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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 13

First

Chloe sat on the bridge overlooking the river, her feet swinging absently as she watched bubbles streaming to the surface.

She’d love to help.

No, really. On top of just being bored out of her mind, she could also rub it in the other miraculous holders’ faces. That would be fun.

But, alas, things never worked out for her. Master Fu hadn’t whipped up a new batch of powerups quite yet, and even if he had she doubted that he would have given it to her of all people.

(Well, in all technicality they could go underwater and not die. The suits gave them some protection. But have you ever tried punching someone underwater? It’s quite the disadvantage.)

So, she settled for eating some ice cream and watching.

It was kind of fun, if she was being honest. She watched with bated breath, waiting for the occasional moments where Carapace would be thrown out of the water and hit a wall so hard it collapsed on him. He noticed her the third time this happened and now made a point to throw chunks of building at her every time.

Someone was in a bad mood. Who knows why. Couldn’t have anything to do with her, surely.

After about twenty minutes of fighting the buildings started mending themselves and she smiled as her ice cream reappeared in her hand.

Carapace jumped out of the water, a young woman in his arms. Once they were safely on land he detached her from the oxygen tank hidden in the shell on his back. If some of the water on her face wasn’t from the river, neither of them were going to say anything about it.

He walked over. Chloe thought he was just giving her some space to cry (the person looked foreign, if their confused frown was anything to go by), but then she saw the annoyance in the slight set of his jaw and she groaned mentally. Great. She was going to get chewed out again.

“Thanks so much for your help, Chloe --”

“Queenie or Queen Bee when we’re on the job, remember?”

He raised his eyebrows before shrugging and continuing on like he hadn’t heard her: “-- were you here to just watch and laugh?”

She scoffed. “No, that was just a fun little bonus.” She handed him the newly reformed ice cream. “I came here to take the akuma home. Didn’t know she was foreign, though.”

That made him pause, his previously annoyed expression quickly changing to a more confused one. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanted to help me? You?”

“... yeah?” Said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest. He was clearly looking for some sort of ulterior motive in her eyes, and she figured she’d give him one because she didn’t know how long she could stand to have him look stunned about her doing something mildly nice. “I feel like I owe everyone one for getting us all into this mess.”

He didn’t seem fully convinced (was he really that surprised that she was a decent person? She was a hero! It was her job!), but he let the subject go.

“Thanks, Queenie.”

She smiled a little. “Your ice cream is melting.”

“Damn it --!”

She snickered and walked over to the foreigner, who was just now coming out of their shock.

“Hey!”

The foreigner stared at her for a few minutes before whispering a: “What happened?”

“Um...”

What was the official spiel? Dang. She wracked her brain, trying to remember anything from the many hour long session where Master Fu had drilled it into all of them. Maybe she shouldn’t have slept through it.

“You got turned into a monster by an evil butterfly because we have a magical super terrorist.”

The lady stared at her for a few seconds before laughing and shaking her head. “Okay, what actually happened?”

Chloe gave her a shrug. “I don’t know. You fell in the water and my friend got you out.”

She jerked her head towards Carapace, who was casually eating the ice cream on a nearby bench and not going to class like she’d expected but whatever.

The foreigner nodded. “Yeah, I am a bit clumsy. Why’re you dressed like that?”

Chloe looked down at herself and hesitated. Usually her dad wanted them to say that they were filming a movie so they would still get tourists, but Nadja Chamack wasn’t there to make it sound realistic (no one wants to watch still water on the news for 10+ minutes), so…

“My friend and I cosplay.”

“Oh! Cool!” Said the foreigner. “Thanks for helping me! Hope your outfit didn’t get too damaged!”

After Carapace assured her that it was fine, she relaxed. They gave her directions to her hotel and watched her leave.

He cracked a grin once he was sure the foreigner was gone. “Maybe there’s something in the Paris air that makes people stupid. I still can’t believe anyone actually falls for that.”

“The alternative is believing there's a guy who’s going around with evil butterflies. I’d believe anything over that.”

“America has superheroes and stuff, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but the heroes are adults and the villains actually show up.”

He sighed. “Lucky them.”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree.

He polished off his ice cream. When asked, she turned away so he could detransform and put his mask on. She didn’t know why he bothered detransforming when he was still wearing a green hoodie as a civilian. What was the point? Did he really want the sleeves back that badly?

Whatever. She detransformed as well.

“Ready to head home?”

“For someone who was so annoyed about leaving class, you don’t seem all that eager to go back to it,” said Chloe, crossing her arms over her chest as they started on their way.

He raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. “The excuse I used isn’t one that would let me go back. Or, at least, if I did everyone in class would think I was a terrible friend.”

She nodded her understanding.

“Thanks for trying, though.”

She chanced a look back and scoffed a little at the soft smile on his face. “Don’t expect anything like that again. I just owed you.”

The look melted into a cheeky grin. “Well, actually, you didn’t actually do anything to help, so don’t you still owe me?”

“... no? I gave you ice cream. Debt gone. That's how it works.”

“Okay, but it was previously eaten ice cream.”

“Like you can tell the difference.”

He rested a hand over his heart. “I happen to have a very refined palette, thank you very much.”

“I’ve seen you eat pickles with peanut butter.”

“You’ve dipped a burger in honey!”

“I have an excuse,” she reminded him. “What’s yours?”

He was silent for a moment. There was no excuse for pickles and peanut butter.

“... you still owe me.”

“No, I don’t!”

Would you believe me if I said that they continued debating this the entire twenty minute walk home?

And maybe even a little bit afterwards?

Chloe glanced out the window. It was nearing October, and…

“Hey, guys, we need to use these vegetables before they go out of season.”

Chat looked up from where he was watching a cartoon. Rena stopped doing pushups.

(Ladybug was on patrol and Carapace was doing homework in his room. Unfortunate, because now both of the people assigned the role of ‘group impulse control’ were absent.)

“What even uses a lot of vegetables?” Rena said.

“Salad,” said Chat with a knowing nod.

“Ew,” said Chloe, shaking her head. She stared at everything they had, a tiny frown playing on her lips, then snapped her fingers. “Salsa uses vegetables, right? Let’s just make a bunch of that.”

There were a lot of vegetables, but hey! More for them.

Rena went back to doing pushups. “Sure. Just make sure it isn’t white people stuff. Try asking for the recipe in Spanish.”

“Smart. Chat, can you look it up? I have dirt on my hands.”

Chat groaned as if she were asking him to do some great task and then stretched for his phone on the coffee table. He refused to leave the couch, so he ended up with his feet hooked over the arm of the couch for support as he stretched himself to the phone. He broke into a wide grin when he finally managed to grab it and then pulled himself back onto the couch.

It was probably more effort than just getting up a bit to grab it then sitting back down, but whatever.

He started typing, then he paused. “You guys know the Spanish word for salsa?”

Silence stretched between them as the two women looked at each other, trying to gauge whether or not he’d actually just asked that. Chat was steadily sinking into the couch as if hoping it would swallow him whole.

“The… the spanish word for salsa?” Repeated Rena.

“It -- I -- shut up!” He said. “Do you want salsa or not?”

Chloe snickered. “Sure. Can I see the recipe?”

He showed it to her and she squinted for a minute at all the words. Were some of them similar to French words? Yes. Was she completely sure about anything? Not at all.

She briefly considered asking Chat to translate everything for her, but she couldn’t. Not after she’d laughed at him for temporarily forgetting that salsa is salsa. He’d at least known the word for ‘recipe’ in Spanish, he had that over her.

Whatever. She’d guess. She’d had salsa before, surely that was enough to figure it out.

She started picking vegetables and after making sure to wash them off properly, they were set to start cooking.

Rena raised her eyebrows at the sink full of vegetables, opened her mouth to say something, snapped it shut. Her lips curved into a fox-like grin.

“What is it? I don’t like that smile,” said Chloe. She could feel that Rena was getting mischievous, she just couldn’t figure out why.

“Ah, don’t worry,” said Rena, waving her off as she pulled on an apron.

This worried Chloe more, but whatever.

“We don’t have a food processor or a blender, what do we do?” Said Chat, his eyes scanning the recipe.

