to their social life and so it's off to lansing for them, a fresh start or whatever. the house stays under their name, though, and steve and billy make it theirs. the cosy master bedroom becomes steve's, billy finally decorates the guest room downstairs as his own. his mother calls sort of regularly, she's not thrilled about the situation but she's eager for a grandbaby to spoil, and steve counts that as a blessing.

of course, the party freaks out when steve announces his pregnancy. it's not like they didn't know steve could get pregnant, but they've never considered the idea that he would. eleven, max, and will are immediately thrilled, discussing baby names and wanting to pat his belly - especially el, who's never really experienced a pregnancy. mike and lucas are a little weirded out, but mike brings steve a bunch of baby books left over from holly and lucas donates his own old toys, declaring that baby harrington was going to be the coolest baby ever if he got to help look out for the little one. dustin doesn't know how to feel initially, which stresses steve out, but when someone throws a slur at steve three weeks after that dustin flips out, yells himself hoarse at the fucker, and declares himself steve and the baby's most ardent protector. the whole group has already discussed babysitting schedules and, yeah, maybe steve did cry about it, but he's pregnant and it was probably the hormones and not anything else, thank you.

robin gently berates him about sleeping with strangers out of town when she finds out, but after that she takes her position as aunt very seriously. within four weeks she buys three outfits, five stuffed animals, and a french record to help the baby learn the language.

"no such thing as too early," she says as she drops it on the dresser in steve's old room. the new nursery.

it's a labor of love, mostly by billy. woodworking is a big help with his hands so he was all too happy to make a crib himself. again, steve cried, but this time he feels it's justified. billy's put a rocking chair in too, and a record player too - "your taste in music is shit," he'd deadpanned as he brought the thing in. "someone's gotta culture the little snot." amd billy does that all the time, he's called the baby a snot, a turd, a little shit, all that jazz. but his face is softer than it's ever been and that makes steve smile every single time.

steve's labor of love starts five weeks early, much to his horror, and it hurts like a bitch. he gives birth early in the morning after a rainy night. she's a little replica of steve, down to the moles on her cheek, and he doesn't think he's ever known love until he looks at his daughter and feels the almost painful swell in his chest. he cries as he hugs her against his chest and swears on his life he'll do right by this wondrous little girl. her name is nikita - no, not after the elton john song, though later when she asks that's what he tells her, just so she can throw her head back and groan, "daaad!"

no, she's named after his grandmother. and she gets rosaline for a middle name after billy's mother. because, even if they didn't say it, it's clear billy intends to co-parent. he doesn't call it that, he just says he's helping a friend, but he's the one who changes her diaper at night and bounces her to sleep listening to metallica and teaches her to eat spaghetti.

and originally, he's the one she calls dad.

first it's baba, which steve thinks is in reference to the fact that billy bottlefeeds her, and billy thinks it's similar enough to "billy" to not be anything more than that. but she gets older and learns to say billy and steve, and still calls him baba. baba and papa. and to the outside world it makes sense, they're a little family, steve and billy ooze a chemistry anyone else can't deny. but it takes them three extra years to get with the program and become a couple.

to this day, niki claims there aren't more clueless people out than her dads when it comes to love.

#steebie writes #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i'll come up with a name for this au later but y'all should ask me about it

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morganas-pendragons · 4 years ago

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Goodbye For Now | Din Djarin

I had a dream the same day this aired that incorporated Goodbye by Avril Lavigne... and yeah, this was born. I put a lot of my own experiences into this fic. It’s very personal. Regardless of that, I hope you enjoy!

tag: @earthtokace / @kyber-queen / @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol

This is literally the first fic in years I’ve used Y/N and it’s just one line for the fic, and I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written on Tumblr.

Word count: 5.1k OOPS

After

In the quietness of a little room in the back of an inn on Nevarro, the question asked by a grieving Din Djarin rolls around in your mind. You hadn’t been able to give him an immediate answer. It was too fresh. Too heavy.

What’s the hardest part about letting go?

As The Mandalorian sleeps fitfully behind you with his arm wound tightly enough around your waist to ensure you do not disappear in his sleep - because has he not sacrificed enough? - you ponder his question as much as your sleep deprived mind is able.

Din.. I think the hardest part about letting go is being able to accept that the people you’re letting go of aren’t apart of your life anymore. They aren’t physically with you anymore. They aren’t imprinted on your memory, on your soul. You just have to let it... fade. Let them fade until they're just a story.

Your eyes flicker down to the ring that lays on your left finger.

But in a galaxy as remarkable as this one... There’s always that glimmer of hope that someday, maybe someday... they’ll come back to you. That they won’t leave you.

“And Grogu will never leave you Din.” You whisper, wrapping your hand around his forearm and lightly squeezing it as you settle into the warmth of his embrace. “Never.”

Before

Your blood chills in your veins at the words, “I go alone.” because there is no possible way in Sith hells you are allowing Din to walk onto that cruiser alone. As Bo-Katan reiterates the plan to the crew around you, your eyes are focused on the rigid and silent Mandalorian standing across the holo-table.

You’re not coming with me.

Are you really naive enough to believe I’m letting you go alone, Din? You snap, to which he winces at your sharp tone. If Gideon is half intelligent as I think he is, he’ll have installed impenetrable defenses on those dark-troopers. You'll need a Jedi to get through them.

You can practically feel the burn of his gaze through the helmet. It’s obvious he wants you with the larger group, but you refuse to bow when the life of your son is at stake. If he’s going to retrieve the baby, you very much intend on remaining by his side to ensure the safety of them both.

Until the end.

Fine. You stick by me, don’t say a word- He pauses and swallows the reluctance in his throat that dies when he meets your eyes through the helmet. You know he’s looking at you... and you know how fearful he is. And please, don’t die.

You beam. Dying without you, Din Djarin? I have no intentions of doing that anytime soon.

The two of you disengage from the shuttle, trekking through the bodies left in the wake of the women in the landing bay as you move in the direction of the brig. Doctor Pershing had disclosed that Gideon had been keeping the baby there, so there was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t still remain within the same cell.

Your blood roars in your ears as you disengage the lock on your staff and hold the hilts of each saber in your hands. The Force envelops you in its comforting hold - wraps around your bones and your scars and your muscles and invigorates you with a strength you haven’t felt since before The Republic fell - and guides your steps that will lead you in the direction of the little one who holds a large piece of your heart.

The other piece is held in the hands of The Mandalorian.

Din. You murmur. I just need you to know that you may see a side of me today that you’ve never seen before. If that in any way changes how you feel about me-

He stops you short just as a pair of Stormtropers jog past. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you. He sounds certain, almost confident, in his answer. The sound of it makes your chest warm.

Never?

Never.

It’s right there on the tip of your tongue. You’ve only said it to each other once in the time that you’ve been together, but you’ve never desired to say it more then this moment, but it doesn’t feel right. It’s too rushed. Dancing too close to the edge of anticipation as you seek out your child.

Your heart nearly jumps out your chest as Din sprints in the direction of the doors where the dark troopers are emerging and one lone soldier has escaped. Before you can react, the man you love is being held against the wall in an iron grip and a fist is repeatedly pounding itself into his helmet.

“Din!”

The Dark-Trooper turns its eyes on you, and you’re suddenly flung into a lifetime of battle skills that kept you alive when you’d served as a Padawan in The Clone Wars and on the front lines of The Rebellion. You slide forward on your knees and remove the legs of the trooper just as Din impales the thing with the Beskar spear slung across his back.

“I’m fine-” He rasps, extending a hand to hold you at arms length as your trembling hands tighten their grip on your saber. It’s not often that Din comes face to face with Death when you're standing right there. People are petrified of Jedi. There aren’t many of them left. Mandalorian bounty hunters, however... They can be more expendable. Easier to break then one who is gifted with The Force.

“C’mon. I’ll take point.”

Right here. The Force whispers its assurance as you both stand in front of the nearest cell, and the moment the door opens you are granted with the sight of Moff Gideon holding the dark saber in front of Grogu.

Buir. You’d completely forgotten the baby had bonded himself to you in the days just shortly after you’d found him. He’d rarely used it. He’d only ever opened himself up to project his emotions onto you in order for you to know when something was wrong, but the minute you see him sitting on that bench, he’s talking to you.

Grogu holds his hands out as if he’s reaching for you, wide eyes pleading for you to remove the Force Suppressant handcuffs that envelop his tiny hands. Buir.

Tears prick your eyes as you ignite your saber. The other sits idle on your hip just out of reach.

“Drop the blaster,” Moff nods to your saber. “And your saber. Slowly.” The two of you drop your weapons simultaneously. “Now kick them over to me.” Before Din can do so, you wave your hand to throw your weapons just out of reach. “Very nice. I didn’t know Jedi could be civil.”

The venom drips from his words. “If you’re not careful,” You warn. “I will show you what I look like when I am not civil.” A split second passes as you watch the fear flicker through his gaze before he’s tightening his grip on the dark saber. Moff had not, to your knowledge, encountered any kind of Jedi up until this point. He only knew of their abilities. Not of what they were capable of - with the dark or the light - with The Force at their disposal.

The damage you could cause....

“Give me the kid.”

“The Kid is just fine where he is.” Gideon replies, to which he begins moving the dark saber back and forth just to hear the satisfying hum of its kyber that rings within the hilt. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? It used to belong to Bo-Katan.” Din stops short at his statement. “Yes. I know you’ve both been traveling with Bo-Katan. Friendly piece of advice, assume I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

Your gaze is still trained on the kid. Did he hurt you? Your voice is gentle as you prod at the shields that Grogu has placed inside of his mind. For someone who has little to no training, he’s rather good at making sure nobody can reach the most vulnerable places of himself. Ad’ika, it’s okay. It’s your buir. Did he hurt you?

Din and the Moff are still talking as your son lifts his head, meets your soft - and familiar, he hasn’t felt this safe since he was last on Tython, knowing you and Din were out there protecting him - gaze, and shakes his head.

Bless The Maker.

You shake yourself out of your reverie at the Moff’s words. “I see your bond with him. The bond the Jedi has made with him,” He comments, disengaging the dark saber as he moves away from the baby. “The two of you can take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.”

The Force coils itself around you. Tightens around your arms as if you pull you away from the baby, and just as Din moves to pick him up, whispers danger before The Moff has reengaged the dark saber and slams the weapon into Din’s jetpack.

“Din! Go!”

Buir. You throw yourself right into the line of fire, regardless of the threat to your own life, and envelop Grogu in your arms as the fight between the Moff and Din carries out into the hallway. Safe.

You aren’t sure if he’s talking about himself or you. Regardless, you cradle him against your chest and bring your knees upward to shelter him within your manse.

Yes. Safe.

The cuffs fall to the floor with a snap of your fingers.

***

You’re straight up itching to punch Bo-Katan right in her smug face. After bringing Gideon to the bridge where the rest of your team awaits you, the Moff confesses the origins behind the Dark Saber - which for some reason is a tradition, despite Mandalore’s loss, that Bo-Katan still follows because it is what she knows - and the Princess of Sundari refuses to take it back from Din.

“You are so stuck in your old ways, Bo-Katan.” You snap, Grogu still cradled in your arm as you pace the width of the bridge. Din still wields the blade and grasps the Moff in the other hand, hardened gaze set on the thick-headed Mandalorian before him. “Wake up! This is not your sister’s Mandalore-”

The youngest Kryze whips around. Shock and disbelief writes itself into your features because that is the only time you can recall seeing such a fire lit within her. “Don’t you dare speak her name-” She snarls, pointing an accusatory finger at you as the two of you step toe to toe. “Or even think of her.”

You are so tempted to release your biggest secret, the one you’ve been keeping from everyone - even before you met Din - for your own safety. You hadn’t even told the Skywalker's about it.

It’s fortunate you didn’t obtain the auburn hair.

“Why don’t you kill him now and take it? It’s yours now.”

“What is?”

“The dark saber.”

Bo-Katan will not relent. Until she wins that saber in combat, she refuses to even lay a hand on the dark saber. You find the entire thing amusing given what your former Master had told you in hushed stories underneath a starry sky about Clan Kryze. Stubborn, prideful women. Satine’s pride had earned her an early grave. Bo-Katan, however... that remained to be determined.

“I yield. It’s yours.’’

Din is too good for the throne of Mandalore. All he wants in life is a ship, the baby, and you. That is what drives him to hand the dark saber over to Bo-Katan. That is what drives him at all.

You know about the Dark Saber. You’ve heard the tales surrounding it since you were small, stranded on a home world you’d have rather never seen again with your father and a thrumming lightsaber crystal. The Force will be with you. Always. He had made that promise just before he died, and you had carried his words with you ever since. That man had sheltered you, raised you, made you his own.

And as Din watches you hold that Dark Saber out in front of your hand, he finally sees the resemblance. He sees the ferocity in your gaze and the defeat in Bo-Katan’s, he sees how similar you too are in both personality and physical appearance.

What the kriff?

“He’s right. The power is in the story, not the weapon.” Darkened eyes meet your own as your pulse thrums erratically beneath your grip on the Dark Saber. “Ironic how a Jedi raised on Coruscant knows more about Mandalore then most of the people in here, two of which are from Mandalore.”

“Who said I wasn’t from Mandalore?”

Before the two of you can argue, one of the alarms begins blaring on the opposite side of the bridge. The dark troopers have breached the ray shields and board the cruiser.

“You’re about to face off with the Dark Troopers. You had your hands full with one, let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

This was the precise moment you’d warned Din about. “Bo-Katan,” You call over your shoulder at the Princess, who turns to acknowledge you as she puts her helmet on. Now or never I guess. “Ke'pare olar, cabuor cuun adiik. Par Clan Kryze.”

Before Bo-Katan can ask you what you’re doing, you reach into your tunic and reveal the pendant you’ve worn since long before you met Din. A token from the man who'd taken it upon himself to raise you, you’d been everywhere with the tiny silver owl that almost never left your person.

Her breath catches in her lungs. The last time she saw that pendant...

“Sarad-”

“Din?” You question hesitantly and lowly enough that the others can’t hear, handing him the baby before you reach for your sabers. “Remember when I told you I was going to do something you’ve never seen before?” Din nods and tightens his grip on Grogu as you activate each saber and turn in the direction of the doors.

“Yes.”

The Mandalorian catches your trembling hands wrapped tightly enough around your sabers to turn your knuckles white.

Din swallows the trepidation that lingers in his throat and squares his jaw beneath the helmet, allowing his fear of what may happen to you - despite knowing how well you can take care of yourself - to confine itself to the back of his mind. He can dwell on it later.

You’re making the child’s safety your top priority.

“Don’t let it change anything.”

You cast one last look over your shoulder at the man you love, allowing your gaze to soften as Grogu eyes him, then you, and rests a tiny hand against Din’s. He’s trying to tell you I’ll keep him safe while you’re gone. It’s sweet. Endearing.

“It won’t.” Din replies quietly, to which his voice then whispers I love you across your bond. Your heart nearly explodes with how gentle it is, how he chose now to tell you again after so long of having not heard it. There’s a newfound strength coursing through your body as you turn towards the doors and call to Fennec to open them. “Be safe, Sarad.”

“I will.”

As someone who usually calls on the Light Side of the Force, you’re oddly coaxed to the lingering darkness in the hallways of the Cruiser. You’ve never allowed yourself to fall like the Sith do. You’d had every reason to do so over the years, and yet you never did.

It occurs to you as you make your final stand alone that the only reason you never fell was because you found the baby.

Oh Force...

The metallic footsteps of the dark troopers ring in your ears as you stand vigil before the doors to the room that contains your family. Your aliit.

Forgive me.

“Go on then!” You yell, hoping your voice will carry through the hallways in which they are following to lead themselves to you. “What, are you afraid of a Jedi? I’ve bested the dark, I’ve survived two wars and a mass genocide! Nothing can break me!” You twirl your wrists in the usual jar’kai motions and settle yourself into your favorite defense position. “I’m ready! Are you??”

Outside the main viewport, a lone X-Wing flies within view with the hangar as its destination.

Your head falls to your chest. I’m calling on you... Be with me. The steps grow closer, the anticipation of their lethal capabilities thrumming in your veins. Be with me.

The first dark troopers circle the hall. You peer out of the alcove in which you’re hiding, position yourself in the middle of the platoon, and lift your head towards the ceiling.

Din watches from the surveillance array as the first squad of dark troopers begins trembling. The metal crumbles beneath the weight of your Force grip. “Sarad-” He whispers, fingertips ghosting the screen as he watches the troopers turn in your direction and set their targeting systems on you. “Sarad.”

Be with me.

Unaware of the other Force User who’s just landed in the hangar, your head snaps upward and your instincts kick in as your sabers begin moving of their own accord. You are not the one moving with such grace, such poise, years of training in desert sands with a man who’s constantly dancing with his ghosts.

You are not you. You are simply The Force.

Blue collides with obsidian. Further down the hall, Grogu watches on the surveillance as his buir and the Jedi he’s called upon move to meet each other half way.

Before you reach the newcomer, you’re nearly knocked off your feet by the way his presence radiates in The Force as you clench your hands into a fist and send the last Dark Trooper slamming into the wall.

“No way.” The two of you snap upward to meet each other’s gaze. It’s been years since you’ve seen that familiar face - the same familiar face you’d spent so many nights with training in the forests, the same face that had always softened as the two of you traded stories about your pasts and the Jedi who’d trained you - and it’s a welcome sight that this happens to be the Jedi that your ad’ika had called upon on Tython. “Luke?”

The newcomer throws his hood back to meet your eyes.

“Y/N.”

***

During

Buir. Grogu watches the surveillance screen as you and Luke join one another in the elevator. There’s one small platoon left that’s come from a separate hallway that the two of you can eliminate without barely lifting a finger.

The powerful two Jedi can radiate. It’s cosmic.

It’s alluring. Mesmerizing. A flurry of blue and green weaving between one another as each individual dark trooper is reduced to a pile of smoking metal. Din watches Grogu where he stands, little hand planted on the surveillance screen as the two of you emerge together from the elevator.

“Remarkable.” Din whispers, because it is. The way that the two of you fight is almost like you were born to do it together, to fight with one another and as one another.

The last dark trooper crumbles under Luke’s grasps. When he passes by the camera, Grogu turns to his father and tips his ears back before whining for Din to lift him up.

“Open the doors.”

Din tries not to laugh at the utter indignation on Fennec’s face as he cradles the baby’s neck in his hands, moving around the bounty hunter to stand before the blast doors. He knows they’re safe when you’re standing on the other side of it.

The crowd watches as the newcomer follows on your heels through the smoke left in the wake of your destruction, and the two of you both remove your hoods to acknowledge them.

“Mandalorian.”

“Is he... A Jedi? Like you?”

Luke, ever the civil, folds his hands across his stomach and nods. “Yes.” He says quietly, green eyes softening as the baby peers around the edge of the chair to look at his buir and the man who has answered his call. “Come, little one.”

Grogu looks to Din, and then to you. You can hear his question as clear as day inside your mind.

Are you ready to let me go?

And in that moment, everything comes crashing down in front of you. He’s asking for your permission to go with Luke. He’s asking for the permission of the woman who’d saved him and the man who’d taken it upon himself to keep him safe, to raise him, to let him go with the other Jedi in order to be properly trained. Maker knew you couldn’t do it.

“He doesn’t want to go with you.”

Goodbye, goodbye

Goodbye, my love

“He wants your permission. Both of you.” Luke’s voice breaks through your reverie as you hang your sabers on the belt that’s swung low across your hips. This child has been your livelihood, your reason for breathing, since the year following the genocide of the Jedi. Since you lost your world.

And it seems like you’re about to lose it again.

I can’t hide

I can’t hide what has come

“He is strong in the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect The Child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.” Unfortunately for you, Luke knows you so well that he can feel the weighed projection of your feelings that emanate from you like a flare within the darkness, which is what prompts you to gently usher you towards Din.

“Hey, go on. This is who you belong with. He-He’s one of your kind.”

I have to go

I have to go... and leave you alone...

“I’ll see you again. I promise.”

Wide, innocent eyes flicker between you and Din before Grogu is reaching up, ever the gentle, to press his hand against his helmet. This would be the first and most likely the only time the baby has ever seen Din’s real face.

You flash a questioning look at the man you love. Then, without question, he wraps his fingers around the bottom of the helmet and slowly lifts it off.

The beskar clang resounds within the bridge.

But always know

Always know... Always know

That I love you so..

Your heart has begun to bleed just by watching this exchange. Din has gone so much of his life without knowing what love was, how gentle people were capable of being. That had all changed when The Child had healed The Mandalorian’s lonely heart. It had never been you. It was him who healed you both.

Din’s lips quiver as Grogu presses his hand to a bare cheek. Your tears are becoming harder to keep at bay, and with the sudden tightness in your chest, you’re suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. Nevermind the fact that the room has suddenly begun spinning.

‘’Alright, pal. It’s time to go.” Din said quietly. You aren’t entirely sure if he's talking to himself, to you, or to Grogu. “Don’t be afraid.”

Everything around you is muted. Numb. Like your body is trying to fight a shock that you haven’t experienced since Order 66.

Buir. A tiny whisper, echoing in the back of your mind as a gentle hand rests on your shoulder. A flash of a child’s cry echoes in your ears as a blonde woman hands a baby into the arms of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the very man who had taken it upon himself to raise you. Safe. That whisper grows into the voice of your son. Your son is staring at you over Din’s shoulder and desperately trying to call your attention as your world comes crashing at your feet. Buir is safe.

That’s what he means. Since you’re not going to be looking over your shoulder and sleeping with one eye open anymore just because he’s in the same vicinity as you - such a powerful being inside this tiny body - now, you are safe for the first time since The Empire fell.

The fact Grogu puts your safety over his own makes your heart break.

“You’re losing a child.” It’s Bo-Katan’s voice that brings you back to reality. The gentle and foreign tone she’s using is enough to jar you and bring your focus back to the matter at hand: It’s time for Grogu to be with his- your people. “It’s alright to grieve.”

It is, but you can’t. Not right now.

You stumble forward and wipe at your eyes as you press your front to Din’s back. He’s very clearly overwhelmed by the loss of the baby, but that doesn’t stop him from nodding in thanks to Luke.

Goodbye, sunshine

Goodbye for now

Your anguish is replaced by a split second of joy as Grogu looks at you, waddles forward to cradle your leg against himself and say i love you through his Force Bond before he’s turning in the direction of the astromech who’s just rolled into view.

“May The Force Be With You.” But before Luke walks into that elevator, he casts one last look at you. It’s the same look he gave you before you’d left to make a life for yourself. To be your own person outside of the legacy of the Jedi that you’d been brought up in. “I’m offering you the same opportunity I did when you left, Y/N. You can help me in training The Child with the new Jedi Order I intend to build. There are many young Force Sensitives to find.” He holds out his free hand and tries to hide his smile as R2 beeps his approval. “A new world. Would you like to be a part of it?”

Through your Force Bond, you clearly feel Din’s heart drop right into his stomach and his chest tighten as reality hits him: You and the baby may be leaving him together. That would leave him alone for the first time in several years.. and Din doesn’t remember what he was like before he met the two of you, before he loved the two of you.

He doesn’t want to go back to being a ghost.

“I left you for a reason, Luke.” And just like that, the infamous Mandalorian masks his shock as you step backward and right into his hold, maneuvering your arm so as to take his hand within yours. “And I have no intention to leave my aliit. Not this time.”

Luke nods. It’s all he can do. “Very well. As I said, May The Force Be With You.’’

Grogu looks at the two of you as Luke carries him into the elevator.

Goodbye, brown eyes

Take care of yourself

It is so difficult to keep your composure as your son watches the two of you disappear from view. Your knees are already trembling by the time Din pulls you into his arms, and when the elevator doors close, you throw your head back against Din’s chest and let out a wail that shatters the silence following their departure as the two of you sink to the floor.

I have to go.. and leave you alone

But always know that I love you so

Din’s split second decision comes as he buries his face in your hair and whispers as gently as he is able, “Marry me.”

I love you so

Your eyes snap open to meet his own. Tear filled onyx meets your gaze as you cradle his face in your hands and kiss him - once, twice, three times until he’s open and begging and desperate for more of you - before pulling away to envelop him in the tightest embrace possible.

Oh... he’s so wholly and wonderfully yours.

“Yes.”

***

After

Bo-Katan approaches you as you stand in Slave One, knees brought to your chest and chin resting upon them as she kneels in front of you. You and Din haven’t said a word since you boarded the ship, and it’s a needed silence. You must have time to process your losses.

Why did I have to let him go?

“That pendant.” Bo-Katan whispers. “That pendant used to be in my family, Clan Kryze.” The former Princess of Mandalore tilts her head as your gaze remained focused on the cargo hold, eyes vacant as she continues. “It was mine. That pendant was mine and eventually passed to my sister, Satine. You know about Mandalore before the Empire, you know about Kenobi, you know about The Force.”

Your eyes slowly shift to hers.

“And?”

“I don’t think you’re from some backwater planet. I think you were born on Mandalore,” Her eyes soften, the first time you’ve seen her show any kind of humanity in the entire escapade since leaving the Cantina. You didn’t think she was capable of it. “I think Kenobi raised you wherever he ended up, and I think he was your Master. I think you are Mandalorian, little one.” Bo-Katan stands to her feet and hesitates for a brief moment before resting her hand against your head. “But I don’t know. I never will.”

Your entire body sags into her touch.

“Bo-Katan-”

“Be peaceful, little Jedi.” She stops before turning to look at you over her shoulder, flashing the faintest smile - one you swear you’ve seen before - before returning to her spot beside Koska.

Your eyes flutter as you fall asleep.

***

The End

In the quietness of a little room in an inn on Nevarro, he asks you again.

“What is the hardest part about letting go?”

And this time, you have an answer.

“The hardest part about letting go is knowing they’re somewhere out there in the world, away from you, and you still love them. Love them so deeply and so much that it hurts you to be away from them.” You trace the contours of his exhausted aspect, lightly poking the end of his nose just to see the toothy and bashful smile he flashes in response, and prop your head on your hand as you lightly trace his bicep with steady fingers. “You wanna know what the best thing to do is before you inevitably must let them make their own way?” Din hums his acknowledgement and opens his eyes to meet your own. “You love them. You love him..” You exhale slowly on a sigh and lean inward to press your lips to his forehead.

Din sinks into your hold and allows you to cradle his head to your chest. You bury your face in his hair and reach into your shirt to reveal the owl pendant.

“And you hope it’s enough.”

Hm. Maybe one day you’ll have the courage to tell her.

One day.

#Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x You #The Mandalorian x Y/N #Star Wars imagines #Star Wars oneshots #The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian fanfic

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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

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Love, Hate, Love: Part two

Part One // Part Three

Pairing: Spike x fem!vamp!reader

Request: Spike and the reader really dislike each other until she recalls his human "identity". They were best friends as kids and wrote poetry together and upon remembering this their perception of each other begins to shift. This is part two of three.

Originally requested by: @therapieliteratur

A/N: Head’s up: The timeframe is switched up a bit, Angel left earlier and Spike stayed in Sunnydale since like Lover’s walk or something. It’s vaguely set in season 3 but with very little season 3 written about.

You smiled, skipping through the tall grass. Your best Sunday dress was starched rigid. Binding. But you had not wished to change, anticipation getting the better of you.

You were going to meet him again. It was a youthful love, you had only been a teenager. It was three, maybe four years before your death. Aged twenty.

The summer was uncharacteristically warm. Your eyes viewed this dream in sepia.

There he was. Your love. He averted his gaze as soon as you approached. He did this every time. He was shy, with a poet’s heart. You had always been the more confident one. He had caught your eye, he had been in awe of you growing up. Watching you from afar.

Ever since he could remember, his eyes had only been for you.

You had started to meet this way. Stolen moments. You sat under that large oak tree, on the hill. You could see for miles from up there, but your entire world was right there beside you both.

You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to meet him this way, you knew it. People would talk. But your hearts had sung when you were together. You sneaked glances at each other, your faces bathing in sunlight.

God, you missed the sunlight. Those youthful eyes transfixed on your own. Sparkling in the hazy afternoon sunlight.

You both wrote poetry, that had been how your minds connected. With your hearts following. You were well-educated for the time and he adored that your wit matched his own. That he had someone that could appreciate beauty and every other emotion you could find in nature. In life. Even in death.

You hid the last one close to your chests. It was macabre and others may have laughed. Others did laugh. When you spoke of life and love and death.

You had been viewed as outcasts but nothing mattered when you were together. When you had affirmations of his blossoming love.

Oh, you wrote such poetry. Together you could change the direction that the Earth would turn. Your love, your sweet and undying affections could stop the world on its very axis. You often read aloud. Your own work and others. You gushed over the others beautiful prose.

But this day, this one was special.

He had asked you to marry him that day. Through his carefully thought-out poem. You were both young, but there was no question in your mind. You had known him since you were a child. Your love growing from childlike friendship to subtle affection, before weaving into this unquestionable love. The foundations of your adoration so solid. There was no doubt in your mind.

This thought stuck with you, in your dream. You remember it now. This was a memory, no mere dream.

His love had made you weep like a baby. You could feel the salty tears welling, threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your hand grasped his, so tight.

Yes.

This was his turn for tears to well.

You were just smiling at each other now. You leaned in, initiating this. He had been anxiously awaiting this moment. Had written of it over feverishly. And you felt this now, where you hadn’t in reality. You felt his emotions, knowing they were pure. A pure love.

Your lips met, in a sweet kiss. It was simple and quick, but it was new to you both. Your lips barely grazed his and you found yourself instantly wanting more.

But, you pulled back to look at him. I mean, really looked at him.

Your decades rushed back to you. The wisdom of your age, all you had seen. Growing out of your naivety and the promise of this sweet matrimony. The wedding that never was.

You suddenly recognised him. You knew who was looking back. And you noticed he was doing the same thing. Scanning your face, trying to recall more of this forgotten youthful romance. This innocent love you had shared.

Something shifted as the penny dropped. The recognition. A storm started around you, one that had never occurred on that day. It had been a happy day, you hadn’t known what was to come.

You both started to be pulled in opposite directions.

You tried to cling to him, your hands grasping for him and he reached out. Trying to take your hand. You screamed, being pulled out of the dream backwards.

You recognised that look in his eye. Those crystal blue eyes that had seen you with such favour in your youth. Was the man, no, vampire you now detested.

And you knew it was him. Really him. He was dreaming the same thing. You didn’t know how, but you did.

You woke up with a start. You sat up instantly in bed, breathing heavily despite there being no need. You ran your hand through your hair in disbelief.

Oh no. Oh, God, no.

Don’t let it be him.

It stung. That your only true love could be the root of your current hate. This man, this infuriating man who stood for everything you now fought against.

Oh, you hated him so. For making you feel this way. All these contradictions weaved into the crumbs of affection that were starting to surround you. Leading you to a path you hadn’t travelled since. It was overgrown now, your heart protected by thorned bushes. By barbed wire and electric fencing.

You had let nobody in the same since. Had hidden yourself away, made yourself more reserved. Especially since regaining your soul.

Dreams are funny things. Sometimes abstract. Often a reflection of your subconscious. And apparently, today, they were shared memories of a lifetime ago. You hadn’t even thought about until it all came rushing to the surface that day.

Neither of you knew why now. Why had your minds hidden such glorious moments of your youth?

Of course, you both knew the answer. It was too painful. To remember what happened. The love. The loss.

At the same moment as you, he woke up with a start. His hand still outstretched for you as if he could have pulled you back out of that dream with him. Back into his bed, the way he had dreamed of having you all those years ago.

Oh no. Oh, God, no.

Don’t let it be her.

“Anybody but bloody her” He muttered, pulling the covers from his body in disdain and stalking towards his mini-fridge to get out some blood.

He hated thinking about who he had once been. William. He could barely remember much of that life anymore. He had consciously ignored that part of himself. But now it was all he could think of.

You. Oh God, how he had adored you. He couldn’t recall even now feeling as elated as he had when you had agreed. That summer’s afternoon. Sneaking around after and finding places to kiss you. To hold you.

Stupid, lovesick idiot. That was all he had even thought to do at the time.

His mind swam with such contradictory thoughts. Of course he had tried to reach for you, yesterday. To comfort you. Because you were her. God, he hated you for that.

You both spent that night walking directionless through your own memories. Ones that only now had been unlocked again. It was painful, bittersweet.

The gnawing realisation that your hearts were tugging you closer towards the other was ignored. Pushed away.

You couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Not again.

You were sat in the demon bar. You had steered well clear for a few weeks but there really was nothing like drowning guilt, sorrow and now a fixation on a vampire you had thought you hated like drinking alcohol beside demons that loathed you as much as you loathed yourself.

And, of course, just as you ordered your drink he arrived.

You caught each other’s eye briefly. Both snapping your gaze away immediately once the other met your eye. He didn’t make a beeline towards you straight away like he usually would. You didn’t keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid this time. You wouldn’t dare let him see you looking.

It had been every day since last you saw each other. The same, or similar dreams. Of your youth. Your love. It was hard to face someone after that.

After a long while of arguing with his own mind, he moved to look at you. His silent strength (that you had loved about him) now showing. He would have to study your face, he couldn’t not. He had to check that it was you.

He sighed, taking a massive gulp from his drink. You were so different. Not in appearance but in character. You looked almost broken now. Melancholia pumped through your heart rather than blood. He could tell, his heart almost ached, knowing you were wracked by guilt or whatever it was that happened when vampires gained souls.

You looked up, glaring at him before dropping your look to your drink despite it never doing anything to you. He couldn’t not say anything. What had once been a quiet courage was now a bolder one.

“Oh, look it’s the Slayer’s pet. She loosened the leash tonight, did she? Let you walk around all by yourself?” He prodded. But his heart wasn’t in it, you could hear his usual amusement was failing him tonight. You stayed silent hoping he would just go. For very different reasons than from your last interaction.

You had been exhausted last time, indifferent.

Now it was because it was starting to mean too much. Hurt too much to look at him.

“Pet?” He asked, knowing you didn’t like it. Usually made you talk to him when he called you that. You just continued to stare into your drink, but words started to form in your mouth. A way you wouldn’t speak anymore.

“My heart is leaden, to my grave the thoughts do beckon.” You recited the line from memory. A memory you hadn’t been aware of until recently. You didn’t look up from your drink, you were aching. Guilt and sorrow and him.

His eyes widened, he knew those words. It was you. It had only ever been you.

He couldn’t stop the words that left his mouth, the desperate grasping at the past, “Y-you saw it too, didn’t you?” He pressed. His voice wavered and his jaw tensed at his own nature. His eyes willed you to agree, willed you to show him that you hadn’t changed beyond repair. Hadn’t hardened the way he never thought you could.

“I don’t know what you mean” You said shortly, getting up and downing your drink before moving to walk away.

He swung you around to face him. Your fist clenched expecting a fight. But there was no more fight. You just stared at each other, feeling the proximity more intimately than you ever had before.

Your faces started to soften and you felt it. Because his touch was now reminding you of how he had held you. Stolen kisses and silent confessions of affection. Handwritten love notes and poetry that would make you fall deeper in love. Sunkissed faces and those freckles he used to get when the summer was particularly warm.

Oh God you just wanted to lean in and kiss him and now he was feeling exactly the same. Your minds fought against the embrace.

He dropped your arm as if it was white-hot. Scolding him. As if he couldn’t bear it.

It hurt you both. Stung. His action. You were both in your own heads though. Your minds in turmoil, a tsunami of your own making.

You hated that it was the other. You hated that your hearts had started to hope. You hated that a part of you would easily trade in everything to be back in your dreams. Or to really be back there. Together.

How could it be him? How could that beautiful man, with that beautiful heart, be him. The killer of slayers. The evil, big bad that tried to kill the only people that had been kind to you since you moved here.

How could it be her? How could that once confident, glowing woman be you. The miserable, brooding souled vampire. The one that shone with arrogant self-righteousness. Tried to be good.

Without a word you just walked away from each other. No fight. No subtle jabs at the others opposing nature.

Words failed you now, but your minds spun. Such discordant unending lines of jarring poetry. Cut and spliced together. Love and hate and hope and dread.

It was all-consuming.

Because neither of you were so sure that you were these opposites. Not anymore.

The next day you were sat in the Sunnydale school library. It was a lot different from the education you remember. For the better, you decided.

You were supposed to be lending your expertise, what with the age and knowledge of the demon you were facing this week. But you weren’t really contributing.

You could get quiet sometimes and Angel had warned them not to press you too much about it, understanding why. But you weren’t usually like this. You didn’t brood like Angel did, but you were very obviously troubled by your past.

The group had taken you in, they were fond of you. You had lived through most of their troubles already so you gave them advice when you could. Even with Giles, you offered assistance that he took gratefully. You were the one vampire with a soul he could actually rely on after what happened with Angelus last year.

You were staring at a book as if it were written in gibberish. You were like a statue, you weren’t breathing or blinking.

“What’s up with spooky the soul-haver?” Xander whispered, as if you couldn’t hear it. The boy thought you would have a romance like Buffy and Angel’s. You told him otherwise. He was working on accepting it. Still.

“She’s been having dreams” Willow shrugged, it was all she could get out of you. Buffy looked up, slightly worried. She knew Angel had struggled with visions and bad dreams.

“Spooky can totally hear the human gremlins when they speak words” You muttered and Xander went red, and the others’ eyes scattered away from you which made you half-smile. You began to explain a quick excuse but you were quickly cut off.

“Don’t wig, it’s so far beyond nothing-”

“Slayer!” A familiar voice shouted, “Slayer, come out and face me!”

He had become tired of hiding in the shadows. Since Dru left. He wanted to beat the Slayer. Do something to take his mind off you. He slammed his hand on the walls as he stalked along looking for her.

Everyone shared a look and Buffy took the nearest weapon to her, a sword, and sped off through the corridors to find him before he ran into a teacher who had stayed behind to catch up on their lesson plans.

Both fought, hard. Trading blows with Buffy nicking his skin with the sword. You uncharacteristically stayed to the side.

It was equally matched until Buffy held his shoulder, he had cast an eye towards you. She took the chance and slid the hilt deep into his torso. He groaned in pain. You felt it as if she had struck you herself. You clutched your own body, where the wound was on his.

She didn’t stake him, as if he weren’t worth it. Merely warning him to give up. Buffy turned, satisfied and the others began walking away. Leaving him wounded, his knees buckled and he was on the floor.

All you could think was that he was hurt.

“William!” You shouted without thinking. It was him, no matter what had happened since. It was him.

Your mask had slipped. He saw those kind eyes. You used to look after him, the one that would try to fight any of the bullies of your youth. He had held you back more than once, fearing you would get a reputation. For being improper. And he, for being laughable. Emasculated.

“Didn’t think you cared, sweet” He said, his tone still hard. So different from the lyrical assurances he would whisper in your ear. But the moniker gave him away. Sweet.

He had always called you that. His sweet.

“I-I don’t…” You lied. This was the first time you understood properly that those feelings hadn’t been lost in your youth. They had been hidden. Repressed. Because it was so painful. There had always been something missing, only now you realised.