“Just cut them real thin. It’ll be fine,” said Chloe with a vague wave of her hand.

She had a lot of confidence for someone who had never been in a kitchen in her life.

… It went great. Obviously.

The resident rich kids actually had been trying to be helpful, which kind of makes their failures worse in a way.

Chloe had been cutting tomatoes with the dull end of the knife for ten minutes before Rena had thought to look over and turn it around.

Chat had thought that it would be a good idea to chop jalapenos before onions and had rubbed jalapeno juice in his eye while trying to stop crying, which had not helped.

While Chat was attempting to get that out of his eyes without actually touching them, Chloe had taken up cutting onions. It was harder than she’d thought it’d be. The onion kept falling apart no matter how hard she tried to hold it together.

Chat had come back, eyes irritated and red, and started trying to cut tomatoes. This would have been fine if he could actually see the seeds enough to get them out.

… it was at this point that Rena had made them go sit down so she could just cook without a disaster happening every few seconds. She may have liked mayhem, but she actually wanted to eat some of the food they were working so hard for, so it was in her best interest to get them to just sit down at the kitchen table and watch.

A good while later Rena walked over. “I finished. Want to see?” She asked, her voice a little wobbly, as if she was on the verge of laughter.

Chloe squinted suspiciously at her before looking at the counter.

Ah. So that was what Rena’s mischievous smile had meant earlier.

They might have made about seven mixing bowls full of salsa (actually, it was more pico de gallo if you consider consistency, but that’s neither here nor there).

Chat groaned quietly. “Well, I hope Ladybug and Carapace really like salsa.”

“We don’t.”

The three problem children looked up to see Ladybug and Carapace leaning in the doorframe. Ladybug looked like she was fighting back her amusement, Carapace just looked tired.

Ladybug managed to pull herself back to her normal formalness as she crossed her arms over her chest. “According to the internet, salsa goes bad in about a week. I do expect that you won’t waste any.”

“Please help,” said a slightly distressed Rena. Their diets were SCREWED.

“Nope. This was your mistake,” said Carapace.

Oh, so NOW he has a backbone?

Ladybug gave Rena a cold look. “You should have told them.”

“... it was my miraculous’s fault.”

“Unfortunate,” said Carapace, unamused. He looked at the bowls on the counter and shook his head with a sigh. “Guess I need to go buy some tortilla chips for everyone.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @mialuvscats @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write

#do i have pico de gallo related trauma?? that's for me and the fifty people reading this to know #a miraculous tiktok account #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #carapace #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #rena rouge #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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murphslass · 4 years

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You’re The One That I Want

Chapter 1

Summary: after leaving Y/N that one night in tears, Eddie thinks maybe a more subtle approach would help.

Warnings: flirting, swearing, smoking, alcohol, kissing, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

It had been a week since the incident happened between Y/N and Eddie. What the fuck was wrong with him? He knew fully that he was a monster, but damn. His heart must be stone cold doing that to her. Eddie kept thinking about what he had done to his neighbor. This was difficult because he had some feelings in his body and thinking maybe he was going soft. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. All he has to do is swallow his pride and apologize while trying to exchange nice words was the hard part. Eddie was rude and selfish but he knew deep down this is what needed to be done. He took a deep breath and entered the apartment building. He made a fast B-Line to Y/N’s apartment. With a soft knock of his strong hand, he waited for Y/N to answer.

“Hello? Oh Eddie, is there something wrong?”

He eyed her as she answered the door. She wore casual clothes that hugged her curves and a dirty apron. She must be cooking.

“Could I come in?”

“Sure.”

She smiled as she opened the door wider for him. Eddie stepped in and could smell the food she was cooking in the air. She was beautiful, innocent, and could cook? She had to be his soon.

“I wanted to talk about what the fuck I did.”

“Oh...”

She looked down at her feet and blushed. That odd and yet weirdly exciting encounter. She intended to initiate the conversation but always failed because of her shy nature. Y/N could see Eddie struggling with his words. It was like it was first time apologizing.

“Fuck I just, look I’m not good at this apology bullshit.”

She looked up from the ground and slowly approached him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Even if you can’t say it, I know that you feel it and mean whatever it is you want to tell me.”

She approached him and went to hold his large hand in her own. She gave a grin up at him. Eddie felt nothing but confusion in his mind. Why the fuck was this girl so nice? Why wasn’t she afraid of him? And why does her touch make him feel so good? Giving his hand a squeeze before returning to the kitchen and cooking her food, Eddie stilled in his steps. As much as he would like to grab her and fuck her on the counter, he knew it was wrong. His fists clenched trying to control himself.

“I’m nearly done cooking, do you want to stay and eat?”

“Uh yeah. You need help with anything?”

“Oh no, it’s okay. You’re my guest so please just sit at the table.”

Eddie was still severely confused on how she was so nice to him. It was starting to make him angry. But he took a deep breath before he lost his cool and saw Y/N walking over to him with a plate of hot food. He was going to say something but saw the delicious meal placed in front of him.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

“Sure, ya got any beer?”

She nodded and brought over silverware and a cold bottle of beer.

“Enjoy!”

She said with the same genuine smile before eating. Eddie didn’t really care since given a free meal. And it was absolutely tasty, she knew how to make a good plate of spaghetti. He was hooked for sure. Eddie quickly finished his food and saw Y/N laughing.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

“Sorry, it’s just you’ve got sauce all over your mouth and mustache.”

She giggled and offered a napkin. Eddie took it with a frown and wiped his face. Wait a minute. Was Eddie really sitting here having dinner with an angel and enjoying being civil? He’s never done this with anyone, now his anger was getting to him. Eddie stood up and towered over her.

“Okay. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why aren’t you fucking scared of me?”

She sat confused and slowly stood from her seat and stared him in his eyes.

“Because I feel a connection with us. I don’t know what it is. But I feel like we need to be close.”

She said while letting out a sigh. Eddie stayed quiet and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. His body was tense as Y/N reached to touch his arm. His jaw clenched as he felt anger through his body. The first time a girl was actually nice and he was getting mad?

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Fuck no, that’s just all me. I gotta go before I do something bad.”

Before Y/N could say goodbye, Eddie rushed to exit again. His anger issues we’re probably going to kill him. He had steam to blow off. His costume was fit around his body as he scanned the streets for criminals. He’d rather be with Y/N but his emotions were out of control. A night of beating up random men doing shitty crimes and muggings, he had gotten stabbed. Great. His muscles all sore, bloody, and bruised. All Eddie wanted was to be home. Walking in the cold of the night hours and approaching his building felt like sweet relief. He sighed and reached for his key. Oh shit. It’s gone, he might of forgotten or just dropped it. He growled and punched the nearest wall.

“Fuck me.”

He sighed and began to buzz random people to let him enter but no one answered. This was just fantastic. Eddie almost gave up until he heard footsteps on the sidewalk.

“Oh my goodness! Eddie! Are you okay?”

His savior had arrived to his rescue. Y/N rushed to check over his various scars.

“Eddie this looks bad. Quick let’s go to my place, I need to clean you up.”

She said as she entered the building and led Eddie by his hand. At that moment he felt no pain or soreness, all he was worried about was Y/N. However she moved fast and ran hot water in her tub. Eddie stood confused on what she was even doing. Like why was she out so late?

“Okay Eddie, I ran you a hot bath to help soothe the muscles now please take off your clothes.”

“And here I thought you were shy.”

Y/N blushed and realized what she said. Even if Eddie’s body was feeling all sore and shit, he couldn’t pass up a way to flirt.

“Not in that way! I mean just get in the tub and I’ll help clean up your scars.”

He shook his and laughed as he stripped off his armor. Y/N left him to undress as she got fresh towels and her first aid kit. Eddie hesitated entering the tub as the water was warm but he desperately needed it since his body was covered in dirt and sweat. He sighed and dipped his body into the water. As soon as the water hit, he felt his muscles relax and a groan escaped his lips. His body felt so at ease and he felt relaxed. Eddie almost considered falling asleep but didn’t once Y/N came back into the room.

“You feeling any better?”

“Fuck yeah...”

He sighed as his arms rested to his sides and his eyes fell shut.

“Here, can I help you?”