Losing his favour had been more painful than your own death.

William was waiting at the chapel, the entire day was thick with humidity. The skies grey and threatening to spill.

You had chosen an intimate service. Something that was yours. Just you and those that would witness the union. You would leave your hometown and make a life together. Away from the hard eyes and cruel tongues.

“Oh, I am the very spirit of vexation! Where is my wife to be?” William paced, the sun was starting to set. Darkness settling in.

“She will be timely, do not fret” the vicar spoke with assurance but he was concerned.

Time spun. It slowed and started to stop, dying as his hope did. You never came. He waited into the evening but you never arrived.

He wept, his heart broken and leaking. Salt water rubbing into the wound. Unimaginable pain. He ran. Sobs echoing around the empty chapel.

#Spike x reader #Spike btvs #Spike #Spike x you #Spike imagine #btvs #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #female reader #female #x reader #btvs x you #btvs imagine

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leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Text

Two Faced | Chapter One

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

Shock-waves of terror rush through your body. You can feel your heart thump erratically against your chest and your train of thought is a complete mess. All you know for sure is that your fate is certain, you're going to die. The illegitimate daughter of the Rambova family from the Negri Republic is going to be killed and it just so unfortunately happens to be you. Your eyes are coated in a fresh layer of tears and all you can do is sit there huddled in the corner of your room whilst you pray. Pray to who exactly? You're unsure of that detail.

The days of pain and neglect that you constantly endured ended with the war caused by a single man. That man who was rumored to be cruel enough to murder the child of another enemy noble in cold blood. The Duke of the Paradis Empire. Levi Ackerman. By the emperor's orders he took an army to conquer all of the rebelling, independent countries which surrounded Paradis, and unfortunately for you the Negri republic was one of them.

Soon, the Rambova family was the last of the nobles left within the nation.

"Y/N. Even a little pest like you has a role to play. You must stay back and protect the castle." that was the first and last thing your father said to you when news of the war spread. Your father threw you away and so did the rest of your household. Not even a thank you was issued when they all dashed past you towards the palace's back gates. Truth be told you were simply a child born out of convenience, born to marry another aristocrat to strengthen the family's reputation, but the war made you see your position with even more clarity.

No one ever loved you in this palace, it would be futile for you to say they did, lying would not ease the numbing ache in your heart.

"SEARCH EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY!" One of Duke Ackerman's men alerts the other soldiers and that's when you begin to shiver in pure terror. The shrill screams of the palace maids can be heard and are more than audible, they echo back and forth, settling in the shells of your ears. You really are going to die today and no one's going to save you. Who would? The servants who laughed at you because of your shameful origin? Those servants seem to be at deaths door themselves, you don't hold anything against them. Or would it be your "family" who treated you like the dirt beneath the crevices of their shoes? That "family" had ditched you and left you for dead in the palace. Duke Ackerman was a wild animal and you were a piece of bait to everyone else. No one was going to help you and this was the end of the line.

You gaze out your window and see even more of his army approach. There's not enough time for you to run, even if you attempt to do so you'll be killed in no time at all. Your mother's words echo in your mind. No one was willing to keep her around. A toy, that's what she was for your father, a play thing on the sidelines for when his real wife wasn't well. A few years after giving birth to you mother had fell gravely ill but father did nothing to help. The money needed for her treatment wouldn't have even made a dent in his riches but he did not see it fit to spend such a large sum on the likes of her. He wasn't going to help a courtesan who refused to abort what he deemed a nuisance. That's what you and your mother were - problems, issues, nuisances and inconveniences he wanted nothing to do with.

But right now all you can think about are her last words. They ring in your head and you feel your tears creep right back up. However, they subside when you take the true meaning in.

"Listen carefully, when the grim reaper comes for you, act proudly and look him in the eye without fear. You must do so for me." the one time you had seen her force a smile was then, on her death bed she had smiled so daintily it felt fake. Why did she have to act strong even in her last moments? Why did she have to try her damnedest to hide her pain and suffering from you?

Without a seconds thought you decide to follow her last instructions and what she taught you. Deciding to look death in the eyes, it's the way your mother wanted you to leave. To die proud of yourself was a privilege she never received.

Shakily, you walk towards your dresser and throw on your best dress. It isn't amazing considering the fact that your father barely invested any time in you let alone any money but you made do with it. Tying the faded baby blue ribbon that came with it around your waist you play around with the frilled sleeves. Screams are all you can hear but you swallow away your fear. Putting your hair up into a bun and pinning it back as tightly as you can, your face is in full view now, you won't be able to hide behind your hair when you're finally taken away.

With faith and hope in your heart, that is how you choose to exit. Faith that after this something better was coming. An after life with mother, one where she would be treated the way she deserved. A place where you'd be able to see her smile in sincere clarity. As you stick the last pin into your hair the door to your bedroom rumbles. It takes a matter of seconds for it to be knocked down by three soldiers.

Two of them march towards you and yank you away from where you are in front of your mirror, in the chaos a vase full of flowers shatters and hits the floor. The sound of the glass shattering and hitting the marble floor only makes the situation more intimidating.

The soldiers drag you through the hallways of the castle and the way they grip tightly onto your arms irks you slightly. They're quite literally dragging you towards the slaughter house yet they continue to handle you and the other innocent people within the palace's walls with this degree of brute force. You know you don't deserve to die, nobody here does.

At some point you're thrown to the floor of the main hall, a pain shoots up your side due to the impact of your hip hitting the floor but you soldier through it. You try to look death in the eye but it beats you to it.

Multiple bloody corpses are scattered across the floor. A heap of them are piled up in one corner and your eyes water in defense. The Palace's head chef is one of the latest additions to this pile, her guts hang out, she's been sliced open mercilessly. The contrast between her current form and her usual stern but soft face haunts you.

This was your fate, your body was going to be hauled atop of this pile of corpses. How were you to die? Would you be cut up into bite sized pieces? Would your heart be ripped out of your chest, left to bleed out until you and death would meet?

You place your hands in front of you and they land on the floor as you raggedly breathe in and out trying to calm yourself down. Mother said death was scary but you never thought death would be delivered to you in the form of cold blooded murder.

Your haphazard thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you hear a deep, gravely voice from above your head.

"Child of the Rambova Family." He pauses and your head shoots up to see who's addressing you.

Shaking once again the tears you've been holding back spill out. You are face to face with death himself, the grim reaper in human form. Duke Ackerman. His feline eyes are devoid of any emotion and he looks down at you through his eyelashes as though you're an animal.

Looking you up and down as if you're nothing but a pest you can't help but smile at that. Everyone thought of you that way, you weren't ever good for anything right? Your thoughts make you wallow in even more sadness and you burst into an extensive crying fit in front of the Duke himself.

He murmurs something inaudible under his breath then you see him swing his leg backwards. He savagely kicks your left shoulder and you fly towards the cold hard floor."You're oh so, stupid." Shrieking, as his boot drives further into you, the lump in your throat hardens. "For not." another kick is delivered to you this time, it hits your right shoulder angularly. "Running away." a final kick lands on the left side of your face and despite his boots digging into the hollows of your cheeks you don't cry out in pain like you did the first time. That is until he swiftly holds you by the neck and firmly slams you up against one of the marble walls to perfectly punctuate his point. Letting go of you midway, you crash to the ground again, gulping and gasping for air.

His eyes. They're stone cold. You can't sense any emotion behind him. Yet he kneels down to your level his slim fingers trace the tear stains across your cheeks. The coarse but warm texture of his hand catches you off guard, you aren't accustomed to human touch and by reflex you unintentionally move slightly closer to his warm palm. He sneers at you absolutely disgusted with the way you react to his touch.

"It's a shame that you're objectively my kind of woman." His eyes snake towards the ribbon which cinches your waist in and the tension you feel increases ten fold. His gaze then meanders to your collarbone which is now crudely exposed after your one sided fight. His eyes darken "What a shame indeed." He mutters.

You begin to think that maybe the man above you has some pity left in his heart and you reach your hand out to possibly negotiate but before you can the fatal sound of him unsheathing his sword is heard.

Not even a knife can cut the tension in the air but somehow the words he shamelessly announce next manage to do just that.

"I shall give you the honor of having me personally see to your death."

Your life flashes before you eyes. He darts towards you and the cold edge of his sword is as close as it can be to your neck.

Don't close your eyes, Don't close your eyes. Look him in the eyes for the sake of mother.

Defiantly, you glare at him through the tears which mingle with the perspiration which coats your face. The tears rain down your cheeks and a droplet lands on his hand.

He flinches at the damp feeling but you see the grip he has on his handle harden.

You hadn't noticed in the previous frenzy and chaos but he's covered head to toe in blood, the ugly sight causes you to try and hold in your external reaction. But you can't fight away the tears, you clamp down on your lips so tightly that blood gradually trickles down your chin.

There were so many activities you wanted to try. You wanted to wear a beautiful dress, you wanted to fall in love, you wanted to marry, you wanted to see the world and all it had to offer. You wish as hard as you can for some sort of help some sort of release. You feel terrible because you aren't facing death in the eye. You aren't proud, you've betrayed your mother. Your blood and tears mix together and you swear you see a glint of something from the corner of your eye, but that's not the issue right now. You're about to die. This is real. This is all real.

You watch in fear as he swings his blade above his head preparing to end it all, right here, right now but suddenly a flash of white light illuminates your surroundings, you and the Duke are both momentarily blinded by it. The light morphs into an intricately beautiful symbol. Then, the clatter of his sword falling to the floor is heard. Your thoughts race, what on Earth is going on? At that moment a streak of light pierces through Duke Ackerman's chest and he groans in pain.

Pulsing from the pattern is a strange, bright light. You watch it flicker, changing colors from silver, to a misty white, then it suddenly weaves itself into a sky blue. You clench your fists, your nails digging deeper into your palms. Threads of silver then engulf both you and the Duke. You both become a part of the stunning floral designs. It's whimsical being trapped inside the kaleidoscope of colour, it's all so beautifully horrifying.

Out of nowhere both you and the Duke are flinged to the floor and the performance evaporates away. Curled up in a ball you're far too fearful to look up and see what has happened. You hear his voice again.

"My lady, please forgive me for my rudeness." The Duke murmurs his words and you can't make out whether or not he's being condescending or is genuinely apologetic.

Then he does the unthinkable, he falls down on one knee.

"And please allow me to receive the pleasure of marrying you." He sticks his hand out gracefully expecting you to hold it but you stare at him in pure horror.

"From the moment I saw you my heart was simple ensnared by your beauty." He holds onto your cheek affectionately, it feels different this time, you can feel the love practically spill out of his voice and touch but you're ultimately confused. He can't possibly love you, you're strangers. Oh, and he did try to decapitate you a few seconds ago.

His eyes are the definition of infatuation, they seem to glint with happiness even in the dimly lit hall and you have no idea what to say to this sudden confession. You don't even know where this confession has come from.

Then realization dawns on you.

It does sound impossible but it's really the only thing you can find remotely believable at this point.

Has someone perhaps cast a spell on the Duke? And is that someone, you?

You stare at his hand apprehensively and you know you've got no other choice. Even if he is joking and ridiculing you, at least you know you've tried to not fall directly into death's expectant hands.

"I...am yet to except. However, I shall give you a fair trial to court me." You awkwardly agree and place your shaky palm into this hoping he isn't fooling around. Much to your relief he isn't, you witness the man's eyes soften as he faintly kisses your knuckle.

Your surroundings are a landscape of dead bodies, you want to jerk your hand away from the monster in front of you, but your goal is survival.

Thinking about what exactly you have got yourself into, it doesn't seem to be pretty at all.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #aot #snk #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi angst #levi smut #the smut comes later ok ok pls don't attack me T__T #duke levi #leviiattacks

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coolcattime · 3 years ago

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The first few executions I've written for the Mianite Danganronpa AU!! These are the executions for Sonja, Jordan, Capsize, and Skipper (only one of them is actually marked as a blackened but I wanted to write one for every character).

As a brief trigger warning; these are executions so obviously except description of death and injury. For these particular ones, there is mention of hanging, decapitation, and minor injuries prior to death. I've tried to keep all these descriptions brief so these are minor methods.

Under each execution will be a brief explaination to my thoughts and inspirations for them, which will contain some spoilers for danganronpa, and some fangames.

Also, some of these executions refer to Monokuma, that's because I haven't gotten a replacement for him for Mianite Danganronpa, and therefore have been working with him as the killing game host for the time being.

I hope you enjoy!!

{Characters in these executions}

Sonja (Ultimate Animal Rescuer): Cage Match!

Sonja finds herself in a cramped cage. She attempts to leave, only for Monokuma to appear, locking it with a padlock and wielding the padlock shut. A countdown appears, and panicking she attempts to break out of the cage, but only succeeds in making it fall on its side, leaving the door against the ground.

As the cage falls, five spotlights turn on, each illuminating the cage of a growling Monokuma Fox. With the countdown having only thirty seconds left; she begins kicking at the bars of her cage to attempt to escape. She manages to kick one bar off, which creates a gap but one too small for her to fit through.

The countdown reaches zero and the cages with the Monokuma Foxes open. The descend onto Sonja, entering her cage through the gap she made and ripping her apart.

Explaination:

This is probably my least favourite execution this is batch, primarily because I wanted to do something very different, but ended up switching away from the idea at the last minute. Originally, I wanted to do something related for fur (as I know foxes are hunted for furs) but I honestly couldn't think of a why to do that without switching off topic or making it feel like fan service. I might actually rewrite this one to be an illusion to fox hunting, but I think that would be after I got some more idea.

I actually didn't have much in-game inspiration for this (though I think it has similar vibes to a execution from Penguinronpa, which is a fan project I really recommend checking out if you liked Club Penguin and are up for a lot of reading). However, that's more because the animal themed executions aren't my favourites. But I really liked the idea of Sonja being killed by someone she strived to protect, especially as protecting people is one of her main goals in the story.

Jordan (Ultimate ???/Archer): Shoot in the Dark.

Jordan is chained to a wall at the back of what looks like an abandoned warehouse. On the wall behind him, a crude target has been spray-painted, with the centre of the target on Jordan’s chest. Monokuma appears with a bow and a quiver of arrows. He places a blindfold over his eyes and takes aim.

Monokuma begins rapidly firing, the arrows flying wildly around the room. Most of them end up stuck in the walls, but a few find their mark in non-lethal places on Jordan’s body. Shaking, Jordan looks down as his body. Monokuma fires one final arrow, this one hitting Jordan in the neck. Blood leaks from the ultimate’s wounds and mouth for his last moments before he dies.

Explaintion:

I think this is probably the most simply execution of the batch, but I honestly don't think it needs to be more complex. I thought about maybe doing something with Jordan's mystery talent, but since Jordan isn't planned to be executed, I decided to just focus on his actual talent.

The main inspiration for this was actually a fan execution for Nagito that I found awhile ago. (Link)

I really liked the general vibe of being strapped to a target, and obviously a person being blindfolded and firing a bow is a pretty common image. I also really liked the idea that the final shot doesn't even actually hit the target on Jordan's chest and instead hits his neck as I thought that would almost be a final insult for the ultimate archer.

Capsize (Ultimate Navigator): Thousand Cut Journey

Capsize finds herself in a maze of thorns with a collar around her neck that has a timer counting down. A sign directs her to find the centre of the maze for a key to the collar. She begins to rush through the maze, having to push through parts of the maze where the walls are incredibly close together, cutting through her clothes and into her skin.

When the timer reaches the halfway point, the walls of the maze start closing in. Capsize panicking, picking a random directing and running, attempting to avoid injury but that proves harder and harder with the thin spaces she has to move through. In the darkness, she thinks she spots her brother and Sonja. With the time remaining growing shorter, and her collar being to beep, she rushes towards them.

She bursts into the centre of the mazes, nobody in sight but there is a pillar wrapped with roses, upon which sits a key. With the beeping intensifying, she rushes to grab the key. She shoves the key into the lock. As the collar falls, so does her head. Her body slumps, her head rolling along the ground until it hits the pillar.

Explaination:

Welcome to my favourite execution of this batch (obviously I give my hyperfixation character my favourite death). I knew I wanted a maze for Capsize, though the type of maze changed as it was originally inspired by the minotaur maze myth before I switched over to thorns and a head cutting collar to go with Capsize's themes in the fandom, namely roses and having her neck sliced.

There were three inspirations for this execution; the second execution in V3, Stand of Agony (Link; Warning for some kinda fanservice); the third execution in Super Danganronpa Another 2 (Link; warning for decapitation and hanging); and an unused execution from the first game (Link). Obviously the main inspirate is Stand of Agony, with somone desperately going through extreme measures to avoid their execution, only for there not to have ever been a way out, with aspects of the other executions that I thought suited the theme put in.

Skipper (Ultimate Second-in-Command): Final Orders

Skipper is strung up like a marionette with strings attached to the ceiling. He’s in what looks like a large warehouse with various boxes around the place, and one wall made of glass. In front of him stands Monokuma, dressed to appear like Capsize. On the other side of the glass stands everyone else.

Monokuma begins giving orders, the strings pulling Skipper and forcing him to carry them out. It becomes clear that he’s being forced to build something, then it becomes even clearer that he’s building gallows. Capsize is now at the front of the group and having realised what is going to happen has begun to attempt breaking the glass.

The gallows are fully built, and Monokuma gives a final order. Skipper is made to climb the gallows and put the noose around his neck, Monokuma standing by the leaver to trigger the execution. The strings drop from the ceiling and, now free to move, he attempts to remove the noose, but Monokuma pulls the leaver before he can.

It cuts to Capsize’s reaction, kneeling on the ground and sobbing. It pulls back to everyone else, looking on horrified, and then passing back pass the silhouetted hanging body of Skipper.

Explaination:

So, Skipper is the only one of this group who is a blackened. He also happens to be a blackened where I've come up with an entire case as to how the murder happens (the only thing I don't know if the victim). So I decided to have some features of the execution link into the case, such as the ultimate method of death and the reactions of Capsize.

The major inspiration for this execution is the second execution of Danganronpa 2 One Woman Army (Link). Especially the puppet imagery.

#mianite #mianite au #mianite danganronpa au #captain sparklez #omgitsfirefoxx #captain capsize #skipperredbeard #cw death #cw injury #cw hanging #cw decapitation

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the-hidden-writer · 4 years ago

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And Into The Fire

Chapter 12: A Definitely-Not-Plan

Summary: Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Taglist: @squidsushi , @astro-aye , @shitmyex, @sharks-are-friendly, @snakeguy99

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Definitely-Not-Plan

One of the worst parts of being a parent, Linda thought, was having to wake up your children when they were sound asleep with peace written all over their faces. As their original plan of spending the night at the campsite was discarded without warning, Aaron fell asleep very quickly into their high-speed journey to Silicon Valley. Even Rick (who had been adamant that he would stay awake) began to snore after an hour or so.

She hadn’t minded. She would much rather her boys be well-rested for whatever they were about to face.

While driving, it felt like the journey was taking forever. But now that they’d arrived it felt like it had taken no time at all. They weren’t too far from the massive Pal Labs facility that looked very menacing as it loomed in the near-distance.

They’d arrived at their destination. And she had no idea where to go from here. Unless they simply charged into the building…

Doing her best to brush all illegal-sounding thoughts from her mind, Linda continued to gently shove her son awake.

“Aaron, sweetie, we’re here.”

“Mmm not yet, Mom...”

She briefly considered leaving Aaron in the car to let him sleep. Which, although it may keep him safe, could also result in him being in a whole different danger that was out of their control. She’d rather keep him close.