She asked as she reached for soap and a wash cloth. He nodded and moaned as her hands clean his upper body. From his broad shoulders, to his chest, and even getting his back. Her hands worked magic as she cleaned him throughly. Then he bit his lip as her hands drifted to his stomach. His breath hitched as he cursed himself for getting hard. His lips releasing a light moan when her arm brushes over the tip. She looks and sees his very noticeable problem. Her cheeks flush red and her hand leaving the water.

“Uh it’s rather normal for that to happen. Most men who get cleaned tend to get excited.”

“It’s not that. A fucking sexy woman who I like is touching my body. That’s why I popped a fucking boner.”

He sighed as his hand ran over his face. He saw her frown and shook his head to his own outburst.

“I get it. It’s okay. Here just rinse off and put on a towel. We need to clean those wounds.”

She ran her fingers through his hair and left the bathroom. He quickly went to dry off and slipped a towel around his waist. Why was she so fucking nice? He saw her in the kitchen pouring water into a glass and approached her cautiously. Without much thought he hugged her body against his bare skin.

“Uh Eddie?”

“Please be mine.”

TAGLIST:

@ffakc

@negans-attagirl

@jonasdean02

@macsgurl

@littlebadgirly

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #jeffrey dean morgan fanfic #jeffreys thirst squad #jeffrey dean morgan smut #jeffrey dean morgan imagine #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x you #The Comedian #the comedian x reader #the comedian x you #edward blake #edward blake x reader #edward blake x you

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k-writesthings · 4 years

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Sparring (Levi x Reader)

Warnings: SFW-ish (Implied sex scene and mentions of the Devil’s Tango), cussing

Word Count: 2600 (What a satisfying number...)

“Jean, keep your arms up! Be ready to fight back. Eren, go for it!” I shouted over the grunts and cursing filling the training grounds. It was the tail end of our group sparring session. The sun glowed orange, hanging low in the sky. Small whispers of wind brushed across my shoulders, and a certain smell of grass and honeysuckle floated in the air. It was a gorgeous evening, and the perfect start to our monthly weekend off. All we had to do was finish this session, and then Levi and I would be free to have our alone time.

I longed for that rare time I had Levi all to myself. Usually, he was all work, all the time. He’d even work straight through his days off if I wasn’t there to remind him to relax. But I could see his demeanor change when he knew he could save his work for another time. He was more care-free, more spontaneously romantic, and even playful sometimes. Just imagining his adorable little smile, the kind he’d only show me, made my cheeks flush and my heart start to beat faster. I’d get that and more in just a couple hours.

I just had to finish this session.

“Ow! Jean! No head shots, I don’t need a concussion right now!” Eren yelled, dodging a close swing at his head from Jean, who scoffed at his complaint.

“Oh come on, Eren! You heal from worse in a matter of hours. How about you stop being a baby and come at me, shortie!” Jean taunted back, throwing his arms wide to further antagonize the hot-headed Titan-Shifter he was fighting. We hardly ever let these two fight. They were always overly aggressive and deviated from the exercise, often throwing dirt into each other’s eyes or making an unfair pass at the other’s crotch. Usually when it got that bad, Levi stepped in. Sometimes I even got involved, especially when Eren was far too angry. Jean didn’t heal like a Titan-Shifter, so those were the times we had to get him out of there.

Fortunately, neither had thrown any dirty blows, yet. But that didn’t stop Levi.

“Oi! Enough! Don’t make me come in there and kick your asses again.” He barked, prowling out of the barn where he was checking on the horses and coming to stand next to me. I smiled softly as I took in his perfect side profile. Levi looked especially handsome in the warm golden light, his inky black hair hanging in his eyes. But no matter how much I wanted to kiss him, he was very firm on his rules on public affection, especially while he was on “duty”. So I settled for reaching out and interlacing my pinky with his. He didn’t smile, but he did glance at me with a softened gaze. And that was enough for me.

Eren and Jean were still bickering as they finished their sparring, thankfully without any foul play. As they left the field, relief washed over my body. Finally, I could be alone with my lover. Levi fully grasped my hand, ready to yank me away. But before he could, a voice stopped us.

“Hey Captain! Corporal!” We both turned towards the voice. Connie was running towards us. He came to a skidding halt before us, smiled goofily and said, “You two should spar!”

A grin split across my face. As much as I wanted to get Levi alone, sparring could be fun. We haven’t done something like that since before the 104th joined the Scouts, and I wanted to see if I had even a sliver of a chance against him.

“No.” Levi told him firmly, trying to tug me away again.

“C’mon! We’ve never seen either of you spar before.” Connie insisted.

“You’ve seen us both take out Titans before. Sparring is much less exciting, trust me.” Levi was beginning to get annoyed, I could see it in his eyes.

“Levi,” I said as he turned to face me with that steely gaze of his. “It could be fun. It’s nothing serious.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? I’d like to see you try.” I challenged, punching him in the shoulder and shedding my long forest green military overcoat. Levi did the same and followed me to the sparring grounds.

The dispersing Scouts had gathered around again, pressing against the fence in preparation for the highly anticipated fight. I wasn’t entirely sure why this was such a big deal when we had fought Titans by the dozens, like Levi said, but I was willing to play along. We so rarely had dumb fun, it seemed like a great way to blow off some steam. And, it was a good excuse for Levi to touch me in public.

Levi stood in front of me, cravat gone, and got into his stance. “Ready?”

I copied him, smiling slightly. “Bring it on, Captain.”

Levi simply rolled his eyes and advanced on me, throwing a punch at my right shoulder, which I easily blocked. While his arm was extended from the punch, I used my angle to bring my left leg to land a kick to his side. He was caught off guard for a split second as the blow knocked him back, but quickly recovered. I caught his eyes as he squared up for another attack. They were sharp, dangerous even. His grey irises caught the light of the setting sun, causing them to flash threateningly. He paced slightly as he studied me. I felt like prey being stalked by a wild cat, every movement of mine charted, analyzed, and worked into how best to take me out. I must say, even I was scared of this predator. Luckily, I often found myself in his good graces, but I finally understood how Levi Ackerman looked to his enemies. And it was terrifying.

Levi rounded on me again, getting low to the ground, seemingly to sweep my feet out from under me. I backed up quickly, and aimed another kick for his shoulders, which were at the height of my hips. I had planned on knocking him over and pinning him that way, but of course nothing is that easy with Levi.

I realized he was faking me out just a second too late.

He caught my leg as I kicked, using the awkwardly balanced form of a ruined kick to throw my body to the ground chest first. I hit the dirt hard. Dust filled my mouth and eyes, but when I tried to cough, nothing happened. Panic rose in my stomach as I realized no oxygen was entering my body. The wind had been knocked from my lungs when that ass threw me. And now I couldn’t breathe. Tears began to stream down my face and my desperate hands flew to my throat. The sound of dry gasps filled my ears, only worsening my alarm. I knew I wasn’t going to suffocate, but that knowledge did nothing to help my paralyzed lungs start working again.

A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and flipped me onto my back as I continued trying to inflate my stupid fucking lungs. Levi stared down at me with concern bright in his eyes.

“(Y/N), don’t be aggressive with it. Try to draw breath slowly.” He told me, the calm tone of his voice a vast difference from the look on his face. I listened, trying to mimic the feeling of taking a deep breath. Suddenly, fresh oxygen flooded into my body, and I took gulping lungfuls as Levi massaged my ribs, just where my lungs would be. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, you asshole. You didn’t need to throw me that hard.” I responded, chuckling slightly to show him I wasn’t mad. “My mistake for trying to spar you.”

All at once, I realized the rest of the scouts were still watching us. I sat up with Levi’s help as he waved them away, telling them to go to dinner and enjoy their weekend. Jean and Connie stuck around for a bit longer, just to make sure I was okay. I told them I was and thanked them for their concern with a hug. I could tell neither had been hugged in a while when they stiffened beneath my touch before melting into the hug. Connie had tears in his eyes when I pulled away, and Jean looked rather sad as well. They didn’t say much after that and bid me and Levi a good night.

“Why’d you do that?” Levi asked as soon as the younger men were out of sight.

“They looked like they needed a hug.” I shrugged, clasping my hand in his and beginning our walk towards the Mess Hall.

We ended up getting back to our shared quarters about an hour later. The Mess Hall was relatively empty, likely due to most soldiers returning home for the weekend. Levi and I tried to eat quickly, but ended up talking to both Hange and Erwin. Hange wanted to know where Eren was going to be for the weekend, and that earned her a sharp glare and some choice words from Levi, basically telling her not to bug the poor kid on his weekend off. She simply smiled and left in a hurry. Next, Erwin wanted to talk to Levi about something regarding reports on some of the 104th recruits. He decided to fully explain his thought process before apologizing and telling Levi that he didn’t “need to think about that until Monday”. Which only set Levi on edge when we were supposed to be enjoying our time off. I practically had to drag him back to our room so he wouldn’t go ask Erwin for further details on the reports.

And then he sat at his desk and looked over reports anyway.

“Levi,” I called from our bedroom, where I was currently getting ready to sleep. “Come to bed. The reports can wait.”

“In a second…” He murmured back, obviously not listening to anything I was saying. I huffed and rolled my eyes. Some start to our weekend off…

Then, I got an idea. One that was sure to get him to pay attention to me.

Trying to hide my intentions, I walked back into the office area where Levi was sitting at his desk. He was scanning over a document that I didn’t particularly care to identify as I glided behind him. I ran my hands from the tops of his shoulders down to his chest, where I traced shapes. My mouth ended up ghosting along his jaw, leaving small kisses or the occasional nip as I followed his sharp bone structure. Under my touch, I felt him tense slightly, trying to stay focused on the work he shouldn’t be doing.

“Levi…” I breathed into his ear once I finished my attack on his jaw. “Worry about this on Monday, I think I need to get an apology for how badly you beat me earlier.” I smirked and untangled myself from him, hoping he believed what I wanted him to. “I’ll be in bed.” I told him, sauntering around the corner once again.

I had only just sat on the bed when Levi walked into the room. His cheeks were flushed and he looked focused, just not on his reports. I knew my words and actions had done the trick. He threw me a predatory glance (not unlike I had seen on the sparring field earlier) and turned around to begin removing his work clothes rather slowly, allowing me a bit of a show.

Stepping into some sweatpants, he flexed the rippling muscles on his back, no doubt to really get me in “the mood”. But I knew my objective and had to see it through without distractions, just like the good soldier I was trained to be.

I launched my assault just before he turned around.

“What the-” He began as I wrapped my arms around his waist, but was quickly cut off when I threw our combined weight backwards onto the bed. I quickly flipped us so I was straddling him. It goes without saying that he was pissed.

“Hi, baby.” I purred, grappling against him as he tried to throw me off of his hips.

“(Y/N), what the fuck?” Levi growled, his blush completely gone. I gripped his wrists where his fingertips were digging into my hips. He had stopped fighting back, and was now glowering up at me with his beautiful eyes.

“I just wanted payback for earlier, you know, when you threw me so hard I couldn’t breathe.” I tore his hands from my hips and attempted to push them up and over his head. He didn’t let me. “Figured I would pin you and make it all better, but it seems that I’ve bruised your fragile ego.”

He let out an annoyed sigh. “I apologized for that, and you didn’t bruise anything, shithead.”

“Ooh, toilet humor already? Why, Levi, you flatter me!”

“Get off of me, you behemoth.”

I giggled, stretching out on top of him and touching our noses together. “Hmm… No, I don’t think I will. If you’re just going to lay there, why shouldn’t I make myself comfy too?”

He leaned his chin up and nipped at my lower lip. “You get up now, and I will still sleep with you tonight. Otherwise, no sex for a week.” Empty threats now, huh?

“That’s okay, I wasn’t in the mood anyway. I was just looking to get you all horned up so I could tease you like this.”

Levi’s eye twitched and he finally snapped. With a growl, he threw me off of him and was back above me in a flash.

“Fine, you want to pin me? Go for it.” He uttered, hot breath against my neck and chest as he peppered kisses along my skin. He was trying to get me in the mood.

But I had expected this and would not be persuaded to give in.

I pulled my wrists from his reach and snaked them around his torso, pulling his chest down towards me. Two could play at this game. I also started sucking and biting at his throat, quickly finding the one spot below his Adam’s apple that makes him very vocal. The soft groans began to pour out of him, and soon enough he pulled back.

“That’s cheating, you can’t just-,” I cut him off with my lips, sitting up to connect our them and roll him onto his back from where he was straddling me. Levi grunted into the kiss, wrapping his legs around mine and holding my arms to my sides. He held me fast, and at first I thought he was being cute. But he held me roughly, like a captor. I broke the kiss and sighed, realizing my predicament.

I was completely incapacitated and he won again.

“I hate that you can do this to me.” I grumbled, resting my head against his bare chest. He chuckled, which made me smile.

“Maybe we should spar more often.”

“Maybe I should learn how to tie a good knot.”

“You are NOT tying me up.”

“We’ll see…”

My limbs were released and I was yanked up to his eye level. Levi gave me his best “you better fucking not” scowl and I simply pressed a kiss to his nose.

“Now,” My leg nestled it’s way into between his. “What was this about sleeping with me?”

( Hi, so I haven’t posted anything in a week. I am so sorry. And on top of that this was completely unrequested. Uhmmmm... wow, I’m awful. I do have a request that has been sitting in my inbox that I’m going to get out before Halloween, and then a couple others I want out before Thanksgiving. I can and will do it, trust me! Anyway, I hope everyone has a great Halloween! Thank you for the wonderful support, I love you all!!)

#snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot #attack on titan #aot x y/n #aot x reader #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fluffy #self indulgence at its finest #also a bit of a social experiment because I think Levi x Reader will always get more notes lmao

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watchtower-feed · 4 years

Text

Death Do We Part (Part 7)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Notes: This is turning out to be a slow burn fic and I’m sad. I’m going to sneak in some fluff in the next part. Words: 2,354

Bruce glares down at her, “Where’s Jason?”

Talia’s eyes narrow in sadness and she closes them as she shakes her head. “He betrayed the League. He killed them all.”

Before she could even finish her words, you’re already lifting up your knees to hide your face.

“He’s gone, beloved.”

Jason stares at the ceiling in his room, absentmindedly caressing his arms, finally wondering if he’ll ever see your words on his arms again. After what happened, what he did, he expected you to write strings of profanities and some words of disappointment or sadness. He at least expected a strong punch in the gut but all he’s received is silence.

He’s drowning in the silence of his room. The silence of his days and nights. The silence even the wind brings in the desert. So many times he’s found himself clutching the fountain pen but never dipping it in the ink bottle. Only hovering its tip over his skin. He knows he’s done something extremely wrong and he can never redeem himself.

But then he thinks, why does it matter? Just because you were born with the link, doesn’t mean anything. He thinks that every time he gets knocked down in training. He considers it while he watches his wounds bleed and stain his clothes. He thinks of you whenever he coughs blood into his palms.

He can’t say sorry. He knows how but he doesn’t want to. He tells himself he needs this. These little bouts and drills are necessary for the future he wants, a future without his murderer. He’s just not sure if he wants you in it. Or if you’ll want him.

Frustrated, Jason rubs his head, messing up his hair, and locks himself in his room without dinner. He closes his windows, turns off the lights, and lies still on his bed. He shuts his eyes and takes one last deep breath before numbing his body to the cold air in his room and the soft cotton bed.

The first thing he feels from you is warmth. Then there’s a cackle like fire eating away at a piece of wood. He can feel the heat on his face and palms and he can almost see you sitting in front of the large fireplace at the manor.

He focuses on his auditory senses but doesn’t hear anything, just the fire and wood softly echoing in the room. Then he hears the large wooden door slowly open along with a voice he hasn’t heard in years.

“Y/N.” He can hear his father. His voice is so gentle and wary. Jason wonders if he used that voice to whisper apologies to his own dead body when he found him. “Dick called me because you weren’t answering his calls.”

“Oh. I left my phone in my room.”

Your voice still floods every fiber in Jason’s body. His body shivers, almost breaking his concentration. He hasn’t heard your voice for the longest time and it’s only now that he realizes how much he misses it.