“Rise and shine, son.” Rick said, purposefully speaking in a louder tone which caused Aaron to wince and squeeze his eyelids shut tighter. “We need to rescue the bots.”

That caused Aaron to stir a little. “But it’s still dark.”

It was true, dawn was only just beginning to break and soon they would lose the cover of darkness. But at least there was a chance, as small as it may be, that fewer people would be there due to it being the middle of the night.

However, Linda doubted it. Especially if both of the bots were inside.

“So what’s the plan, Lin?” Rick asked her once Aaron began to sleepily climb out of the car.

Shoot. She’d promised to have thought up a plan by the time they’d arrived in exchange for letting her drive the car. And in her defence she had tried, but without knowing what the situation was going to be like she couldn’t think of anything apart from…

“We storm in there and demand that they give them back.”

The hesitance on Rick’s face was totally justified. “Uhh, are you sure? No offence but that sounds like a pretty dumb plan, dear.”

“Got any better ideas?” She quipped back. And although it sounded sarcastic, the question was completely genuine.

“Why don’t you just pay for the bots?” Aaron supplied, shutting the car door in a way that sounded far too loud for the serenity of the night around them. “Just buy them off Pal Labs then they’ll leave us alone.”

“Aar, that’s a great idea!” Rick exclaimed in a hushed voice. “We may be completely broke afterwards, but it is a good idea.”

“Yeah…”

Linda had to admit that the idea was smart and even had a better chance of working than her plan. But there was something about the notion of having to buy her sons back that didn’t sit well with her. To treat them as collectable items, as inhuman as they were, went against all of her instincts.

(Her… sons? The bots. Her boys. Her… sons.)

“Let’s keep that as a last resort.”

“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” Rick agreed. “I’d like to save my money if possible, 'specially since I’m not working at the moment.”

She smiled at her small victory. Now came the hard part. “So… shall we go?”

“What, we just drive right up to them and walk in?” Rick frowned. “We really don’t have a better plan?”

“We never have a plan.” Aaron added from below them. “But we always win in the end, don’t we?”

Linda bit back a comment about how last time was nothing but pure luck. She also admired her son’s optimism and tried to let some of it sink in to calm her own nerves.

“You’re right.” She said, bending down to kiss Aaron’s forehead. “We’ll get them back.”

Even if it meant having to tear the whole building to the ground.

~-.-~

“I don’t understand.” Muttered Katie. “So you were trying to decommission them?”

“That’s what I thought they were trying to do.” Mark replied. “That’s what I was trying to do, but apparently that wasn’t the plan. They want one disassembled and one online for some reason.”

With Agent Ward busy elsewhere and due to the lack of agents/employees at this time of night, nobody was able to supervise the two as they sat in the locked office. It gave them an ample opportunity to have a private chat.

And it also allowed Katie to gather as much information about what the hell was going on here.

“Right… but why?”

Mark shrugged. “Beats me. Unless they want to build their own robot army-”

He paused abruptly- a look of horror growing on his face.

“Oh my god they wanna build a robot army.”

Katie wasn’t even surprised. Of course that was what they were planning, what else could it be? The robots had already proved their worth at being able to take over the world, just imagine what they would be able to do if they were utilized by the government of any country, let alone the United States.

“...Are you sure you can put him back together?” She asked quietly.

Mark Bowman blinked. “What?”

“Eri- uh, that Pal MAX bot in the lab.”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m pretty sure. I specifically told them not to break anything when taking it apart, whether they listened or not is out of my hands.”

“Right.”

They fell into silence for a few moments. Mark was sitting in his wheelie chair while Katie sat on the computer desk at the side of the room. It was surprisingly comfortable.

It was Mark that was the first to speak up again.

“You called it Eric.”

Katie hung her head. It sounded a lot more like an accusation than a comment. “Yeah… I did.”

“Why?” Mark Bowman continued. “Because the Evil Warden can’t be right, you and your family aren’t actually-”

“Working with them?” Katie finished. “I mean yeah, if adopting them counts.”

She knew it was probably a bad idea to tell him the truth, but she really needed an ally in this place, and since Mark Bowman seemed to be a prisoner in his own facility he was the best (and only) person for the job.

It took a few seconds for the implications to sink in.

“...You what? Adopted them?”

“Yeah.” Said Katie nonchalantly. “They helped us save the world, actually. A dinosaur fell on them and they turned defective and told us how to stop Pal. We literally couldn't have done it without them.”

The expression on Mark Bowman’s face was priceless.

“It's a long story. And then when all the other robots switched off, they had nowhere to go so we took them in.”

Mark looked stunned. “So you use them like normal? Get them to cook and clean and stuff?”

“God, no!” Katie cried. “They’re a part of the family! They’re practically children and they have their own personalities and everything. They gave themselves the names ‘Eric’ and ‘Deborahbot 5000’.”

“...And ‘Eric’ is chopped up on a table in Lab 5.”

Katie sighed, the memory of what she’d seen flashing through her mind. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“Well that makes a lot more sense.” Said Mark. “I still think turning them off is the best option though. They may seem nice, but they’re dangerous-”

“No they’re not! They’re absolutely harmless! Deborahbot practically started crying when he stood on a beetle by accident!”

Mark scoffed, but at least he didn’t argue.

“We all love them.” She added. “We just want them back. And I’m pretty sure the whole world is safer if they’re with my family instead of the CIA.”

Mark seemed to contemplate this for a few moments. “I mean…”

All of a sudden, the computer behind Katie began to flash red, causing her to jump straight off and Mark to leap onto his feet.

“What’s that?!” Questioned Katie, pointing at the screen that was flashing the words: CODE #15.

“That’s the alarm.” Said Mark worriedly, rushing to the computer. “Someone’s broken in.”

Comments make my day! :)

#the mitchells vs the machines #tmvtm #fic #fanfic #linda mitchell #aaron mitchell #rick mitchell #katie mitchell #mark bowman #eric and deborahbot5000 #eric and deborahbot #and into the fire

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mochegato · 4 years ago

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Enemy Mine

(Part one of the Jasonette Mine series)

Red Hood heard the thud behind him midsentence, which was rude, really. They could have at least waited until he was finished with his instructions. He hung his head and let out a long, deep sigh. “Damn it.” He would have pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration if he hadn’t been wearing his full helmet. He motioned to the henchman next to him to wait a second. He needed to gauge how bad things were before coming up with a plan. There was still a chance to save this operation, depending on who it was and whether he could distract them enough.

He turned slowly and let out a low growl. That was not who he wanted to see. Ladybug here was worse than Batman, it meant the rest were likely to come to back her up at the first indication of an issue. The others he could appeal to their vanity and let them think they could handle it alone, maybe even distract them long enough to complete the mission, but she wasn’t nearly so arrogant. Not to mention Bruce seemed to keep an extra close eye on Ladybug when she was dealing with him, like he was more worried about him than one of the other rogues.

But ultimately, the real reason he didn’t want her here now was he didn’t want her to know what he was about to do. He wasn’t afraid she would get hurt. She could protect herself better than any of the rest of the bats and he would protect her if it came down to it. What he couldn’t protect her from was seeing what he was about to do. But it was too late to turn back now. There was too much riding on it. He turned back to his henchman. “Continue on like we planned. Get everything ready.”

“And her?” the henchman gritted out with a glare at her.

“I'll handle her,” Red Hood assured him and nodded toward the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Red Hood turned to her with a killer smile she couldn’t see under his helmet. Time to distract. And if that included charming the pants off of her, God he wished that could be literal, so be it. “So you’re going to handle me, huh? What exactly does that entail?” she asked with a teasing smile.

He let a breath out. He wasn’t prepared for her to flirt back. “Ladybug,” he answered as casually as he could and nodded to her. “We've got to stop meeting like this.”

“Whenever you're ready to walk away from this life, I'll happily work with you instead of against you.” She moved into the office and perched on the edge of his desk. “Until then though, this is the only way we will.”

He tracked her movements and let his eyes linger on her as she leaned back on his desk. He took another breath and let it out slowly. He needed to focus. Today was too important. “That's something to consider, beautiful.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. The seriousness of her expression was offset by the amused glint in her eyes. “You trying to charm me out of fighting?”

He leaned closer to her. “You saying I could?”

She cocked her head to the side as if in thought. “Hmmm. Not today. But by all means, continue trying. It’s much more enjoyable than the tactics most rogues take.”

He chuckled and leaned away again. “If I was trying to charm you, you'd be charmed, Princess. I’m just stating facts.”

She looked down for a few seconds. When she looked back up at him it was softer and shyer than he had seen her before. “Does that mean I have a chance at talking you into leaving this life?” She kept her eyes on him for a few more seconds as if trying to gauge his response, but he just sat there frozen. Seemingly finding her answer, she moved over to the large window overlooking the warehouse floor. “Because this is kind of a big operation to just walk away from.”

He moved next to her and crossed his arms. “Hey, this operation keeps drugs off the streets and keeps the pedophiles away from the kids.”

Her eyes softened. “I know,” she said gently. Her eyes became harder. “But that's not what this is about today. Is it? This is about solidifying your control.”

“Which I need to do in order to continue to help,” he pointed out sharply.

“This going to get people hurt.”

“We're trying to minimize that. Try to limit it just to the people who deserve to be hurt.”

“And who’s that? Who deserves to be hurt, to be killed? Does just being around make a death sentence deserved?”

Red Hood scoffed. “If one person dies it's too much, huh? Sharing the Bat’s beliefs now?” he jeered at her.

Ladybug looked at him curiously. Not at all put off by the false persona he was putting on. “I’m not a fan of death, I'll grant you. I never have been. Creation, you know?” she motioned to herself with a small, wry smile. “But I’m more concerned about who's going to die.”

“Nobody is going to get hurt but the people in that building, Pixie.” He propped his arm on the wall next to her and leaned closer to her. “I don’t suppose you’d trust me on that.”

She looked at him analytically for a few seconds. “Do you know why I’m here?”

He rolled his eyes and leaned away from her. “To ruin my fun?”

“Added bonus, definitely,” she smirked at him, “but not the original intent.” Her face suddenly took on a more serious expression. “I’m here to warn you…”

“Oh?” he cut her off sharply. His eyes shone dangerously as he moved closer to her until he towered over her, looking down at her with a malevolent smile. “Warn me about what?”

Ladybug straightened up and met his eyes unintimidated. Red Hood cursed his helmet for hiding his normal intimidation tactics. “We know about the plan…” she continued.

“And the Bat is planning on interfering?” he cut her off again, moving even closer until their chests were almost touching, a hard edge in his voice.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow, but didn’t back away. “And,” she started, letting her annoyance at him not getting her point and repeatedly cutting her off show in her tone, “Batman knows and intends to stop it before it happens,” she confirmed, “but how do you think we found out? It wasn’t from one of your guys. They know you’re coming. They’re prepared. This isn’t going to be as easy as you thought.”

His body went rigid. He looked past her onto his warehouse floor watching his men as they finished the last of the preparations.

Ladybug watched him closely for a few seconds. “Did I lose your attention so quickly? My information not interesting enough to keep your attention? Or are you already planning something to hurt all of us?”

“Never to hurt you, Pixie. And you’re more than enough to keep my attention,” he answered sincerely if a bit distractedly. “But, that's not one of my guys.”

“What?” She whipped around to look out over the warehouse too.

“I know everyone who works for me.” His voice was forcefully calm as his eyes flicked from person to person. He pointed at someone loading a box. “He doesn't.” His eyes frantically searched. If there was one, there was more. “Neither is he. Damn it. This is an ambush.”

Red Hood rushed to the computer at his desk and started pressing keys to flip through security camera footage. “Son of a…”

“What?” Ladybug was next to him in an instant looking at the screens too.

“You were right. They knew and they brought the fight to us,” he growled making a mental calculation of how many people were surrounding his warehouse and their weapons.

Ladybug sucked in a breath and reached up to tap the com in her ear. Red Hood grabbed her arm before she could notify the rest of the bats. “We don’t need them here,” he growled.

Ladybug’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “This is out of your control now. There’s too many of them and they are too well armed.”

“My men and I can handle this,” he growled at her.

Ladybug let out a frustrated huff. “You saw how many of them there are out there! And some are already inside!”

“I don’t need his help. We. Can. Handle. This,” he insisted, crossing his arms across his chest. “We have a stockpile of armaments here. We can defend ourselves without outside help.”

Ladybug let out a frustrated, muted scream as she pulled on her hair. He moved closer and raised an arm intending to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. Instead, she turned to face him and shoved his shoulder hard enough for him to stumble back. “You are just bound and determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?” she hissed at him. She stood up to her full height, her back ramrod straight, an angry frown on her lips. “And what good does that do anyone? How does that help… the street kids?”

Hood’s eyes softened, his shoulders dropped slightly. “Just the street kids you’re worried about?” he teased lightly. “Better be careful, Pixie. I might start to think you like me.”

She huffed and looked away. After a second, she looked back at him with a determined set to her face. “So what’s the plan?”

“You’re going to help?” he asked, too shocked by her willingness to help to keep it out of his voice.

“This is going to get bad, especially if they get to the stockpile. I want to contain the damage. But,” she turned to him with a warning in her voice, “I won’t just stop them. I’ll stop everyone I come across. I’m not going to kill or let you or your men kill and I need to be seen stopping both sides so rumors of favoritism don’t start spreading. That wouldn’t be good for either one of us.”

Red Hood nodded in understanding and smiled at the thought of them working together, even if his hands were tied in the process. He moved a step closer to her and leaned his head until he was just a few inches from her. “But I am right? Your favorite.”

Ladybug stared at him for a moment and opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed her mouth and looked back through the window. “Let’s get moving. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded with a grin as he followed her through the door, guns drawn. Ladybug eyed the guns and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah, non-fatal shots, I know.” Ladybug nodded and unhooked her yoyo, continuing down the steps.

<><><><><>

“What’ll you do now?” Ladybug asked after all the Penguin’s men had been piled up in a few vans and taken back to be dropped off without their phones or wallets a long way from Gotham.

Red Hood shrugged considerably more casually than he felt. He watched her from the corner of his eye, noting her hesitance and awkwardness. She was shuffling from foot to foot almost like she was hesitant to leave and he desperately wanted her to stay. He wanted to keep her next to him and make sure she was safe and protected, warm and smiling. But he didn’t have time today. Today, tonight, he had other priorities. “Check on my guys. Check on the families of the ones that fell. Figure out the mole. Move to a new base.”

Her face fell slightly, but she nodded. “Ah.”

Red Hood took off his helmet as he moved closer to her. He cupped her face. “You could help,” he suggested softly.

Ladybug leaned into his hand but gave him a bittersweet smile and shook her head. “Not going to help a crime boss.”

Red Hood sighed and removed his hand. He looked down and nodded. “Yeah, I understand. Thanks for not taking me in. I guess that’s the best I can get today.”

Ladybug nodded and looked away sadly. She gave him one last smile before she pulled out her yoyo. “Yeah. Night, Jason.” After a moment’s hesitation slung it out and swung into the night.

Red Hood nodded to her and watched as she swung away. His chest tightened as he watched her leave. It was getting hard to take a full breath and getting harder the further away she got. His eyes followed her until he couldn’t make her out against the city nightscape. “Night, Marinette,” he whispered to nobody.

Continued in Mine Protector

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #Jasonette Mine #prompt - Enemy Mine

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taeminyourmind · 4 years ago

Text

Music and Us x Taemin (M)

Genre - Fluff, Smut (protected sex), Strangers to Lovers

Synopsis - Brought together by music, you and Taemin begin a friendship that flourishes into a romance. After a year together, you tell Taemin that you’re ready, and he makes it his priority to make your first time gentle.

Words - 6.5k+

*Requested

Whitney Houston’s How Will I Know blasts through the store’s speakers while you straighten the crates of records. Closing time is lurking in the shadows to release you from your shift so you can enjoy the night.

Tonight was unusually warm, making people swarm the sidewalk and streets - groups of friends joke around while playfully pushing one another, people are drunkenly clinging to one another and slurring their words before laughing, people in their business attire loosened their buttons and ties as they navigate through the crowd. You love watching people walk by and sometimes wonder what their lives are like - Are they happy? Where are they going? Have they had their heart broken recently? Are they in love? But the one thing that keeps you on the night shift is the city’s lights that cast the buildings in neon hues. Something is addicting about its beauty.

Spinners is a record store that sits towards the edge of Myeondong shopping street. It's run by an older gentleman named Gio who wants to share his love of vinyl with Seoul. When you met him for an interview you were hired right away for the night shift so he could go home and be with his wife and toddler. Besides that, Gio is a private fellow whom you don’t know much more about. You’ve learned through the years that some things are meant to be unknown.

The song’s powerful vocals and perky 80s dance beat make a great combination that it’s impossible to not move along with its melody. The song’s composition engulfs your mind and transports you to the middle of a brightly colored dance floor, alone with only the music to keep you company. While you sway your body, mouthing the words to yourself, you fail to notice someone has entered the store.

“Encore!” A voice exclaimed when the song ends causing you to jump at the sudden noise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright. I’m just a little embarrassed, I was expecting anyone to be here. Did you need any help?”

There’s a height difference between you and the young man standing in front of you. His broad shoulders are the first things you see until your eyes travel up more to see his face. His black hair is parted down the middle with the bangs slightly covering his eyes, on his ears, his cross earring reflects the store’s lights.

“I’m here to pick up an order,” he answers with a smile.

The records that are resting in your arms are soon put down before you go behind the register. Taemin follows and stands on the other side, his eyes looking at the posters and signed memorabilia hanging on the walls.

“I love coming in here,” he says.

“Do you come here often?”

“At least twice a week. But I worked late, so I came tonight.”

“That explains why I don’t remember your face,” you smile and look behind you at the boxes of orders. “What’s your name?”

“Lee Taemin.”

“Lee Taemin,” you say repeatedly to yourself as your eyes scan the names in front of the packages. “Here it is.”

You grab the package and place it on the counter while you enter the information into the computer system. While the loading screen swirled, you take a few glances at Taemin who’s leaning against the counter on one elbow, his head turned to watch the people go by the window. The different colors of neon lights paint over his face to create a watercolor design. From the side, you can better see his features - he is a rare beauty.

The sound of a receipt printing snaps you out your trance and makes Taemin turn to look at you. A soft smile appears on his face when your eyes lock for a moment.

“Here’s your order,” you say.

When you look up, you see the boy lost in a trance. You wave your hand in front of his face but to no avail. It’s not until you snap your fingers that he breaks his trance.

“Something on your mind?” You ask while handing him his package that he tucks under his arm.

Taemin stays still for a moment before sliding a hand in his pocket and bringing out a small piece of yellow paper. He hands you the paper and your eyes skim over the words that talk about an upcoming show for artists and musicians.

“I’m going to perform some songs,” he says. “Some covers and some original work.”

“So, you’re a singer?” You inquire while leaning forward on the counter.

“Will you come?” His fingers brush against your hand to point at the details on the bottom of the paper.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you answer while avoiding eye contact.

“What’s your name?”

“___.”

“___,” he repeats with a smile. “You won’t regret it if you come.”

He turns on his heels and walks towards the door. When his back faces you, you look up and watch how his poised body moves - his head held and his broad shoulders swaying confidently. His dark backside contrasts with the bright neon lights that shine through the window. Your mind swirls as you look down at the paper in front of you - should you or should you not go? It’s been a while since you went out and had fun, and you decided it’s time you go out and enjoy yourself.

“I think I’ll be able to make it,” you call out to the boy.

Taemin stops with his hand on the door and turns to look at you.

“Alright, ___,” he smiles before winking. “I’ll see you then.”