“I’ll tell him.” Jason doesn’t hear the wooden door close. Only the crackling fire continues to fill the room with sound. “I’m not going to ask you what happened but I want you to know that you can always talk to me about it. It may not seem like it but I am a good listener.”

Jason almost wants to laugh with joy. For a moment, he’s happy that Bruce is taking care of you. Treating you with as much care and sympathy as he did for him.

“Do you…” Jason feels you nibbling on your lips before you continue speaking, “Is there a way to get rid of a soulmate link?” you whisper.

Jason suddenly feels whiplashed. His body has gone stiff with his mouth open and his brows furrowed, creasing close together at the center.

“It’s not the bruises or the bleeding-- It’s just---”

Bruce waits a few more seconds before prodding, “Just?”

“Just,” you reply with finality. “Thank you, Bruce. I’ll go ahead and text Dick.”

Jason feels the warmth of the fire disappear from your face.

“Y/N, after we find Jason, I’ll help you find a way. If that’s still what you want.”

Jason doesn’t hear you reply. After a moment, the next thing he feels is soft cotton on his face, warm tears on his cheeks, and nothing else for the rest of the night. When Jason wakes up, his own eyes are strained and tears have dried up on his own cheeks.

“You seem distracted,” Talia frowns as he scrutinizes Jason who quickly goes defensive.

“I’m not.”

Talia doesn’t say anything but she keeps watching him throughout the day. The extra pair of eyes on him during training does not help him feel any better. He’s making mistakes he wouldn’t have as Robin and he keeps glaring at Talia until she leaves with a huff.

Finally done for the day, Jason takes a stroll around the compound, something he’s taken to doing ever since you stopped writing. He wants to be sure he knew every nook and cranny of the place where he’s being held.

One of his favorite spots was an empty well half-concealed by foliage. He believes it’s directly under one of the tunnels connecting the fortress into the sacred city, a tunnel off-limits to assassins in training, so he’s been toiling his restless nights digging away at it absently-mindedly.

“We may need to bring the soulmate in.”

Talia’s calculating voice floats down the well as her shadow looms over Jason. He quickly panics but notices that Talia has her back turned to the well. Jason quickly flattens himself against the wall directly closest to Talia and Ra’s Al Ghul and slows down his breathing.

“He still thinks we don’t know about the link. It could be our last chance to keep the boy in our control.”

Ra’s grunts, “You know as well as I do how much more difficult that contingency plan is.”

“Yes. My beloved has taken in a new ward. But we both know he’s not training Y/N. She’s still an easy target.”

Jason grit his teeth. Your name passing through Talia’s lips does not sit well with him, especially the implication of what they have planned for you. What they’ve always planned for you.

Ra’s is quiet for a while. A distant call catches both of their attention. “If the boy continues to fare poorly, then we may revisit this discussion.”

Jason doesn’t go back to his room. Fueled by anger, frustration, and a grave sense of panic, he stays inside the deep well. After hours pacing back and forth in the darkness, forcing his breathing to calm down unsuccessfully, he stomps and jumps in anger inside the well. The dirt floor muted his feet but it cracked under his weight.

A small patch of earth gave way and Jason fell through. He landed on hard ground in what seemed to be a man-made tunnel. The very tunnel he’s been digging to see.

Then everything clicks inside his head. Quick-thinking and resourceful, like a true Robin. Jason looks up through the hole until he finds the moon halfway to its apex and estimates what time it is. From what he’s heard from the other assassins, the city is only an hour ride away from the fortress so he might just have enough time to run there and back before his morning training.

Eth Alth'eban was a small city filled with priest warriors. They valued their faith and religion above everything. They prided themselves as people of great devotion and resilience. While the League of Assassins saw them as an obstacle over the land where the new Lazarus pit can thrive.

It took one week for the League to completely bring the sacred city down. Less than that to completely break down the citizens’ wills and only four days to corrupt half of their souls.

Human trafficking. That was the new-age problem the League had employed to completely eradicate a city of devotion and resilience. They kidnapped their children, and then their women, and sold them to the next cities over. Once they fought their warriors, they were so enraged, they’ve lost all reason and that’s when the League had the upper hand.

They defeated them but didn’t kill them. They fought the warriors of Eth Alth'eban until they were on their knees begging for mercy. Blood running down their face and saliva spitting from their mouth every time they pleaded. The assassins took one look at them and then walked away.

That was their mistake. Once Jason had made it to the city, he immediately locates a small resistance of young people, children of the warriors the League had shamed. Without caution but with complete determination, he strides up to them with his hands up and states his purpose clear and loud.

They stare at him like he’s crazy. Jason thinks he is crazy. But there’s no time and he knows what they want and how to make them agree. The group look at each other in question until the tallest one finally speaks.

“If what you say is true, how do you expect us to go up against the League of Assassins in one night?”

Jason grins, finally getting somewhere, much sooner than he thought. “We’re going to need guns. Lots of it.”

A few months later, Jason stands front and center, surrounded by assassins and stared down by Ra’s Al Ghul. It’s one of those nights where a training member is given the chance to challenge a fully-fledged assassin. If they pass, it’s a sign that they no longer need training and they have achieved their first kill.

The League is in shock when Jason walks past the assassins, the elite members, and stands right in front of Ra’s. By League tradition, only a blood-relative or a betrothed can challenge Ra’s, a fight for the position of the Demon Head.

Jason chuckles, “I’m just messing with you.” He laughs boisterously as the room goes sour. Some of the young assassins try to stifle their snickers but Ra’s, Talia, and the elite members are not amused.

“Do you think this is funny? Is the League truly a joke to you?” Talia snaps at him.

Jason doesn’t look at her. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” He turns around to look at the full number of the League. He turns to the shadows in the darkness, counting the silhouettes surrounding the premises overhead. Absentmindedly he replies, “I was trying to get out of the way.”

Bullets rain down like hellfire. Ra’s shouts orders. Talia pulls out her sword. But Jason is faster and he shoots both of them in the chest before they could even take a step toward him. He shoots them two more times along their torso and doesn’t wait for the youth of Eth Alth'eban to finish fulfilling their lifelong dream of vengeance.

Jason sneaks away and finally escapes the fortress that has held him and shaped him for a whole year. The League of Assassins are bad guys, villains, but their methods are right. How can evil truly leave Gotham if Batman never stops it from breathing?

Jason’s first destination is home, smuggling himself aboard a cargo ship and slipping into the city under the Bat’s radar. He doesn’t go straight to Wayne manor even though his feet are itching to come running to you. To his home.

“So close yet so fucking far,” he whispers to himself as he waits for another night of darkness to veil the city and deafen it with sirens. He has been waiting for one big villainous operation that can distract the Bats for a few hours. He plans on going to Wayne manor and take you with him, away from Gotham and go anywhere in the world.

Finally, from the surveillance he’s planted at every exit of the cave, he sees them leave at the same time, leaving you and Alfred in the manor. Jason still knows the property like the back of his hand and uses the shadows and blind spots to make his way toward the back entrance.

He suddenly stops when he sees you on a balcony, the balcony of his room. Your arms are crossed. Your eyes are staring directly ahead at the horizon of the foggy and blurry Gotham skyline.

“It’s warmer tonight. Did you find a better place?”

At first, Jason thinks you saw him.

“I bet you hated the sand getting in your hair and on your face,” you chuckle softly. “I stopped getting seasick so I’m guessing you’ve finally arrived… wherever it is you’re trying to get to.”

Jason slowly crouches down beneath the balcony, pressing his back against the brick wall and straining his ears to hear you better, letting your voice replenish him like an oasis in the desert.

“Dick thinks you’re here. In Gotham. That’s why they’ve been out there every single night. Scouring the city for you. Hoping you’re not injured. Hoping you’re fine. Hoping you haven’t completely turned to the dark side...”

You pause for a breath and your voice sounds different when you speak next. Quiet. Sadder. “I hope you’re not injured. I hope you’re well. I also hope you’re not here.”

Jason closes his eyes and leans his head against the wall, searing pain tearing through his chest.

“After what you did, Jason… Bruce thinks the first thing you’ll do in Gotham is kill the Joker.”

Your next words come in an even softer voice, almost strained, “Then maybe Tim…”

Jason opens his eyes. All relief has been washed away from his body. Why don’t you think he’ll see you first?

“I hope he’s wrong. I hope you decided to leave this life and choose a better one. You’ve always been scrappy, Jason. You can achieve anything you put your mind to.”

Jason hears you sigh along with the shiver that goes through your body.

“I don’t know if you’re listening this time. I felt you listening before, sometimes when I’m at the fireplace, or down in the cave, or pretending to be asleep… If you’re listening now, and if you’re in Gotham City… turn back. Take this second chance. Find a new purpose--”

Jason’s heard enough. He slams the wall with his fist and rushes from the shadows until he’s off the property.

You’re startled. You quickly scan the property for any movement but you just miss the figure retreating into the distance. Back into Gotham City.

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

#ssa #superhero soulmate au #DC fanfiction #DC imagines #DC reader insert #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd imagine #Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood imagine #Red Hood fanfiction #Red Hood x reader #watchtower-feed #atbucud #jason todd #red hood

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greatcheesiness · 4 years

Text

Hope: MSBY

Synopsis: In which a shooting star decided to make their prayers come true…

Characters: Atsumu/Sakusa/Hinata/Bokuto/Child! Y/n (little cameo) They’re all the same age except Y/n.

Genre: Angst, hopeful, Sad, a bit haunting at the end idk how that happened, mysterious, fate

W.c: 2k9

Moral of the story: Don’t think like this kids. Life is very valuable tsk.

[a/n] pfft I’m back y’all. Y’all missed me? Lmao no one asked. I have arrived with another short piece to satisfy your masochistic selves. I had no Wi-Fi and I thought I wasn’t gonna live a normal life. I was also a lazy bean who promised to work out but ended up eating Danish bread. They’re really good ngl. I did not proofread this so I am sorry for the errors. Sleep deprived again. I didn’t proofread this, sorry.

edit: this is a repost. I don’t think this was sent properly.

Little sparks emerged from the blazing mixture of red and orange. The colour of fiery and passion. But in the middle, there was a vibrant colour of yellow. Even if a person is angry and the things they do will not go as passionate, there’s always a little bit of hope. That was what Sakusa interpreted as he observed the fire. The ashy smoke floated upward into the sky and turned invisible where they will not be seen again. That is what they want, right? Just to die out...

“I’m going to find some more wood,” Bokuto said out of the blue and stood up from the barky log he just sat on. Hinata got a fright that he almost fell off of his side of the log. Bokuto then ran towards the darkened woods. Hinata’s eyes widened. He scuttled backwards and jogged into the woods, just to make sure he doesn’t wander off. Just to make sure he’s safe.

“Kotaro, wait up!” he shouted and the woods mimicked his voice of worry. It was a cold night. A blanket of navy covered the sky with a sprinkle of shimmering stars.

“I hope they don’t get lost. I heard that this is the largest forest in our area or perhaps the whole country,” the blonde head muttered. His fingers fiddling on to silver key necklace dearest to his heart. It was a gift given by his grandma just the day before her decease. That day felt like the day he lost a true friend. Sakusa stared into the sky. To become one of those shiny sequences high up the vast navy.

Small, slender, slim sticks were thrown into the fire by Atsumu. His eyes granted no mercy as he stared at them burning in the little hell he created. Sakusa could see the reflection of the fire in his chocolate eyes. Knowing the reason, he sighed. It conveyed his feelings. His pent up fury.

The long silence was interrupted by a trivial question. “Have you ever thought of what you want to become as you grow older?” Atsumu wondered. He had never really heard or knew much about Sakusa despite having each other’s presence in existence for a while. He blinked, his long lashes brushed through the air. “I don’t know,” he simply replied. His voice so curt that Atsumu’s feelings were hurt. He clutched his heart with a pain expression to emphasise the dramatic. “Omi kun, y’know that’s not the answer I want,” he whined at him. There he goes again, Sakusa thought.

Atsumu hummed as he looked at the fire “Y’know.., it has always been my dream to become an astronaut. What do ya think Omi kun?” Sakusa scrunched his face at the thought. “What should I think??” The only responsive thought he had for that confession was that it was unbelievable to be true. He thought he wanted to become a volleyball player and join the national team. Maybe get the hot girlfriend of his dreams while he’s at it. But an astronaut? Does he even have the grad-?

“Haha if only I had the grades. I can see it right through you Omi kun,” he smirked as he pointed the stick at him held by his fingers. “To bad I’m not a smartass like my twin brother. Such a nerd without glasses,” he murmured at the mentions of his twin.

“Achieving high grades doesn’t make you a stereotypical ne-“

“I said what I said, Omi kun. I said what I said”

Sakusa stayed quiet after that. He had nothing else to add after that mild conversation. His eyes lingered at the book lying on the grassy ground. Atsumu’s five year old diary. To this day, he still remembered the contents inked in those pages. Hinata and Bokuto saw them as well. He pitied Atsumu, but dared not to speak a word of it. In that diary, Atsumu undergone what you call affliction. Even now, it still disturbed them.

Beside them, they set up a telescope that they had recently bought. They got it after dodging that expensive price. Bokuto’s bargaining skills were useful. The trees waved side to side with the gusting wind. Sakusa’s dark curls wavered. They’ve always wanted to see the stars together. Earlier this day, they heard from the news that there was going to be a shooting star passing earth. It was very exciting as no one would ever expect to see something like this in their time of life.

There was a lot of things around their temporary property. Tents set up, sleeping bags, coats, stocks of food and drinks, you name it. They fully decided that they would never ever come back home. All of them hated where they came from. It just wasn’t for them.

At around five or six in the evening, the four of them were in school cleaning up toilets and classrooms. This was Sakusa’s nightmare. His duty was in the boys’ toilet. All the grime, stench, dirtiness tainted each cubicle he entered. He felt like regurgitating, but if he was going to faint, at least faint outside the bathroom. Nonetheless, he pushed through this hell and managed it somehow.

Suddenly, a burning smell wavered through the air and entered his nostrils, sending him to alarm. He rushed out of the boys’ bathrooms. His eye’s enlarged at the sight of flames eating the corridors. His mouth gaped as he stood petrified. What in the world?

Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from danger. Sakusa turned around to see it was Bokuto. His heart was racing as he tried to process what the fuck just occurred. “Kotaro, what on earth is going on?!” He didn’t answer for a while until they’ve reached outside the burning school.

“It was Atsumu’s doing. He threw a cigarette in the bin and the bin caught on fire!” Bokuto used his arms to demonstrate the fire. Sakusa glared at Atsumu and grabbed him by the collar. “I know you hate this fucking place, but did you have to fucking burn down the school!?” Atsumu shoved him away from him. “So what if I fucking did?!” Sakusa’s eyes were filled with anger. Who goes to this extent from hatred? Especially from a teenager.

“You… YOU BASTARD!” he cursed at his selfishness. A punch swung onto Atsumu’s face and he fell to the ground in an instant. The blond head swiped the blood off his busted lips and gave him a deadly glare. Oh if looks could kill…He collided into Sakusa causing him to cough out his saliva. Therefore, a dog fight transpired between them. Sakusa had no care for the dirt sticking on to him as his only goal was to knock some god damn sense into Atsumu’s brain.

Hinata panicked and attempts to pull Atsumu away while Bokuto did the same for Sakusa. “Look we tried to extinguish it with a fire extinguisher! But it…it just wouldn’t work at all!” Hinata explained while he still held onto Atsumu. Sakusa’s brows furrowed. “Then what the fuck did you do then?” All three of them looked at each other. “We ditched it,” Bokuto shrugged his shoulders “It would go out”

Sakusa groaned in his clammy palms. Oh my fucking god…Since this happened, what’s gonna happen to them? Will they all get in to trouble? Obviously. Should they just mention that it was Atsumu’s fault and he shall bear the consequence? Or should all of them step out and stay along with the blond retard? Everyone remained quiet. Sirens were heard and police cars and fire brigade were approaching their way.

“Do you just want to go home and pack our stuffs secretly? We can buy that telescope we all wanted and watch the shooting star that’s coming tonight….”