Taemin pushes the door open and disappears into the crowd. You rush to the door to switch off the open sign and spot Taemin among the crowd, your eyes following him until he’s out of sight. You feel yourself breathe for the first time since he came into the store. Were you holding your breath the whole time? Or were you trying to control yourself from letting any feelings show through. You shake your head and switch the sign off.

“I just met him,” you say to yourself while locking the store’s door. “No way I caught feelings that fast.”

Taemin’s face continues to pop into your mind as you put things in place to close the store. Your eye catches the yellow paper resting on the counter when you shut down the computer. Placing it in your back pocket, you grab your bag and bike from the back and exit the store. The street is less busy as the night goes on making it easy to lock the doors and pull down the security gate. You thought the bike ride home would help you clear Taemin out your mind, but all that does is solidify him in your thoughts and make you wish for Wednesday to quickly come.

Each day seemed drawn-out as Wednesday approached. The hours seemed longer and you found yourself unable to get proper rest and wishing the day to quickly go by. When Wednesday finally came, its hours teased you as you watched the clock move at a glacial pace. You had gotten permission from Gio to close early, which also resulted in a tease about you having a crush.

The night sky blankets the city with its building beginning to display their colorful neon signs. The sidewalk begins to flood with characters of all ages as the sounds of night fill the air. You change into a green silk blouse, black leather pants, and a gold heel. You close the store for the night and find yourself flowing the flow of the crowd. There’s a feeling of excitement leaping around your chest as you are engulfed in the night scene. You stand at a crosswalk, waiting for the okay to walk, and look at HoneyB’s bright honeycomb sign.

HoneyB’s is a place where music and food lovers can come and indulge in these pleasures without judgment. They pride themselves in supplying homemade food and providing live entertainment from local talent. It’s a hot place to perform if you’re an up-and-coming artist because many music executives frequent there.

You walk through the honeycomb-shaped doors and are immediately greeted with the aroma of hotteok. The interior decoration was a combination of peach yellows and olive greens with gold accents relating to bees along the walls and tables and its floor was brown laminate wood flooring.

You take a seat in the back where you have a clear view of the presenter on stage. He’s wearing navy blue thick-framed glasses and a maroon suit with intricate gold accents and a black tie. He exudes charisma as he interacts with the audience and cracks a couple of jokes that make you chuckle. Each time he steps on stage to present the next artist you feel your stomach flip, hoping to hear Taemin’s name. And each time his name isn’t called, you feel a little disappointed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, the man you’ve all been waiting for,” the present zealously began. “Taemin!”

The sound of Taemin’s name piqued your attention. You raise your head and watch the lights dim as the room explodes in applause. Taemin seems to glide when he walks to take his place behind the microphone. A short sleeve fitted blue jumpsuit with black belts fastened around his waist drapes his body as one arm sports a black leather glove that goes up to his elbow. His hair is gelled back and his eyes are covered in a dark eyeshadow. The outfit complements his body and you scold yourself taking in his physique.

From the moment the music began to eerily play from the speakers, you are hypnotized by the way his body is fluidly moving with the rhythm and hits each beat. And then, he begins to sing in a sultry tone that takes over the music. He grips the microphone stand while his body moves provocatively against it as if it were a person. His moves mesmerize you and his voice captivates you. If nobody else in this world was born to do so, he was born to be a performer.

The audience erupts in applause and whistles when his set ends. The overwhelming support makes Taemin put his hand on his heart and smile bashfully. He collects the roses that are thrown on stage and bows before exiting.

“He’s amazing!”

“Do you think we can sign him?”

“I hear he only performs twice a month and for a lot of money. And if he’s pulling crowds like this, I understand why.”

So many people talk loudly to praise Taemin’s performance and make you feel proud to see how many enjoyed his performance. With Taemin as the last act, the house band begins playing jazz classics. Your body sways with the melody until a rose appears in front of your eyes. Your eyes follow the arm and see Taemin smiling warmly at you. You take the rose in your hands while he takes the seat beside you, placing the rest of the roses on the table.

“What’s this for?” You ask while smiling at the rose and then at him.

“For coming tonight.”

He scoots his chair closer to yours and turns his body so he faces you. He leans his elbow on the table and rests his cheek in his palm. His eyes study your face as you admire the rose in your hand.

“You did amazing,” you compliment. “You’re amazing.”

“Oh, no,” he humbly answers.

“Oh, c’mon,” you say while softly pushing him. “You can say you’re amazing. There’s nothing wrong with boasting a little.”

“Okay, I am kind of amazing.”

The two of you remain quiet and enjoy the next two selections from the band. Now and then someone will notice Taemin and congratulate him on his successful performance, and each time, Taemin humbly thanks them.

“Have you ever thought about going into the business,” you ask before the band starts their next selection.

“Think? I dream about it!” He exclaims. “I love performing. There’s nothing more I want to do than be on stage and entertain.”

His face lights up in his excitement. His eyes are wide and his hands move along with his words that are flying from his mouth. The passion he possesses for the stage is a rare thing to see these days; many people you know are miserable in their jobs and have long lost any motivation they had for their passions. Similarly, you feel the same about music and can find yourself excited to teach and recommend new music to others.

“In the meantime, I work at my mother’s bakery,” he says while resting back in his chair.

“Your mother owns a bakery?” You ask in surprise. He smiles at the change in your face and nods.

“She opened it a few years ago when she got laid off from a job she was miserable at. She took a chance and used much of her savings to build her dream and it’s growing despite a couple of rough patches in the beginning. Her ambition makes me want to work harder for my dream.”

Taemin’s eyes sparkle as he talks about his mother. You can see how important she is to him and how much he admires her. A part of you breaks at the thought of having a mother that deeply cares for and loves you. Maybe in another life, you will have a mother like that.

“Hey,” he whispers, his hand gently rubbing yours to get your attention. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” You nod, trying your best to smile.

Perhaps he can feel the shift in your emotion because he softly smiles at you and squeezes your hand. You’re thankful he doesn’t press forward and make you talk about the thoughts swirling in your mind. Squeezing his hand back, you stand to your feet with the rose resting one hand while the other reaches out to Taemin.

“Shall we?”

He looks at your hand for a moment before grabbing it and standing to his feet. The height difference between you seems greater than the first time you met; your head is at the same level as his chest making you crane your head to look up to him. Together, you walk out of the establishment and into the soft summer breeze that’s carrying a floral scent from the nearby tree.

“___,” he says. “Are you able to have lunch this Friday?”

“This Friday?” You look up and think for a second. “Sounds good. I’ll be at Spinners.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up after I leave work,” he says while bringing out a napkin from his back pocket and using a pole to write his number on it. “Here’s my number.”

He hands you the piece of paper before standing on the curb and hailing a taxi. It takes a minute before one pulls up to the curbside. Taemin opens the taxi door and turns to you. Before you can walk to the taxi, your body is met with a warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you. Hesitant at first, you allow yourself to relax and place your head against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He smells like a mixture of cologne and the hotteok from HoneyB’s. You feel him give you a soft squeeze and kiss the top of your head before letting go.

“Call me when you get home,” he whispers into your head and lets your body go.

“I will,” you smile before entering the taxi.

You wave to Taemin as the taxi begins its journey down the street. Your eyes stay focused on his figure until it gets lost in the crowd.

“Was that your boyfriend?” The older taxi driver asks when you turn around.

“Him? Oh, no. He’s just a friend.”

“I’ve had many friends in my life, and the only one that put a smile on my face like the one on yours was my wife.”

You relax your face when they point out your smile, realizing you haven’t stopped smiling since the hug. Your fingers caress the rose’s petals while you look out the window at the change of scenery. You live on the outskirts of the city even though you dream of living in its heart one day.

Entering your apartment, you immediately place the rose in a cup of water and dig in your pocket to find Taemin’s number. For a second, you hesitate before calling. Each ring makes your heart pound faster as you begin to think that perhaps he was pulling your leg and gave you a fake number.

“Hello?” A voice finally answers.

“I told you I would call when I made it home,” you say, trying to hide the smile in your voice.

“I’m glad you made it safely,” Taemin says softly. “Good night, ___.”

“Good night, Taemin,” you whisper as you lay in bed and look out the window at the stars pulsating in the night sky. “I’ll see you Friday.”

Friday - 1 p.m.

The record store is empty aside for you and Gio who are placing the newly released records in a bin by the front door. Cheap Trick’s mellow When You Need Someone plays through the speakers causing you to sway with the melody and hum the words. You are so deep in the song’s rhythm that you don’t hear Gio talking to you.

“Earth to ___,” Gio says, giving you a light push to bring you back.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were going on lunch break soon.”

“Oh yeah, I am! I’m just waiting on Tae -”

You stop yourself from saying Taemin’s name, making Gio raise one eyebrow. He watches you turn your back to him and make busy by straightening records that were already straightened. Walking beside you, he bumps your shoulder.

“This is the same guy you went to see the other night?”

A sigh falls off your lips. You nod your head and try your best not to look at Gio who has his eyebrows raised in excitement.

“___, if you have a crush on him, then say so!”

“I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Who are you trying to convince, me or yourself? Look,” Gio turns you to look at him with a fatherly look. “There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on someone you just met. Don’t go your whole life not knowing what it is to love and be loved.”

“I love music and you love me,” you protest.

“I’m talking about love in the romantic sense. Music isn’t going to love you back and of course, I love you, you’re like a daughter to me.”

You open your mouth to speak but close it when someone taps on the store’s window. You and Gio turn and see Taemin smiling and pointing to his watch. You smile and wave at the boy and give the rest of your record crate to Gio.

“Not a word,” you warn before grabbing your jacket and walking out the door.

Taemin is wearing a distressed light wash denim jacket and matching jeans, an 80s inspired white tee, and red converse. He has an apple hairstyle with the ponytail pulling his bangs out his face. Seeing you come out of the store, he immediately walks to you and wraps his arms around you. You take in his scent and melt at the smell of fruit-filled pastries lingering on his clothes.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving, I haven’t eaten all morning.”

“Why?” He asks and pulls away. His face contorts in confusion while he grabs your shoulders.

“I’m not really hungry in the morning,” you shrug.

Taemin’s eyes travel over your face and release his grip. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he pulls you to walk with him down the sidewalk. He holds you close as the sidewalk crowds with people rushing for lunch. The feeling of being held close to his body makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. You try to get rid of the feeling by thinking that he is just overly friendly and shows his care and love through touches.

“You just met him,” you think to yourself. “You can’t fall for someone you just met.”

The diner Taemin decided to take you to is only a 15-minute walk from Spinners, but it wouldn’t seem as bad if it wasn’t for the crowds and waiting at crosswalks. The clouds provide shade from the scorching sun making the walk pleasant overall. The blue painted brick and mortar building stands alone with small tables placed outside. From your view, the place isn’t too crowded but is plenty busy. The smell of freshly made waffles tickles your nose and triggers your stomach to grumble. You place your hand over it in an attempt to quiet its noise, but you fear Taemin has already heard it by the suppressed smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says to the hostess posted behind a stand. “I made reservations under Lee Taemin.”

The hostess looks at a sheet of paper before grabbing two menus from the shelf behind her.

“Follow me,” she smiles and begins walking to the back of the building.

Taemin’s arm falls from your shoulders and takes your hand in his. His thumb caresses the top of your hand as you keep up with the hostess who’s speed walking to your table. He stops at the door the hostess walked through and turns to wink at you. A confused expression spreads across your face until he walks in front of you and helps you cross the threshold.

You bring your other hand to shield your eyes from the sun and are amazed at what is in front of you. A small man-made pond sits in the middle of the small space with beautifully planted flowers and bushes surrounding it, small vintage tables and chairs of different pastel colors are placed around the area, and a white wooden fence encloses the space. Taemin smiles at your reaction and guides you to a pink table located under the shade of a tree that is decorated in white blossoms.

“Enjoy your meal,” the hostess says before retreating inside.

You and Taemin sit across from each other in a booth next to a large window. Plants and small trinkets line the windowsill while large pink bubbly letters reading “Sweety’s”. His eyes dart back and forth on the menu.

“How did you find out about this place?”

“My father used to take me here every Friday after dance lessons,” Taemin says, smiling at the sweet memories playing in his mind. “This place became our little secret, not even my mother knew about it.”

“But I know about it.”

Taemin shrugs and leans back in his seat. “I only bring special people here.”

“And how many special people have you brought here?” You inquire, raising your eyebrows slightly.

Taemin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. The corner of his mouth tugs upward as he smirks at you. The closeness of his face makes you lean back a little, your emotions feeling tangled as his warm eyes stare into yours.

“Only one,” he replies. The faint scent of spearmint lingers on his breath “and I think she’s pretty special.”

You try to conceal the smile growing on your face as you watch Taemin lean back. Throughout lunch, you allow the smile you once tried to conceal to show as you and Taemin exchange stories from your youth. The thought of lunch coming to an end makes you want to remember his face, his words, and his voice until he suggests you have lunch at Sweety’s every Friday afternoon. You eagerly agree to his suggestion, finding yourself excited for the times you can be in his presence.

For the next few months, Taemin takes you to Sweety’s every Friday afternoon and surprises you by returning to Spinners to escort you home. Between the Friday lunches, long walks home that consist of meaningful conversations, and phone calls that go until late at night, you find yourself feeling more attached to Taemin. He’s someone you can trust, someone who comforts you, someone who you don’t want to be without. To describe the feeling Taemin gives you with just his soft stare would be similar to being filled with so much love that it overflows.

This Friday starts as usual - you go to work, have lunch with Taemin, and he escorts you home after your shift. But at lunch, Taemin invites you to stop by his mother’s bakery after closing hours. When you arrive at the quaint store, you can see Taemin is vigorously cleaning the countertops through the storefront window, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His head immediately turns in your direction when you gently tap on the window. A smile grows on his face as he, almost skipping, quickly goes to the door to allow you in. Before stepping in, you’re met with the sweet scent of fresh cinnamon raisin bread and a warm embrace.

“How was the rest of your day?” Taemin whispers. He takes your hand and leads you to a round table along the back wall.

“Busy as usual, but why are we at your job?” You ask while having a seat.

“I thought you might enjoy a sweet treat,” he winks before disappearing into the kitchen area behind a set of double doors.

The bakery is dimly lit with the air sweetly scented with pastries and freshly brewed coffee. The marble floors reflect the lowlights, causing an illusion of sparkles to glimmer throughout the area. The faint words and rhythm of a song playing overhead make you sway along with the song.

“What song is playing?” You ask when Taemin returns with a tray in his hands.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says softly while placing the tray on a table nearby. “But it’s my demo. I’ll get you a copy.”

“Autographed?”

“Of course,” he winks before placing a small plate in front of you. “And I now present you with an arlette ice cream sandwich, all made by yours truly.”

Taemin rests his chin in his palm while you melt at the fresh and sweet flavors exploding on your tongue. He chuckles lightly and reaches over to wipe away some ice cream that smeared on the corner of your mouth. His thumb lingers against your face, gently stroking your cheek and watching you with gentle eyes.

“There’s something I wanted to say to you,” he says before pulling back, his face tightening as he straightens his posture. “But I don’t know how to say it.”

You slowly lower the treat from your mouth and focus your attention on Taemin. He fidgets in his seat as his eyes dart back and forth overhead, like the words he wants to say will magically appear.

“I’m afraid,” he says low. “I love our friendship. I love how we can confide in one another, I love how we trust one another, I love how we can have different opinions, and I love the way I feel when I’m with you. And I tried to convince myself that it was just an infatuation, but you’re always on my mind. I think about you more than anything, I think about your voice, your smile, the way you longingly gaze at me, and I love the way you call my name and how it echoes in my head. But I’m afraid of losing our friendship.”

“Why would you be afraid?” You ask with tears brimming your eyes. To see Taemin on the brink of tears while confessing to you makes you want to leap up and hold him in your arms. Instead, you try to suppress your tears until you no longer can. A few fall on the tabletop when you reach across the table and lay your hand on top of his and squeeze it gently, encouraging him to continue.

“I love you, ___. And I don’t want to lose our friendship or have you slip away from me, because I love you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same,” he whispers the last sentence while his thumb softly strokes the top of your hand. “I just need to hear you say something.”

Taemin’s head hangs when you retract your hand from his grip. You hurry to his side and kneel beside him and gently direct him to look at you before gently pressing your lips against his. His hands tenderly cup the sides of your face as he presses into the kiss, his lips slowly moving against yours. Your forehead presses against his as you slowly pull away.

“What took you so long to tell me?” You ask while flashing a wide smile, your hands holding onto his wrists.

“Then I guess I know the answer if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He smiles eagerly, ready to bounce out his seat as he awaits your answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Taemin.”

It’s been a year since Taemin asked you to be his girlfriend. To say love is a rollercoaster of emotions is an understatement, a generalization of what it truly feels like to feel the high and the lows. There’s something wonderful about being able to run to each other’s arms when things don’t go well, when insecurities taunt you, and even after arguments you find the strength to get through it together. He’s become the one person you can trust, besides Gio, and the only person you’ve felt this strongly about.

You find yourself wrapped in Taemin that you notice the change in how you act and think about him. You find yourself passionately kissing him like you’re breathing life in his lungs and find him in your fantasies. You think it’s just a phase until he enters your dreams and you look at his hands and wish they were touching your skin.

He finds your stares impassioning and he can feel his stomach knot each time his eyes meet yours. Whenever your lips passionately collide with his, he feels the world stop around him. And he wants nothing more than to hold you close and have his fingers caress your body. When you confided in him that you will let him know when you are ready, he’s done his best to not pressure you or even hint at it. But tonight, you were ready.

You stand in front of the mirror, tying a robe around your naked body. Your stomach is swarmed with butterflies the more you think about Taemin waiting outside the door. This is it, you think while giving yourself a smile of encouragement in the mirror. With a deep breath, you place your hand on the handle and open the door.

The room is dim and painted in a warm hue as the candles flicker on the dresser and nightstand, creating shadows on the walls. Taemin’s back faces you while the candles cast shadows in the dips where his muscles are. Hearing the door open, he slowly turns around with a soft smile.

“Hi beautiful,” he whispers while walking towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous you become. When you glance at the floor, he gently lifts your head. “It’s okay. I got you.”

Taemin closes space between you with a deep kiss, your lips hungrily moving against one another. His hands quickly untie your robe and slide it off your body. Before you can cover yourself with your arms, his hands rest on your waist, squeezing it gently. Your palms press against his chest as he pulls your body to his.

Swiftly, Taemin drops his hands to the back of your thighs. His fingers grip them as he hoists you up and carries you to the bed, placing you on the cool, satin sheets. His lips stay against yours as he positions himself on top of you. His hand slowly snakes up the side of your body until it cups your breast. You sigh sensually when his fingertips gently squeeze your aroused nipple.

He slowly pulls his lips away from yours, his teeth lightly biting your bottom lip as he does so. His luscious lips place tender, wet kisses from your neck to the sensitive area between your inner thighs, making you squirm as butterflies tickle your stomach. His eyes are laced in seduction, watching you squirm under his touch.

Taemin spreads your legs and softly kisses your lips. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue part your lips and brush against your clit. You suck in air through clenched teeth at the brief moment of pleasure. Before you can recover, Taemin’s tongue circles and teases your entrance while his thumb rubs against your clit. The overwhelming dual sensation makes you reach down and grip his hair with your hand while the other grips the sheet. Your breaths shudder as you try to suppress any moans begging to escape.

You let out a small whimper when the pleasure ends and sit up on your elbows to see him more. You watch as his fingers glide up and down your folds, spreading your wetness. Your body shudders and you choke on a small moan whenever his fingers pass over your clit. Two of his fingers slowly begin to push into your entrance until you reach down and grip his wrist.

“Are you okay?” He softly asks, worried when he sees the nervousness on your face. “We can stop if you want.”

You’re quiet for a second until you let go of his wrist and smile gently at him. “I’m okay, just nervous.”

Taemin’s face softens as he reassures you. When you’re ready, he slowly enters the middle finger and then the ring finger. Their presence in you makes you shift as you grow accustomed to them. He slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. The slight uncomfortableness on your face changes to pleasure as your eyebrows furrow while you moan under your breath. He notices the way your chest rises and falls quickly with the pace of fingers.

When your walls grip around his fingers, Taemin slides his free hand down his sweatpants and grip his member, jacking himself off to the pace of his fingers. He bites his bottom lip as he imagines your bodies grinding against each other. He groans at the sound of your wetness stirring in the air.

A ball of warmth heats your core when Taemin’s fingers curl in angles. Once you were afraid to let out a moan, now you can’t do anything but moan at the waves of pleasure continuously crashing into you. Your hips grind a little onto his fingers, desperate to allow him to go deeper.

You whimper when he abruptly retracts his fingers. You watch as they glisten against the light, drenched in your wetness. Your fingers unconsciously grip the sheets when he locks eyes with you, pushing them past his lips before licking them clean. You follow his hands as he slowly slides off his pants, revealing his erect cock. It twitches when his eyes look over your body. Reaching over to the nightstand, he opens a condom and places it over his member.

Taemin grips your thighs, pulling you closer to his body. He gently lowers himself on top of you, his chest pressing against yours so you can feel his pounding heartbeat. Moving slightly, he positions himself at your entrance.

“Are you ready?” He asks softly.

When you nod, he places a kiss on your forehead while slowly pushing his cock through your entrance. Your eyebrows furrow in discomfort as you grip onto his upper arms. Soft praises flood from Taemin’s lips until he is fully inside you. He stays still for a while to allow you to adjust before slowly rocking in and out of you. The light kisses he places over your eyes, nose, and lips tickles, allowing you to get your mind off of the unusual pressure for a moment. Your nose scrunches as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Gradually, the feeling of discomfort subsides and transforms into pleasure. The feeling of him rubbing against your walls makes you close your eyes and softly moan his name. Your sultry tone when moaning his name becomes his motivation as his rocks become faster and his lips caress your jawline. You hold onto the back of his head and allow yourself to repeatedly call out his name.

Taemin sits up and grabs your hips, holding them in place as he pulls back before snapping back into you, making your breasts bounce each time. The unexpected harshness makes you choke on a moan each time his tip rubs against your sweet spot. His face flushes as he quickens his pace, his bangs sticking to the sweat on his forehead. He groans your name loudly before pulling out of you.

With a few swift movements, he flips you on your stomach and guides you up so your back is against his chest and legs are apart. His strong arm holds you tight while the other holds his cock, rubbing it along your folds before positioning it to your entrance and thrusting it in.

You sigh together as he enters you. You look far enough to the side for Taemin to press his lips but accidentally bump your forehead against his. You both softly laugh at the mistake before he catches your lips on his while he slowly grinds into you. He, once again, whispers praises and encouragement against your lips. One hand plays with one breast as the other descends to your clit and quickly rubs it, making you loudly moan against his lips. You feel him smirk when you beg him to go faster, and he obliges.

A knot forms in your core causing you to pull away from the kiss and rest your forehead against his jaw. You begin to whimper at the sensation and find yourself trying to pull away from his body, but he holds you tighter.

“It’s okay,” he struggles to say through a moan. “Just relax.”

Your small whimpers turn into a pleasurable scream of his name as you throw your head back, allowing your body to let go. Your body twitches in his arms as the wave crashes into you and leaves you. The euphoric relief that settles over you makes you softly smile. But the smile is short-lived when Taemin holds you tightly and thrusts into you quickly, chasing after his end.

The sound of your skin slapping against each other bounces off the walls as your intimate shadows move along them. Taemin’s breathing becomes hitched as his thrusts become arrhythmic. Whines of your name drip from his tongue as he inches closer to his end. Finally, when he reaches his gratification. He squeezes your body tight and cums into the condom, his hips thrusting forward with each spurt.

For a few moments, Taemin keeps you close, his heavy breathing tickling the side of your neck. Gently, he pulls out of you and guides you to lay on your back. He sits beside you, his eyes looking over your face as his fingertips gently stroke the side of your face.

“You did so well,” he whispers with a gentle smile. “Are you okay?”

You smile bashfully and cover your face before nodding. His soft chuckle makes you feel warm as he removes your hands from your face and gazes into your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#taemin smut #kpop smut #shinee smut #taemin scenarios #kpop scenarios #shinee scenarios #taemin fanfic #kpop fanfic #shinee fanfic

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babeyvenus · 3 years ago

Text

The Wolf Among Us

Bigby x OC

Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.

TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, smoking, drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.

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Chapter 16: The Big Bad Wolf

“Shit.”, Georgie groans, holding his stomach and stumbling as Vivian helps him in the back of the car. “I know. I know.”, Vivian reassured him, avoiding the sight of his wound. She sees Sonya and Bigby running out of the portal, looking around frantically.

She hurriedly runs to the driver’s seat and starts the car, catching Bigby’s attention. He ran to the car, grabbed the bumper of the car before it could move.

Holding tight on the bumper, he changes into his second form. Sonya watched in surprise as he lifted the car but the car separated from the bumper and took off.

“Dammit…”, she muttered. He rumbled at her, catching her attention as he kneels in front of her. “What?”, she asked. He gestured for her to get on his back.

Her eyes widened. “B-But-”, she started but he gave her a low growl. “Okay, okay!”, she rushed onto his back, and he ran off with her.

The getaway car drives into traffic, making a few cars stop and swirve. Bigby charges in between two city buses that started to get closer to each other. “We’re not making that!”, Sonya yelled.

Bigby runs on all fours, charging through the shrinking gap, effortlessly. She sighed in relief and held onto him tighter as he turned the corner and dodged the increasing traffic.

He jumps up on top of a truck, jumps on another truck then on top of a city bus and runs across the roof of a building until they have a full view of the street.

Bigby stops and scans the street, growling at the sight of multiple cars moving. “Let’s move up.”, she said. He saw a building and charged into the door. Immediately, people screamed at the sight of a huge gray figure rushing through the halls and out of the building to the roof.

Bigby looked over the streets and saw a car driving crazy and growled, following the car. Sonya’s eyes widened as he jumped onto a highway bridge, rushing to the edge. “Bigby, we gotta go!”, she exclaimed, seeing cars honk and swerve away from them.

He takes a few steps back then runs and jumps in the air, landing on the car, making it swerve a bit.

Sonya noticed a familiar limo and frowned seeing the Crooked Man look at her and roll his window up. She huffed, carefully climbing off of Bigby’s back and heats up her hand to burn a hole in the roof of the car.

Bigby slammed his fist, clawing into the roof. Vivian violently swerves the car, making them unsteady. Sonya nearly fell back but Bigby grabbed her with one hand, keeping his other claw into the roof of the car.

Vivian stomped on the brakes, sending them off of the car. Bigby wrapped his arms around her to soften her fall as they rolled on the road. She sighed, getting up and helped him up.

They turn to an alleyway where Vivian makes a U-turn toward them. “Gun it.”, Georgie orders Vivian. “Are you sure?”, she asked him. “Just do it!”, Georgie shouts hurriedly. Vivian slams down on the gas pedal but Bigby and Sonya don’t move.

“They’re not moving.”, Vivian warns Georgie.

The car came speeding down the alleyway and just before the car could hit them, Bigby grabs Sonya and jumps onto a fire escape, climbing his way up on the building to the roof.

He walks on the rooftop, keeping her held close as he jumps onto more rooftops that led to the Pudding ‘n Pie.

They see Vivian leading a bleeding Georgie into the building. Bigby sets Sonya down, and looks around, seeing a white shirt, pants and a tie hanging off a clothing line.

She turns away, waiting for him to get dressed and once he's finished, he leads her to the building.

They see a large trail of blood from the car to the door of the club. “Holy shit…”, Bigby muttered as he looked inside of the car, the metallic smell entering his nose.

"You did stab him good.", she said, giving him a raised eyebrow. They walk inside, following the trail.

“Come on! We can’t stay here.”, they hear Vivian's voice. “Hang on. I need a minute.”, Georgie groans. His eyes widened to see Sonya and Bigby walk toward him and Vivian. “Shit.”, Georgie groaned, sitting on a couch.

“Hello, you two.” He said. “I hoped you two would come to your senses…” then he slowly stands up and walks towards them. “Crooked Man’s the one you two want. But of course, you two are too stupid to see that. Or maybe you guys just like me too much to let me go.”

“We’re taking you in, Georgie. Let’s go.”, Bigby tells him. Georgie leans against a railing and groans. “You gonna carry me?”, he joked.

Vivian steps in front of Georgie and pleads. “Please, Sheriff and Deputy. Haven’t you two done enough? Look at him! He’s dying!"

"Vivian! You don’t know what you’re doin’.”, Georgie groans. “I’m trying to help you here!”, Vivian yelled.

“You can’t seriously want to protect this guy. You know what he did.”, Sonya said. Vivian looked down at the floor. She, then, looks back up at Sonya. “I’m not going anywhere. It isn’t his fault!”

“He’s a murderer!”, Bigby exclaimed. “Faith and Lily? He’s the reason they’re dead!”

“Look, I know he made a few mistakes. We all have.”, Vivian replied. “What?”, Georgie asked.

“He made sure they couldn’t talk with those damn ribbons, and then he killed them! You’re wearing one yourself!”, Sonya exclaimed, pointing at Vivian's neck. “Doesn’t that bother you even a little? Knowing that man murdered–”

“Of course it does!”, Vivian shouts. “Those girls, they’re like—”

“So it’s all my fuckin’ fault then? You fucking-”, Georgie winces.

“I didn’t mean–”

“You’re gonna throw me to the fucking wolf too! You know I didn’t have a damn choice! What the fuck!?”, he yelled. He looks at all of them. “I did what I had to! Sometimes you have to just do what you’re told. Then it comes back to bite you in the ass because some good-for-nothin’ Crooked bastard decides you’re not worth shit anymore!”

“You didn’t have to do anything.”, Sonya growled.

“Like hell I didn't! Look, Faith and the others tried to pull a runner on us, and as you can imagine the Crooked Man wasn’t too thrilled. But of course the big boss didn’t want to get his fuckin’ hands dirty….", he winces.

"So he told me to take care of it! You think I don’t know what that means? Either I do what he says or I’m the one getting dealt with! So I fuckin’ killed 'em! And I’d do it again! Cause it’s not my fault! The Crooked Man gave the order! He told me to kill them! And then he fuckin’ sold me out!” Georgie yelled, angrily.

“You’re still the one who pulled the trigger! Nobody held your hand and made you go through with it.”, Bigby said, shaking his head.

“Fine! Believe what you want.”, Georgie groans. “I can tell you two have made up your minds. Doesn’t matter if it’s fuckin’ true or not!”

Bigby walks up to him, fuming. “Go ahead and arrest me then! But it won’t bring back Lily and Faith! It won’t free your friend Nerissa! And I’m just the sap takin’ the fall for the whole thing!”, Georgie said, making Sonya frown deeper.

“It must be so easy being you! Just come in here and blame me for all this shit! Job’s done, right? Georgie’s the bad guy! It’s all his fucking fault!”, Georgie rambles and starts to give up. “But what was I supposed to do?”

“You could’ve done literally anything else. You could’ve let them go! You could’ve freed Faith and Lily from those fucking ribbons instead of murdering them!”, Sonya said.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about! If I freed them–”, Georgie's eyes widened in realization as he looked at Vivian. He pointed at her. “What would you have me do? Kill her?”

“Georgie, don’t.”, Vivian pleaded, turning to him.

“It was them or Vivian! So you tell me! If freeing Lily meant she had to die, do you still think I had a fucking choice?”, Georgie asked angrily.

“Wait. How is she involved in all this?”, Bigby asked him.

“This is the original.” Georgie said, placing his hand on Vivian’s shoulder. “

I’m sure you two have heard the stories. Couldn’t take it off, couldn’t talk about it. She used her little purple ribbon to make more of 'em. To keep our girls quiet. To ensure our discretion.”

“You promised you wouldn’t…”, Vivian whimpered, turning away. “All that magic is connected to this little thing.”, Georgie said as he pointed to her ribbon.

“You remove hers….and the spell’s broken. They’re all free! But you know what happens to her? The same thing that happened to Faith. So don’t you come in here and tell me I fucked up!”, Georgie exclaimed.

“What the hell, Georgie?”, Vivian yelled in anger as she brushed Georgie’s hand off of her shoulder. “We were supposed to look out for each other! I trusted you!”

“You can’t fuckin’ blame me. You’re not innocent here either!”, Georgie growled at her.

“I know that! But did it have to be like this?”, Vivian cries.

“Wait, those were your ribbons? You’re in on this? I thought you cared about them!”, Bigby said to Vivian.

“I do! Of course I do! You have to understand. Nobody was supposed to die. When we built this place…it was just a stupid idea….a gimmick. That’s how it started anyway. This was supposed to be our place. We were gonna be in charge for once, and nobody would try to control us, or use us….that was the point. Then the Crooked Man showed up and everything just turned to shit.”, Vivian explained.

“So do you two get it now? Why I couldn’t just–", he closed his eyes before glaring at them. "If you still think it’s so fucking simple then you do it! Go right ahead! Kill her then!”, Georgie yelled.

“What are you doing!?”, Vivian asked, her eyes widened at Georgie.

“Break the spell! Save the fuckin’ day!”, Georgie shouts.

“Stop it!”, Vivian screams as she backs away in fear.

“I told you….sometimes all your options are shit. What the fuck are you supposed to do then?”, Georgie asked.

“We’ll find another way, she–she doesn’t have to die. Maybe the witches can–”, Sonya tried to say but Vivian interrupts her. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not even here. Please.”

She walks towards Georgie. “You think this is hard for you? My life is such a fucking burden on your conscience! Don’t I get a say? It’s my life!”

“Of course. It’s your life….”, Sonya said, walking up to her.

“I know what I’ve done.” Vivian said as she placed her hand on her ribbon, making Sonya stop. "H-Hold on-", Sonya says, feeling wary.

“Wait…”, Georgie said, frantically.

“I’m sick of everyone thinking they can just do what they want with my life. I thought it would be different here. But it’s all the fucking same.”, she said, pacing in front of them. “Vivian. I didn’t mean–”, Georgie started, feeling bad.

“Do you think I wanted to be this person?”, she turned to Georgie. “What I did to Faith and Lily…to all of them…”

“Vivian….wait….I–"

"Every day I have to look Gwen and Hans in the eye and pretend I don’t care. I have to forget what I’ve done to them. What I took away from them. I look at Nerissa and I hate myself.”, Vivian says.

“Vivian…”, Georgie warns.

“I can’t pretend anymore.”, Vivian said as gripping her ribbon. “Stop!", Sonya yelled. "What are you doing!?”, Bigby asked in fear.

“Vivian! Don’t!”, Georgie shouts as he tries to run towards her but his wound makes him double over and holds his stomach.

“Goodbye, Georgie.”, Vivian whispers as she removes her ribbon. Her head falls off of her shoulders as her body falls over. Sonya whimpers, covering her mouth.

“No! Fuck! No, no, no, no, no!”, Georgie exclaims while Bigby stood there in shock. Georgie crawls over to Vivian’s body, his hand hovering over her body. “Why’d you have to do that, Vivian?”

“Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?”, Bigby roared at Georgie in anger.

Georgie shook his head in tears. “Vivian….I didn’t fuckin’ mean it. I was just—” He suddenly shouts in pain, sliding down next to her and leaned against the cigarette machine.

He lets out a shaky breath, then grabs her ribbon and places it in Vivian’s hand and holds it.

Sonya lets out a breath of her own. She couldn't believe what she saw. Seeing Faith and Lily's heads weren't all that easy to deal with. But to see how it actually worked...and to know that Nerissa is the only one they know that also has a ribbon…

She shook her head from the thought. Bigby steps in front of Georgie. “Get up.”, he orders. Georgie doesn’t move. “Get up!”, Bigby yelled again.

“Don’t think so, Bigby.”, Georgie said, moving his hand away from his stomach. Sonya felt bile rising in her throat as she saw some of his intestines poking out.

“I’m gonna die here. I think we all know that. Just make sure you two give the Crooked Man the same treatment when you two find him. Really fuck him up for me, alright?", Georgie begged, looking at them.

"Don’t worry. He’ll get a lot worse.”, Bigby reassured Georgie. “Good.”, Georgie said, nodding. “Old foundry by the river, alright? Sheppard Metalworks. He’ll be there…the fucking asshole. You wanna finish me off now? Or do you plan to kick me around a little first?"

"That’s not who I am.”, Bigby says. “Prove it, then.” Georgie said, coughing. “No more games, alright? We know how this ends.” Georgie coughed. “Just be quick.”

Sonya's eyes widened as Bigby’s features turned wolfish again. “All right, Georgie.”, Bigby rumbles as he kneels down, and shoves his clawed hand in Georgie’s wound. Georgie screams in pain, struggling as Bigby pulls out his intestines. Sonya looked away, finally hearing the ends of Georgie's screams.

Bigby turned her away from the scene, and turned off the lights, leading her out of the club. She frowned, giving him a determined look. “Let’s go get that Crooked bastard.”

He nodded, returning the look and headed off to the warehouse with her.

Sheppard Metalworks Late Night

Arriving at the Foundry, Bigby walks up to the front of the limo and places his hand on the hood. “Still warm….”, he mutters. “He’s here alright.” Sonya walked up to the door, jiggling the handle. “Dammit… locked.”

“Lemme see.”, he says, as Sonya moves out of the way. He grabs the handle, pushing it down and slams his shoulder into the door, busting it open. He rubbed at his shoulder and looked around.

They saw packages on the left side of the warehouse and the Crooked Man’s brand. “So this is where they’ve been sending these…”, Sonya muttered.

Bigby looks over at them and takes her away, moving her to a door at the end of the hall. A light comes on as they approach and he opens the door. They walk in and look around, seeing some machinery moving around and entering melted metal in one of the boilers.

“Bigby Wolf!”, they hear Bloody Mary’s voice echo. They noticed an open doorway and walked inside. “The Big Bad Wolf.”, she whispers. They look around to see open boxes and cabinets. Sonya notices a bulletin board with pictures on it.

“You used to be something.”, Mary taunts, as Sonya and Bigby look at the board. They saw seven pictures pinned to the board. Two of them had her and Bigby talking in different locations, two other pictures had her, Bigby and Faith talking, another one was of Nerissa, Lily and Faith.

The next one was of Snow, Sonya and Holly walking in the Woodlands. The very last picture was of Nerissa and Faith and they looked like they were arguing.

The thought of someone following her around taking pictures made her shudder. “They used to fear you.”, Mary whispered as they left the room and walked across the little bridge that led to the other side of the factory.

“They’d hide somewhere their shivering bodies would fit.”, Mary said as they walked through a room and saw a workbench inside where there was a mold for bullets and a couple of silver bullets. “Silver?”, Bigby said, as Sonya picked one up.

She frowned and set it down. “The Big Bad Wolf.”, Mary’s voice whispers in their ears, making them jump and turn around. They don’t see anything or anyone.

Suddenly, the back of Sonya’s knee gets kicked in. As she turns around, Bloody Mary backhands her and punches Bigby in the face. Sonya wobbly gets up, as well as Bigby.