And that’s how they ended up here, in the meadow deep into the woods where no one will find them. If they decided to give up on them, just like how the others would. Sakusa admitted that it was a beautiful scenery. Atsumu and he didn’t fight anymore. What’s done has been done. Everything happens for a reason.

Hinata and Bokuto arrived with more sticks cradled in their arms. They were dropped onto the beryl green grass. After that, Hinata plopped down and his chest heaving up and down “Oi no more. I’m tired from running around,” he waved his hand at him without looking at Bokuto. The owl-like man plastered a huge grin on his face “You lack strength, Chibi chan. C’mon toughen up those muscles,” Bokuto wacked his shoulders that sent Chibi forward. They laughed. Only the corner of Sakusa’s lips curved.

Boys in pain come together to diminish those pains.

A spark occurred in the middle of the dark sky. Hinata noticed this first and mirthfully swore “Guys I see it!” All of them ran to the telescope, even having little arguments of who should go first. It ended up being Atsumu. The rest of them quietened down and all they could do was admire. It was absolutely spectacular without a doubt. Not only was one shooting star but there a shower of them. A celebration perhaps?

“There’s so many of them! We should make a wish,” Hinata encouraged. All of them clasped their hands together with their eyes closed. Sakusa joined and he wished that he would have a happy life. That was all he wanted.

“Atsumu…”

“……”

“Atsumu… is that other shooting star approaching us or am I losing my mind?” Hinata asked worriedly. His knees shook like jelly. “Atsumu...” His body quivered with uncontrollable nervousness. Atsumu didn’t say anything back but gulped. “Well aren’t you going to answer us?” Bokuto asked with a lump in his throat.

Sakusa gazed up, following the track of the star before it split into two after crashing a certain part of the atmosphere. He knew. Everyone knew, that it was bound to reach them any minute.

“Will be able to get out of here in time?” Bokuto asked fretfully, brushing his hands through his grey strands. It wouldn’t be called a shooting star anymore. It was meteorite. The little thing drew closer and closer each time they blinked.

They just knew they wouldn’t make it out in time…

Atsumu sighed. “I’m staying here. I have nothing in this world to live for,” he gazed up and muttered as salty essence well up his chocolate eyes. He said it quietly, yet it was enough to be understood. He walked around a log and sat down with his head hung low. It was getting closer. Hinata swiftly sat beside him with his arms wrapped around him. His eyes closed “I’m staying with you. Staying with you until the end. Who knows we might end up somewhere beautiful. A magical land called Us”

When he said those words, a tear rolled down from Sakusa’s glistening ebony orbs. All of them wanted that. For a long time. A magical land called Us. This world gave them so much pain to the point that they had to imagine a wonderful world.

Bokuto, who used to use happiness to shield his sadness, embraced the both of them. The three of them cuddled. Some sniffles and sobs were heard from their trembling lips. Sakusa patted the left side of his chest. He was breathing quite heavily. This was most emotion he had ever displayed. All of them turned their heads to face him. Atsumu’s arm stretched out. He smiled wearily “Come with us”

A lot of thought rushed through his mind. His head went racing. Was this the right choice? Was this what he wanted? What he if he still want to liv-

Before he could move a muscle, a bright, yellowish light flared behind them. His eyes reflected the light. Everything happened so fast and after that, they…. vanished. Long forgotten in this world.

“A lot of things have happened during this week. Firstly, the “shooting star” also known as a meteorite, crashed in the meadow of (xxx) wood, the largest in this country. No one has expected this phenomenon to split into two and destroy so much nature. Even almost damaging some parts of nearby towns. Another talked about topic, is the burned down school at (xxx) province with four boys that attended that school, missing…”

The little girl watched the enormous meteorite from afar. “Wah it’s huge,” she said as she dangled her tiny little legs. An ice cream was in her hands as she watched the workers inspecting the rock. Maybe they could extract minerals and become filthy rich. She took a lick of the ice cream. The wind was howling that evening. She enjoyed a vanilla ice cream during cold season.

“Y/n, come here!”

Her mother yelled. Y/n shouldn’t be out in the open. It was too dangerous, who knows what will happen. Y/n stood up from the edge of a cliff and admired the amber sky before realizing her ice cream dropped to the ground. Her mouth gaped in disbelief. She paid for that using her own money by collecting reusable garbage for hours. She exhaled and tossed the cone away.

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming mom. I’m coming,” she called back. She dusted her hands off her skirt and jogged on. There was a valley close by so she needed to be cautious otherwise she might roll off the cliff and that wouldn’t be good. However, as she took another step, her foot slipped and her face fell flat on the ground. Blood dripped down from her nostrils. “Great…”

Luckily for her, she had an extra packet of tissue deep in her pocket. She took a tissue out and wiped the blood off that dried. All of a sudden, from the corner of her eyes, she caught something shining in the grass. Curiosity aroused her and she moved closer to the object. Mother told her that she shouldn’t take or even touch something that’s not hers. It could bring bad luck.

Y/n didn’t remember her mother’s words when she picked it up. It was a silver necklace that took the shape of a key. “Wow…” she mumbled. It had a simple design to it, yet to her it was the most beautiful thing she had seen that day. The wind blew even harder as the wind whistled.

“Y/n! If you don’t come this instant, I will leave you here,” her mother called out for what seemed like the last time. Y/n shoved the object into her pocket and rushed to her parent. She shuddered. How cold was it? She wrapped her arms around her and rubbed for heat.

“Y/n, what happened to your nose?”

“I just fell”

“That’s karma for not listening to me for the first time. I just fell”

“MOM”

So this was what the afterlife looked like? It looked the same as their world, yet maybe more magical. In this world, there was only the four of them and no one else. It had everything they needed. It was tranquilized. The trees consisted of wisteria. All of their stuff that they had with them before their very last breaths was placed exactly the same way, same place. However, the boys weren’t there.

A burning door stood in the middle of the meadow. All of them watched it, sitting down with bittersweet smiles on their faces. Was it worth it after all? Atsumu was the first one to hop off his position and run out into the wild. His appearance changed. He took the form of a little boy and had a book about stars in his hands. Ten years of age. The last time he felt a sense of happiness before all crashed down. Hinata turned back to a fifteen year old and Bokuto, a twelve year old. It made Sakusa feel old. He remained the same after all their transformations. A seventeen year old.

The last time he felt happy was just a few months ago. Despite that, he never really intended to die. It was just a last minute wish he made that he regretted. He believed to have many things to do on his bucket list. It was too late somehow and he thought that this new life wasn’t bad after all. He could maybe tick them all of in this afterlife.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a necklace. His brows furrowed at it and he leaned forward to capture it. Now it laid on his palm and began his inspection. It was an open door with no handle… He gulped. What was the meaning of this? If he was being honest, Atsumu didn’t have his grandma’s necklace with him. He started connecting the dots.

The fire stopped burning the door. He looked up and moved backwards. It was dark and the atmosphere couldn’t be anymore spookier. He whimpered and started to shake.

A little girl clad in a ripped strawberry dress. Her shoes dirtied. Her skin pale as snow. Her hair in a dishevelled state and her eyes were the worst. They were fully pitch black. And before Sakusa knew it, he ran as fast as he could and…

…never turned back.

The shooting star, after all, just granted their wishes. Without them knowing the consequences…

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyu x reader #hq atsumu #hq hinata #bokuto x reader #sakusa x reader #y/n #atsumu x reader #hinata shoyuo #bokuto #atsumu #msby sakusa #msby black jackal

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

Link

Incorrigible

Words: 4,114 Warnings: Food, Child Endangerment, Horror Elements, Knives, Fire, Demons/Monsters, Destruction, Betrayal, Complex Morals, Villainy Characters: Virgil, Remus, Janus, Remy Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Found Family Additional Tags: Chaos and Arson

notice: this series takes prompts/asks to lead it

♪ Incorrigible Playlist ♪

“Remus, don’t set the couch on fire, the food is almost here,” Janus ran their hand through their hair as they watched Remus pointing his palm at the couch and staring intensely.

“Oh, it is? Cool,” Remus hopped up from sitting on the couch delightedly, holding his hand on the back for balance.

“Who cares if he sets it on fire?” Virgil pouted, squatting on the floor while his eyes followed Remus bouncing on the spot.