Bloody Mary watches in amusement. “It’s about time you two showed up.”, Mary said as she walked past Bigby. “We had to take care of some things first.”. Bigby said, rubbing his jaw as he pulled Sonya up.

“Little errand boy and girl. That’s nice.”, Mary smirks. The Crooked Man creeps around the corner, facing the three. “Ah, Bigby and Miss Sonya. I see you’ve made it here in one piece. I do apologize, but I have some business to attend to. I leave you two in the capable hands of my associate. Come find me when you’re finished, dear.”

“Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”, Mary said, turning to them.. “Get the hell out of our way. Now! Don’t make this worse.”, Sonya growled. “Aww, they don’t want to play.”, Mary told the Crooked Man. “I’m sure you’ll persuade them.”, Crooked Man said, escaping.

“Cut this shit out!”, Bigby growls at Mary. Mary tsks at him. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners? Or was she too busy fucking whatever breeze drifted through town?”

Bigby snarls at her, raising a fist to punch her but she ducks. “Oh, come on.”, she said and she kicked him in the stomach. “Is that the best you can do?” She turned around to meet Sonya's fist.

She scoffed with a smile, rubbing her jaw. Mary shoves Sonya away and disappears. Bigby growled and changed into his first form. They run out the door and into the factory. They looked around in the dimly lit area and saw nothing. Sonya turned her back to Bigby, noticing a figure rushing past her.

"The fuck…", she squinted to look closely but couldn't see anything. "C'mon.", Bigby said leading her to a ladder nearby. Bigby climbs up the ladder with Sonya following him close by. The two look around, carefully walking along the bridge.

Sonya looked around intently, her eyes glowing an orange color. She shivered a bit, hearing a heavy gravelly breathing around their area. Bigby looked over his shoulder to check on Sonya. She nods, keeping close to him as they continue moving.

Sonya yelps at the feeling of something cutting her cheek. Bigby's eyes widened, looking at her and growled loudly, looking around frantically. "Let's go.", she says, now keeping her back towards him, watching his six.

They moved just a bit more, only to get attacked repeatedly with cuts. They kept their arms up in a defensive stance to protect themselves until they got on top of the boiler.

“Where are you? Come out and face us!”, Bigby roars in anger.

Sonya looked around to hear the breathing get closer. Her eyes widened as her heart dropped at the sight of Mary in her true form. A sight that definitely frightened kids and teenagers as they called her through their mirrors.

Her eyes were completely red, blood dripping down her face. Unfamiliar symbols brightened and dimmed as she made a noise with her breathing.

She had shards of glass sticking out of her body as if she ran into a window. Her nails were also practically glass and every step she took towards them sounded like she, herself, were stepping on pieces of glass.

Bigby throws a punch at her and she ducks, slicing at his side. Sonya does the same but receives the same treatment.

Bigby charged at her but she jumped up onto a platform above of the boiler and grabbed a pole to smack Bigby upside the head with. She swings the pole at Sonya but Sonya grabs it, struggling to tug it away from Mary.

Mary pushes the pole into Sonya's chest, knocking her off the bridge on and onto the floor below. Sonya wheezes, trying to get up quickly and catches her breath.

Bigby relaxes a bit to see her get up and turns to face Mary but Mary jumps on his back. He struggles and tries to knock Mary off of him, choosing to fall off the bridge and land next to Sonya.

Her eyes widened to see him transform into his second form which caused her to transform into her first form now that they had more room to fight.

Sonya takes out her chain, engulfing it in flames. Bigby growls as Bloody Mary stalks over to them but he stops once he notices another Mary from the corner of his eye.

They back into each other, seeing duplicates of Mary's surrounding them. "Well, shit.", Sonya muttered.

One duplicate creeps up to Bigby, making him smack her to the side. Another one walks up to Sonya, making her whip her chain at the duplicate and shattered it. "Huh…"

Another duplicate tries to kick Bigby but he ducks, making Sonya punch the duplicate into pieces. Another Mary stabs Bigby’s side with her glass claws and more surround the two, making Sonya either blast them with fire or swing her chain at them.

Bigby smacks Mary’s claws out of him and picks her up and slams her down. Another Mary jumps at Sonya and she sliced at her arm. Sonya retaliates with a blast, and gets tackled by another one. Bigby looks around and drops Mary as another one cuts at his back.

Suddenly, multiple Mary's toppled them, most of them took Bigby down and started slicing at him while just a few either burned or attacked Sonya as best as they could.

Sonya engulfed herself in fire, burning and throwing the duplicates back. She pants heavily as her eyesight blurs from using her powers so much. Another duplicate appeared behind her but was smacked away by a large paw.

Sonya looked behind her to see an 8 foot tall black wolf. He had a duplicate in his mouth, swinging it around like a ragdoll before he bites down on her and she breaks apart like a glass statue. "Holy...", Sonya mutters in astonishment as he smacks the other duplicates away from her.

She snaps out of her surprise and wraps her chains around a duplicate and thrashes it around and swings it at other duplicates, shattering them.

Another duplicate jumps on his back, making him growl and shake. He lifts himself on his hind legs and falls backwards, landing on his back, and crushing the duplicate. He rolls over and walks in front of Sonya, keeping her below him as he bit into another one.

She runs at another duplicate as another stabs Bigby with a pole. Bigby smacks it away and knocks her down, pinning her down before he bites her head off.

Sonya backed up swinging her chain at the duplicates, slamming them into a wall and watched them shatter as she panted heavily. “I wish I had my bat…”, she panted.

She looked up to see Bigby chasing a duplicate onto the boiler and snaps at it. Once he tried again, the duplicate shoved a pole between his teeth, making his mouth stay open. He shook his head and bit the pole, bending it enough for him to spit it out.

He looks down at Sonya and stands over her, looking around at the accumulating duplicates. Bigby looks side to side before reeling his head back. Her eyes widened as she realized what he was about to do and ran behind one of his legs.

Bigby takes a huge breath and blows a huge gust of wind at the duplicates. Some of them only skidded back a bit, fighting off the wind before Bigby blew another strong gust of wind, shattering them against the walls.

Sonya notices Mary above him and rushes to get to her before she could attack him while he blows. The real Bloody Mary growled at Sonya once she made it to the top and wrapped her chain around her.

Mary let out a scratchy screech and fought her chain off, slicing at Sonya’s face and making the bridge shake. Sonya wobbly throws a punch, nearly missing and grazes her knuckles against a shard.

Before Sonya could throw another punch, Mary pushes her off the bridge, making Bigby growl as he looks up. Sonya closed her eyes, expecting to hit the ground but felt a soft landing instead.

She opens her eyes to see black fur surrounding her as if she were laying in knee high grass. Bigby had caught her, making her sigh in relief. She looked up to see Mary pulling out a shard from her head and dived for Bigby.

“Bigby, she’s comin’!”, she warned, making him growl and leap. Sonya held tight, hoping that she wouldn’t pull his fur out as he jumped up towards her.

Bigby catches her in between his teeth, and before she could stab the shard in his eye, he chomps down on her, shattering her. He lands and lets out a loud roar that makes goosebumps rise on Sonya’s skin. She smiled and climbed down, looking around for more.

He looks around, growling, unsure of their safety. Sonya chuckled to herself, looking up at him as he bared his teeth, intently watching the sides.

She places a hand on his front leg, making his attention snap toward her. “You’re good.”, she says, making him stare at her for a moment before lowering his head with a huff.

She lifts a hand and puts it on his head, rubbing his head as his gaze softens. She placed her forehead on his. “You did good.”, she reassured and could’ve sworn she heard a soft whine covered with a rumble.

She wrapped her arms around him as best as she could until she felt the fur turn into skin and hair brushed against her face. She looked to see Bigby’s human form as he laid in her arms, panting softly.

She could see how tired he was, from the cuts on his face to his bloodied mouth, he slowly opened his yellow eyes to look at her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving him a tired grin. “There you are, pup.”

He gave her a soft smile, "Hi." and wiped at his mouth. “Gross…”, he mutters. She chuckled and paused.

Her eyes widened as she took in his half naked─ or rather, fully naked state without having to look down. “And you’re naked…”, she says, turning away with burning cheeks. He looked down and looked around for some clothes. He found them and went to get dressed, leaving her in embarrassing silence.

She waited, rubbing at her bleeding cheeks, and trying to shake the memory of his half naked being from her mind. Her eyes look up to see a window to an office where the Crooked Man stood there, watching in amusement.

She glared at him as he turned away. She sighed, until she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see a fully dressed Bigby.

She noticed his yellow eyes never returned to their dark brown color as he glared at the window ahead of them. “C’mon.”

He led her to the office, cautiously opening the door. They walk in and see Crooked Man standing there, his back faced toward them. “Hello, Bigby, Miss Sonya. You two look tired.”, he said. “Give me one good reason not to rip you apart right now!”, Bigby snarled.

Crooked Man turned around and aimed a gun at him. “This gun holds six rounds of specially designed silver bullets. Now, I may not be the best shot….but I can guarantee that at least one bolt will meet it’s mark and you’ll find yourself rolling on the floor in agony. Then she will be next. Unable to heal yourselves. Without Swineheart to save you or Miss Sonya, both of you will die.”, he said, as Bigby covers Sonya.

“Before you do anything with me, I thought I should point out a few things. Snow White wants you to bring me back to the Woodlands, doesn’t she?”, Crooked Man asked.

“That’s right. But what happens to you once you get there is a different story.”, Bigby says, walking toward Crooked Man. “I’m not quite finished.”, Crooked Man says, backing away from him. “You two bring me back alive. Look, all I ask for is a chance to speak for myself in front of the community. And I’m sure Miss White would agree that I should be given a fair trial. Can we at least agree on that?”

“The whole town’s gonna be calling for your execution. Why would you want us to bring you back there?”, Sonya asked him, confused.

“Why don’t you let me worry about that.”, Crooked Man says. Bigby starts to slowly walk towards him. “Look….there’s no reason for us to be at each other’s throats here.”, Crooked Man warned.

“That’s funny….coming from the guy pointing a gun at my head.”, Bigby remarks with a smirk. Crooked Man looked at the gun. “This is just a precaution. I’m sure you understand. I’m no murderer, Mr Wolf, Miss Blaze. I didn’t kill those women. And I think you two know that.”

“Maybe you didn’t carry it out….but I don’t think Georgie was lying when he said you ordered their deaths.”, Bigby said.

“Georgie would’ve said anything to save himself. We all know that. I’m a businessman. Not a killer.”, Crooked Man said. “You’re doing the same thing. Instead, you aren’t the one bleeding out… at least, not yet. You still got a lot to answer for.”, Sonya said, walking up.

“And I will….as long as you agree to my terms. Because I’m not saying another word until I am brought before the community. I don’t mean to belabor the point, but just so we’re clear. if either of you change your mind and decide to do something stupid….you won’t get your answers….but you will have a difficult time explaining yourselves to Miss White and the rest of this miserable town.”, he says, stepping back some more.

“You two are often reckless. And I worry you’re not thinking of the–”, he pauses. “Let me ask you two an honest question…..what do you two really care about here? Where this case is concerned, I mean.”, Crooked Man asked.

“This is about protecting Fabletown. When some asshole murders two of our people, it’s our job to bring him down.”, Bigby declared. “Then why are you here?”, Crooked Man asked. “You know who murdered them. Georgie. He’s dead isn’t he?” He looked at his gun before looking at them. “My point being, the killer has been dealt with. You’ve won.”

“You really think we’re that stupid!?”, Bigby asked. “I understand you two have an obligation to bring me in, but both of you can brighten up a little. It’s over. So….shall we get going?”, Crooked man asked.

Bigby smirked and shook his head. “Oh, I don’t think so. We’re not doing this your way.”

The Crooked Man takes the safety off of the gun. “How unfortunate.”, Crooked Man replied. Bigby charges forward and grabs the gun out his hand. Crooked Man shoots but misses Bigby, being pinned to the wall by Bigby’s arm to his neck. His expression changes from shock to smug as he looks at them. “I’m sure Miss White will be pleased…..such reliable pups.”

“You’re under arrest. You will be given a trial in front of your peers.”, Sonya says, crossing her arms. Bigby harshly cuffs the Crooked Man. “And your punishment will follow.”, Bigby glared at him.

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nav-arre · 4 years ago

Text

I Will Fear No Evil

Day 1 of FebuWhump2021, run by @febuwhump! Also can be read on ao3.

For the most part, camping with an army chasing you wasn’t much different than camping without an army chasing you, Jaskier thought. When with Geralt, things were usually barebones anyway. The brief time they’d camped with Yennefer had been luxury but four people were easier to track than two and two, so they’d once again had to split off. And so their camp was as basic as usual, a few more traps set and more care taken to blend in with the forest around them.

But all in all, it felt… normal. It was almost like old times, deliriously far away now, where they would camp in the woods when they found each other again on the Path, would stay up talking late into the night for no particular reason.

Jaskier looked up at the tree beside him, which was losing some of its honey-colored leaves. Nestled in a branch were two turtle doves, cuddled together against the slight morning breeze.

“Geralt!” he whispered loudly. “Geralt! Look!' He pointed up. Across the tiny camp, Geralt looked up from fiddling with his potions and raised an eyebrow. Jaskier pointed excitedly. The witcher looked up, and after a beat, went back to his potions. “Birds,” he said.

“Turtle doves, Geralt, two in one place is lucky. A good omen for love! And friendship!”

“Don’t look like turtles to me,” Geralt said. “And I’ve never heard anything about doves and love."

“That’s… Geralt. I know you’re not one for human mythos, but they’re turtle doves. It’s… its famous, Geralt! It’s a thing!”

“Never heard of it.”

“It is very much a thing!” Jaskier said, a bit louder than he probably should have but they were safe here. He always felt safer with Geralt. But he dropped his voice again, just in case. “It is very much a thing, Geralt. Turtle doves are a pillar of love songs. Even I’ve used them more than once! Don’t you ever listen?”

“No.”

“You!” Jaskier picked up an acorn and threw it at his head, but Geralt caught it easily. “You menace. I try and make a nice point about doves and you…”

Geralt was smirking at him.

“Ohhhh, oh you complete ass! Mr. ‘Oblivious Witcher’ strikes again, well pardon me for wanting to trust you, for wanting to educate you! When will you stop pulling this?”

Geralt chuckled. “When you stop falling for it so easily,” he said, pocketing the acorn.

Jaskier went to look back at the birds but stopped when he saw Geralt’s raised hand and his face-- which went from concentrating, to confused, to panicked, all in a second.

“Jaskier— behind me, now!”

The bard didn’t waste a moment, scrambling desperately over to his friend, whipping a small dagger off of his belt. The woods were silent, and Geralt’s eyes were blown wide. He started to lower himself down slowly, eyes up and sword drawn, in an attempt to grab one of his potions. Jaskier looked around wildly.

And then, the birds flew off in a rush.

It happened at once. Bandits— no, more professional than that, but quite not Nilfgaardian soldiers— seized on them, easily 15, but he didn’t have time to count. He swung wildly, but he was too scared, too wrapped up in protecting himself and trying to watch for signals for Geralt. He landed a lucky punch in some bastard's face and swung to see another figure sneaking up on Geralt. “Look out!”

If Geralt turned, he didn’t see; a bag was thrown over his head, his knees kicked out from under him. Before he could lash out, his arms and legs were being held down and tied up and felt a pit in his stomach as he heard Geralt shout and then fall silent, followed by a dull thud on the ground below.

“GERALT!”

The captors quickly ripped the bag off and stuffed some cloth in his mouth, securing it with a tie around his head, before shoving the bag back down. Fuck.

He tried to listen to them— but all he got was that they didn’t have long to travel before making it to their quarters, and they didn’t have dimeritium, but wouldn’t need it because they’d send word to Nilfgaard immediately. They wouldn’t have long to escape.

“I’m taking the bard,” one said, kicking him in the stomach. “Wanna see him squirm. Then we’ll carve something out of this beast,” and Jaskier saw red behind the bag. He screamed, thrashed, tried desperately to fight off the ropes.

“Gods. Shut up,” said one captor, before he felt a blunt pain on his head and his world went black.

xxx

Jaskier came to slowly and deeply uncomfortably. It was musty, smelled foul, and the air hung in his lungs like molasses. His arms were behind his back, and one of his shoulders— he tried to move it and hissed against the pain— was definitely dislocated. The cold steel of handcuffs cut into his wrists, stiff and uncomfortable, and he was knelt in a liquid he didn’t want to look at, much less under the origins of. His head ached enough as it was.

His knees were also touching something warm, and when he opened his eyes blearily he found that it was Geralt’s own bent legs, slotted between his own. His vision swam, his stomach lurched, and he shut his eyes tightly to stop sickness coming on. Jaskier took a few deep breaths— feeling lucky he had the lungs of a bard— and steeled himself. He looked up.

He could barely see. The cell was… he’d had closets bigger than this. It was clearly a very temporary holding space, the narrow walls definitely designed to make them panic, and Jaskier found it might actually be working. Geralt’s head hung, and he breathed deeply, but his slight snarl against the smell of the room proved him to be awake. Thank the gods, that was something. Geralt’s face was only a few inches from his own, and Jaskier had to restrain himself from burying his face in the Witcher’s shoulder, or bumping their foreheads together.

“Well. Good morning,” he said softly, trying to coax out a reaction. All he got was Geralt’s next intake of breath sounding a bit deeper. This was bad. If Geralt was still waiting, still thinking, this was worse than Jaskier had thought. He looked around— his witcher's wrists were in handcuffs much like his own, but his ankles were cuffed to the floor as well and a heavy chain went around his middle several times. His neck had a thick cuff around it too, and though it was attached to the wall by a chain instead of into the wall itself, it restricted his movements enough to make it an issue. They were keeping him worse than one would keep an animal. It made him sick to see.

These captors were not the most sophisticated, and may not have had dimeritium, but Geralt’s bindings were solid enough that there wouldn’t be much for him to do. But Jaskier could help. He could always help, some way, somehow, even if it was small.

At the top of the wall behind Geralt was the one and only light source for the cell, a long, narrow window only as tall as his fist might be but a foot or two long. In front of it were thick metal bars; likely iron, his mind supplied unhelpfully. Jaskier set to work dreaming up an escape plan. If— if he just stood on Geralt’s shoulders, maybe he could pry the bars apart, and punch the glass out? But what good would that do— it wasn’t like it was tall enough for either of them to squeeze through. He looked to his right, and a dark stone wall greeted him, and to his left, where the door to the cell stood imposing, solid, and very much locked. He hung his head and tried to fight his creeping anxiety. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could do this time.

Okay. They’d been in tough spots before, he’d been in bad spots before but this… this was different. This was Nilfgaard, and this was Geralt. He could take Nilfgaard alone, no amount of torture could bring any answers out of him, but if they used Geralt against him… he felt doubt in himself sneak in. The thought of Geralt, hurt because he wouldn’t release information turned his stomach, and he realized that, much as he wanted to, he couldn’t promise not to say something.

Fear began to rise in him. He rarely was afraid in these situations— he was good at converting feelings into something productive— emotional alchemy, he liked to think of it— but that was because there was always a way out. Every situation had an escape button if only you knew where to look. But he knew they would stop at nothing to know where Yennefer and Ciri were, and that was different. He knew they wanted Geralt dead, and that was different. That was so much different.

“Jaskier.” He looked up. Geralt was looking at him with concern and perhaps frustration. “You need to breathe.” He could only nod.

“Yep.”

Silence again. Something dripped onto the floor beside him.

“How did they…? Fuck, was it me with the birds? Did they hear?”

“No, they had a silencing charm. Should have heard them earlier, though.”

Jaskier looked at him, pained. “It’s not your fault. No point in lingering on it anyhow.” He shifted on his knees, and looked desperately around the cell again. “Well.”

“It's— I’ll get you out.”

“I’m not interested if it’s not both of us, Geralt.”

Blue met gold. They’d had this conversation before. Geralt sighed and looked around their cell.

“I don’t have much.”

“Yeah, well. Not giving us a fair fight, are they?” He hoped some light-heartedness would quell his fears, but it did nothing. Anxiety continued to creep in.

“They’re not.”

“Wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise.”

“No,” Geralt said with a huffed laugh. They both knelt there, breathing, looking at each other.

Jaskier’s resolve broke. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Geralt agreed.

There was nothing they could do. They were stuck. There was nothing. There was nobody coming and no ace up their sleeves. There was nothing. He’d have to suffer this, and die? Watch his friend be tortured? Be tortured himself? Let them take everything from him and give them what they wanted— either tears or information, or both. He should be brave but fuck, he was everything they’d always said he was, wasn’t he? A coward. He strained against his cuffs and they cut into his skin, unyielding. He thrashed about for a moment, and Geralt just looked at him sadly. Oh, fuck. He stopped, his body suddenly feeling like lead.

“I…” and suddenly the panic was overtaking him. Fuck. -Fuck. What if he couldn’t manage it? What if he wasn’t strong enough? He was going to die here, he knew it, that didn’t feel like anxiety, that was just realistic. That wasn’t even his fear, anymore, there was a dim acceptance of it in him.

They’d talked about this situation. They’d planned for it. They all knew each other's last fucking wishes, and gods, Yennefer and Ciri were going to have to deal with all of it alone. And— well, he knew he was a coward, everyone did, but this surprised him— what he was so, so deeply scared of was the pain. Of what they would do to him, of what it would be like to watch Geralt suffer, of all of it. Gods. He was shaking, he knew it, and Geralt was saying something but he couldn’t even hear him.

Oh but— but Geralt. Oh, the cuffs weren’t dimeritium.

Oh, how selfish he was about to be. Oh, how he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I need you to—“ Whatever Geralt was saying, he stopped. Jaskier tried to slow his breathing. “I need you to Axii me.”

Geralt frowned deeply. “What? No.”

“Geralt. I can’t— if they have you, I’m not sure I can do this. Please, gods, I know its selfish, I’ll give you anything in return but—“ Jaskier looked up, met his Witcher’s eyes, and did not look away. “This may be my last request of you Geralt. Please. Axii me.”

“I have no time for this. What would—“

“Just— tell me not to feel pain. Or fear. Make it easier, Geralt, please— I love you, I love you, if I see them hurt you I can’t promise what I’d say to make it stop. If they get bad enough— Geralt. Please. I can’t watch that.” He heard footsteps in the corridor, and though he couldn’t tell where they were going, it made everything more urgent. He realized tears were streaming down his face, cutting tracks through the grime, and he wondered numbly how long they’d been falling. “Geralt. Please. Please, dear heart, let me find some peace, help me protect you, Yennefer, Ciri, for gods sakes Geralt—”

“I can’t—”

“You can, Geralt, you can, I’m asking, I’m begging, my fate will be the same just please, please don’t make it hurt, I can’t—”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Is— so you will—“

“Okay. I…” Geralt shut his eyes tight and took a shuttering breath. “Fine. Close your eyes.”

Jaskier let his lids fall closed and realized the tears were coming in earnest. He was taking in small gasps of air, filled with mucus and completely undignified. He wanted so badly to be brave this time. He wanted it so badly. But he wasn’t strong enough and he knew it. Maybe he never had been. At least it’d all be over soon.

Geralt swallowed and opened his eyes. Jaskier was shaking, trying to breathe deeply but small sobs kept breaking through. Jaskier didn’t cry, he just didn’t; not when they were captured, not when he lost a competition, not when he was rejected. Jaskier was soft but this, this was new, and he’d known the man two decades now. He’d never seen him like this. It hurt. Against his nature, he wanted to reach out and— touch? Hold? Something. Anything but this.

But there wasn’t much else to do. Jaskier wasn’t wrong, was the worst part— if he couldn’t find them a way out, there was a good chance they’d kill the bard to hurt the witcher, torture Jaskier to get information or force him to watch Geralt be tortured. He could take the pain, and he knew Jaskier knew that, but watching it happen was another matter. Just as he was watching Jaskier suffer now.

His best friend was knelt in front of him in a tiny, dim cell, and asking for peace and had said— had said he loved—

Geralt shook off the thought. No. Not now. Couldn’t deal with that now.

He adjusted himself best he could to cast the sign before stopping. Jaskier’s tears and hiccuping breaths were slowing a bit.

Maybe he had to deal with it now.

“You— Jaskier, you know I—“

“Yes of course I do, Geralt.” His heart seized a bit. “All of it. Everything. It's okay. It's okay.” He rested his head against his bard’s soft hair. He didn’t deserve this fate. “Thank you,” he was whispering, “Thank you. You can do it. I’m ready. I love you, Geralt, do it now. You can do this.”

With fingers he could not feel, Geralt made the sign of Axii. “You will not feel pain. You will not feel fear, nor grief. You’ll be at peace.”

“No pain. No fear, no grief. Peace,” the bard replied thickly. Geralt felt the sign take hold and drew back to get a better look at his friend. Jaskier looked up blearily, almost drunkenly, and gave a lopsided smile. “Oh, Geralt. It’s lovely to be so close to you.”

Geralt took a breath. Footsteps drew nearer. Jaskier’s face was tracked with tears, and he still hiccuped a breath occasionally. He smiled still, his body loose of anxiety.

“Have I ever told you how stunning you are up close? It’s really something. Mmm. You seem tense, love. Whatever it is, it’s okay now. Oh Geralt, you really should relax a bit. Things are nice here. Peaceful.”

It occurred to him then how often he had unconsciously been spurred into action by watching Jaskier in pain. Seeing him hurt, or scared, or angry at injustice, or under threat he didn’t deserve, that was always Geralt’s cue to spare no expense; to fix the problem, heal the hurt. Protect his bard. And here his bard was, no fear, no hurt, no anguish. And it kicked up the same feelings in him but with something new as well. He didn’t want to think about it.

Jaskier had said love. And not in his flowery, Jaskier way. Love.

Ah.

He heard keys in the lock. Without a doubt, it was their captors, come to snap dimeritium around him while they had the chance. He strained against his restraints but they wouldn’t budge.

“I do love you, you know,” Jaskier said softly. He rested his head against Geralt’s shoulder. “You are so easy to love, dear. I wish you’d let yourself be. There’s so much of it waiting for you.”

No, he thought, he wouldn’t let his bard die here.

xxx

The thing about not feeling fear, Geralt thought belatedly, running through the forest with a bleeding bard in his arms, is that it allowed one to do absolutely stupid, reckless, and possibly brilliant things.

A bit like how Jaskier, seeing Geralt being handled roughly, head smashed once, twice, three times against the cold wet stone walls, had broken his own hand to escape his cuffs, stolen a sword off one of the soldiers, and slain three of them off without a thought of his own safety. He hadn’t seemed angry, or vengeful, or scared, just a calm man with a purpose that didn’t phase him. He’d knicked the key off a body, brought Geralt out of his chains, and quickly caught a sword through his side as he straightened up. But then it was Geralt’s turn to swing a sword, and before long they were out.

Keeping the overly calm Jaskier running had been a task in it of itself, but once they made it into the deeper woods, Geralt realized that it wasn’t that Jaskier’s wound was minor, but rather that he just didn’t feel the pain. And in the running he’d torn the wound more— Geralt didn’t want to look at it just yet, but it turned his stomach to see.

So now he was carrying the bag of potions and Jaskier’s small sack he’d rescued, his own swords, Jaskier’s lute that had lain beside it, and the bard himself in his ever-wearying arms. His head ached dully from being slammed repeatedly against the wall, and the few wounds he’s sustained, though healing, ached. When he finally found Roach (the only god he dared pray to at this point in his life) he threw everything on her back with the promise of apples and sugar, and they were off.

xxx

Jaskier’s head throbbed and ached. His side was stiff and there was a shooting pain in his leg. Both knees felt… off. One of his hands was so bandaged up he couldn’t move it at all, and his attempt to wiggle his fingers brought tears to his eyes. He let out a short involuntary cry against the sharp pain. And he was famished.

But there was something soft underneath him, and his clothes felt fresh and new. The air was sweet with… was that one of his oils? The rosemary one.

A moment later he heard footsteps approach and a door swing open carefully. He opened his eyes to see the blurry form of Geralt, who tried wordlessly to give him water, holding the glass to his lips. He sipped, but couldn’t bear to look his friend in the face. Fuck. What a coward he’d been, what an utter fool, what an ass to not believe Geralt would always get them out of trouble— how selfish he’d been. How disgusting Geralt must think him now.

He took a few sips and then turned away, and the glass was set back down. He could feel Geralt stay a moment, hovering over the bed, before crossing the room again quietly. Jaskier looked around as his friend left, took in the small 2 bedroom inn room, and nearly said something before Geralt softly closed the door behind him, not looking back.

Fuck. He wouldn’t even look at Jaskier now. He was doing this because he was a good man, and that was all. Jaskier didn’t deserve this kindness. Tears fell again. He didn’t deserve any of this, he should have— should have let them— should have—

He bit back sobs and tried to think of something else, but all he could imagine was Geralt looking at him, disappointed and ashamed.

xxx

The next few days were just as bad as the first the bard had come awake.

Geralt had wanted to give him time, space, but Jaskier wouldn’t even look at him now. He’d thought he was going to die, after all. He’d said too much. He’d exaggerated. He regretted saying what he did.

Geralt understood that— loving a Witcher would be shameful even to the most accepting humans. He couldn’t fault Jaskier. He wouldn’t. He faulted himself, for believing it was more than the pleading of a man afraid of death.

So he fed him, told him he’d spent a day and half asleep, at an inn that owed him a favor, that they were safe, for a bit. And told him that all of his wounds, (a stab in his side, a sprained ankle, a few broken fingers, a deep bruise on his thigh, and one on his rib,) wouldn’t leave many lasting issues once they were mended. They just needed patience. And the dislocation was healed— Geralt had fixed the shoulder while Jaskier was under the Axii. He was clean, no more matted blood on his hair or filth-ridden clothes. He’d keep the wound clean and then the bard could take over looking after it himself.

Jaskier hadn’t met his eyes.

He knew Jaskier would want to split ways as soon as he could leave, but that was difficult when Nilfgaard was chasing them… so Geralt prepared his arguments to get Jaskier to stay, and resigned himself to a colder winter than usual.

xxx

The two danced around each other for days. Geralt ran his purse dry, and took odd jobs, waiting for a time it was either safe to contact Yennefer and ask for help or safe for Jaskier to start moving again, and helped his friend eat and drink twice a day. Jaskier diligently ate, drank, and slept, and barely spoke a word.

Until the evening of the fifth day. Geralt sat on the second bed, polishing and sharpening his swords methodically, the sweet-sharp sound of the blades giving some life to the otherwise silent room. He was waiting for a bath to be filled and pretended the silence was normal, that he was human, and was waiting to hear when they were done filling the basin. He ran his hands up and down the sword. It didn’t need any more polishing. He rubbed it some more.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier said, and Geralt’s movements came to a halt. He looked up, but Jaskier wouldn’t meet his eyes. He went back to his swords.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Geralt said after a moment. “It was… you’re human. It was tense. Emotions were high.”

“Doesn’t excuse it,” Jaskier said softly, and a pang shot through his chest.

“It’s okay.”

“I regret it.”

Geralt grit his teeth. “Clearly.”

Jasker’s head spun. “Well then— then why are you still here?”

“You’re my friend, despite it all.”

“How does that not make it worse, Geralt? You were supposed to be able to trust me.”

“Well, then how about this. You’re a human, with human faults. Is that enough for you? Do I need more reasons to care?”

“I don’t need you to pity me, Geralt!” He tried to rise up on an elbow but the pain sent him back down. He finally turned his cold, fiery gaze on Geralt. “Fuck— I don’t want pity! If you’re only going to look at me like the coward I am then turn me loose and I’ll— I’ll go back to Oxenfurt, I’ll start over somewhere, but I won’t, I can’t deal with pity. Even if I am pitiable, even if I am…” he waved his non-bandaged hand, “the way I am.”

Geralt stared back blankly and then frowned. “Why would I think you were a coward?”

Jaskier stared blankly back before squinting. “Because I… the Axii. What the hell were you talking about?”

“The. What you— what you said— about me. Feelings.” He looked down at his swords. Swords didn’t fall in love. Another reason to like swords.

“N—Ger— I— I’m a coward, I’m a fraud and a disaster and I failed you, Geralt, I failed you, and Yennefer, and Ciri, and everyone who’s relying on us to hold things together which at my estimation is at least half the continent, if not more. How is that not what you’re focusing on?!”

“You didn’t fail anyone. You were afraid of giving up information. You asked for help. You were trying to protect us. And yourself. That’s not failure. You fought off three guards. You broke your own hand. On purpose”

“I was supposed to be brave! I didn’t last a minute in there. They hadn’t even done anything to us Geralt, and I folded. I can’t be scared right now, I’m not supposed to be, I could only fight because you used magic, and you only did that because I begged.”

Geralt shifted himself and sat on Jaskier’s bed. “The… fear of facing something is the same pain, twice felt. Anxiety is useless, fear… not entirely helpful. But if you lose your fear, you get… dull. Oblivious. It’s the balance. Of being afraid, but not falling into speculation. It’s not easy.” He waited for Jaskier to meet his eyes. “You’re not trained for this. You can’t expect yourself to not feel this kind of fear the first time you’re really presented with it.”

“It was cowardly.”

“And?”

Jaskier frowned. “And I should— I ought to be better than cowardly. For all of you, at least.”

“‘Cowardly’ has kept you alive, more often than not. You’re brave when you need to be. About… other things. Things I couldn’t be brave about if I wanted to be, and I do. I don’t… I don’t fault you for asking for it, Jaskier. You shouldn’t fault yourself either. It won’t do you much good.”

Jaskier sighed, unconvinced but unwilling to argue more. Someone knocked at the door, to tell them the bath was ready. Silence hung again.

“We… when we get to Kaer Morhen…” Jaskier perked up at this in surprise, “we can work on it. If you want. It could happen again. If you want to prepare for it, feel more ready, we can find a way to get you prepared for it. If that’s what you want.”

“…Kaer Morhen?”

Geralt frowned. “That’s where we’re going.”

“Well that’s where you’re going but I thought— well, you know—”

“That I’d leave you behind,” Geralt finished.

“Again,” they said, together, eyes not meeting.

“Wouldn’t fault you if you did,” Jaskier said with a small smile.

“You’re in this now. They know you, they know we’re connected, it’s already happened once… it’s more of a risk to leave you behind than not.”

“Ah, right. Can’t have me blabbing away.”

“No,” Geralt agreed. “But you’re also… wanted, there.”

Jaskier’s eyes twinkled, dimmer than usual, but there, and that was enough. “Need some entertainment up in that lonely keep? A barker for the winter? A dashing troubadour, a mellifluous bard, a—”

“Don’t push it.” Geralt held his stony expression for a moment before a grin cut across his face, and Jaskier grew one to match.

Their smiles were small, but even that seemed a victory now. Jaskier looked down at Geralt’s hand, which at some point had migrated to rest on his leg. “I… I certainly said some things back there, didn’t I?” he said softly.

“Mmm.”

“And that was what you meant, earlier. Feelings.”

“Yep.”

“Right. Well. I… no sense hiding it now, I suppose. I can’t remember it all, but if it was about you, and about— about love, then I meant it. Have for a while, actually.”

They were both silent again, and— his own feelings weren’t something he’d ever been able to articulate. But things had come close, and he’d lost something he hadn’t even realized he really had. So with small, careful movements, Geralt lifted his own hand and took Jaskier’s non-bandaged one in his own.

“Oh,” Jaskier said blankly. “Oh. Oh, Geralt. Really?”

Geralt nodded.

“Oh. Well. You’ve stolen speech from me. I’m…” he tangled their fingers together, and Geralt gave a light squeeze. “Wow. I knew there was… but I didn’t think… wow.”

“Mmm,” Geralt said, and finally looked back to see Jaskier staring at their intertwined hands, a flush high on his cheeks. Eventually, he looked back up, and something on Geralt’s face made the bard’s expression go from awestruck to… sympathetic, maybe.

“No rush, yeah? We’ve had this long, we can take a little longer.”

Something in his chest loosened. “Thank you.”

“Oh, dear, it’s my pleasure. Can I… would you mind if I said it again, under significantly less duress?”

Geralt nodded, slower this time. Their eyes met firmly, though Jaskier’s gaze was soft. More than anything, he wanted to summon one of the dozens, maybe hundreds of speeches he’d written to Geralt about this subject, but none came to him. So he let the words use him, instead.

“Geralt. I love you. Deeply. I have loved you, in fact, for well over a decade now, and I was infatuated with you years before that. I mean it, really and truly. I’ll take you any way you come. Pun originally unintended there, but extremely intended now that I’ve heard myself say it.”

They looked at each other— it’d been five days without real eye contact, and they soaked each other in greedily, just looking a gift in it of itself. Jaskier ran a thumb across Geralt’s fingers. “And, again, sorry, excitement here, not to rush, genuinely, but if you’ll allow me the indulgence?” Geralt, confused, nodded once more and watched in muted shock as Jaskier brought the Witcher’s hands to his lips and gave them a chaste kiss. He could feel the smile on his face bloom wider against his knuckles, and if this stuttering in his chest is what love was supposed to be, he’d take every ounce. Jaskier lowered their still connected hands, while Geralt used his free one to push at his stomach.

“Butterflies?” Jaskier asked slyly.

“No,” Geralt answered, and looked like he was considering something deeply. “More like… bees.”

“I give you… bees? Or— Oh, like the birds and the bees, alright now we’re—”

“There are no birds in my stomach. They just feel like bees.”

“Okay, well. This is off to a rousing start.”

“Are bees not a normal side effect of… this?”

“No, Geralt, it’s not typically… oh my god, you insolent bastard, you’re doing your oblivious witcher act again, aren’t you! Oh no no no, you won’t fool me.” Jaskier threw his head against his pillow defiantly but squeezed their hands again. Some hair fell in front of his face, greasy and unwashed.

Geralt huffed a laugh, and then gently— “Geralt, what are you— oh—” scooped Jaskier into his arms, careful to mind his healing wounds.

“Let me clean you up.”

“Wow. Okay. A lot of things are changing very suddenly for us. This is fine. It’s really— okay. Why am I… why am I nervous?”

“Don’t know,” Geralt shrugged. “Guess you’ve got to be brave.” He sat Jaskier down, gently undid his bandages, and laid him in the warm water.

“This is usually my job,” Jaskier muttered.

“You’ve been through enough this week. My turn,” Geralt said, and let himself bury his face in Jaskier’s hair for a moment.

Jaskier felt tears welling up again behind his eyes. He wasn’t sure he deserved this, not really, the fear of his own inadequacy building up once more. But as two small tears ran down his cheeks, Geralt smiled down at him, and he started to feel… well, maybe peace a non-Axii’d, real, genuine peace he hadn’t known before. Then again, maybe Geralt was right. Maybe it was bees.

He let the warm sensation of the water soothe his aching joints and sighed deeply in contentment, let his eyes fall shut, and smiled.

Geralt splashed his face with water. He smiled wider.

Definitely bees.

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