“You had an episode last time he set a fire in the couch, Virgil, and that’s considerably more destructive than the fire,” Janus explained gently and squatted down to look at Virgil in the eye.

“I can deal with it better now,” Virgil replied, looking away and pulling at his pointer finger. He twisted at it and stared at the floor.

“Liar,” Remus shot and leaned off the couch to ruffle Virgil’s hair. Virgil peered up at him and pouted angrily and held his finger over his lips.

“Go play in the yard until the food gets here. You can start fires out there where Virgil can’t accidentally destroy my things. There is a car out back you haven’t fully eradicated,” Janus explained, holding out a hand for Virgil. Virgil took it carefully, and Janus helped him off the floor.

“I thought one of Remus’s demons ate it,” Virgil stated, peering to the back door.

“It’s chewed up but still present. I’ll get you a school bus to wreck next time if you keep your rooms picked up for a week,” Janus smiled and walked to the exit.

“Yeah!” Virgil cheered with his arms in the air. “Fuck school!” He cried victoriously and hopped as they left the sitting area.

“Woo!” Remus roared and tumbled off the rear of the couch to follow them. Janus held open the back door, and Virgil and Remus barreled into the yard. Remus created a giant boar demon with tentacles of black goop, which started thrashing around the car. Janus leaned against the house and watched them play. Virgil stayed back nervously while the boar demolished the sedan.

“Share with your brother,” Janus ordered, and the boar stopped attacking the vehicle and ran up to Remus instead. It picked up Remus and set him on its back. Remus had a ring of black goo around his torso from the contact and played with it between his fingers.

“Go for it, Virgey!” Remus said, clapping and then being distracted by the lines of goop between his palms when he pulled away. He clapped a few more times to play with the goop.

“I dunno, what if I can’t control it again?” Virgil grumbled with an ashamed expression. He shoved his hands into his pocket and kicked at the dirt.

“We’re here to help. It’s better to use it than let it build up,” Janus responded reassuringly. Virgil chewed his lip for a moment before turning to the crunched up sedan. Thick black shadows engulfed the car and in a twisting motion. The shadows shifted into a beast with thousands of eyes, and there was a strident crunching sound that echoed through the air. Virgil raised his hand shakily, and the demon disintegrated, leaving behind crushed and decimated parts of a machine where it once stood.

“I did it!” Virgil beamed and leaped up and down with his fists balled in excitement.

“Good job, Virgil,” Janus clapped with a light smile. Virgil made a proud expression and stood up straighter. He dusted off his shirt and beamed at Janus.

“Race me!” Remus challenged from on top of the boar, waving at Virgil with gooey hands.

“You always cheat!” Virgil shot angrily, the proper posture disappearing in an instant. Virgil curled into his regular slouch and glared at Remus.

“It’s not cheating if there’re no rules!” Remus crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue.

“Give Virgil a head start,” Janus demanded, offering them a compromise.

“That’s not fair,” Remus whined. Virgil closed his eyes and strained for a minute. Smoke rose from the earth and condensed into an iridescent dragon with eight eyes. The dragon roared and stretched out its wings. Virgil leaned to the side to examine it anxiously, confirming it wasn’t rouge before he mounted it and held its neck for balance.

“There’s no fairness with no rules, either. He’s younger than you, and needs the help occasionally,” Janus reminded Remus, walking up to the snarling angry boar and Remus on top of it. The dragon strode over towards the boar and Virgil watched the beast with concern. “I’m sure you’ll do fine even with a head start. Both of you keep it to the ground, please,” The boar stopped growling and Remus nodded with a delighted face.

“’Kay,” Virgil and Remus called out as the boar and dragon stampeded over to the mangled remains of the car.

“3-2-1, Go, V!” Remus barked, and the dragon bolted off, Virgil gripping tight with a determined expression. “3-2-1, Go, me!” Remus yelled, and the boar charged off. They dashed across the yard, yelling at each other as obstacles appeared and disappeared. They nearly hit the electrified fence line and turned around in a skid, Remus gaining on the pile that was once a car, but Virgil’s dragon ducked low to the ground and caught up. Remus peered down to Virgil’s stoked face and jettisoned forward with a pressurized stream of ooze. He just barely managed to win with his goo jetpack.

“In your face!” Remus cackled and Virgil punched him off the boar in response. The boar disappeared when Remus hit the ground.

“I win!” Virgil announced proudly, the dragon stepping on Remus and pinning him down. Remus rolled his eyes. He wrapped himself in bubbling darkness briefly and a giant muscle-bound creature took his place, pushing the dragon off. The dragon started snarling and thrashing, and it terrified Virgil, holding tight and trying not to get thrown off.

“Wait, no, V, it’s okay!” Remus pleaded. The creature held up its hands and melted down to reveal Remus with the same pose. Remus pulled Virgil off the dragon with a desperate expression. Virgil tumbled to the dirt and held his hands over his mouth as he watched the dragon take off into the yard, jumping around wildly and spitting flames. Janus moved from a dead stop into a sprint towards the dragon and shifted into a massive golden dragon twice its size. Janus pinned Virgil’s rouge dragon down with their forelegs as it lashed out.

“Virgil, I’ve got it,” Janus shouted forcefully, the voice booming across the yard. “You can do this, take back control,” The black dragon thrashed about beneath Janus’s giant claws but couldn’t escape. Janus had to struggle to keep it pinned, but eventually, it dissipated underneath them into smoke and Janus’s massive claws hit the dirt beneath it. Janus flew over to the boys and turned back, taking Virgil’s small trembling hand. “You did a marvelous job getting it away from you and sending it off,” Virgil nodded and gripped on to Janus’s cloak fearfully. Janus held Virgil’s head and frowned at him as he shivered.

“Is the food here yet?” Remus inquired hopefully, putting his palm on Virgil’s back for comfort. Janus used their other hand to check the alerts on their phone.

“Yes, it’s been dropped off. Do you want to come with me?” Janus smiled tenderly at Virgil and Remus. Virgil nodded slightly and Remus shook the dirt off of himself.

Janus bent down to pick up Virgil and carry him. Virgil held on to Janus’s cloak still, but he was breathing easier and shaking less. Remus jumped on Janus’s back, clinging with a grin. Janus shifted another pair of arms to hold him. Janus shot a concerned gaze to them both before heading inside. Janus walked back through the house and into the compound quietly, and Virgil settled down further in their arms. Remus’s head bobbed side to side, thinking about food, but otherwise stayed still. Janus shifted other hands as needed to traverse the complex way to their delivery. They walked out the front and down the path that led to the towering concrete outer wall.

“Would one of you want to grab it, or should I?” Janus prompted, facing Remus on their shoulder expectantly.

“I’ll get it!” Remus agreed to get the food with a wide smile. He held out his hand and focused outside of the wall. A massive salamander-type beast came crawling over the barrier with a bag of delivery in its mouth a minute later. “Why didn’t we go out to eat today?” Remus glanced to Janus as the salamander walked over to their side.

“I’m working on more plans at the moment. How would you two like to dismantle city hall brick by brick?” Janus offered airily with a mischievous grin.

“That sounds fun!” Virgil chirped cheerfully, nodding as he released Janus’s cloak.

“I love wreckin’ stuff,” Remus declared, punching into his open palm and grinding his fist in. Virgil made a subdued explosion noise and mimed it with his hands.

“You’re my favourite little distractions,” Janus shifted another arm to hold open the trap door for the salamander to go back inside the compound.

“Did you learn anything fun today?” Janus inquired as he walked in after the salamander.

“I learned about dragons,” Virgil nodded, expressing satisfaction. “I don’t know what he did,” He motioned to Remus with his head.

“Projectile bombs,” Remus crawled up on Janus’s back and put his head on Janus’s shoulder. “It’s not that useful, but I did have lots of fun,” He grinned and bounced in Janus’s arms.

“Remus blew up the library, so I accidentally attacked him,” Virgil admitted sheepishly, glancing up to Janus through his bangs.

“He looks fine,” Janus punctuated their statement with a small shrug. Remus snickered to himself. Virgil made a face at Remus briefly, but it dropped into guilt after a second.

“It was just a shadow demon,” Virgil replied quietly, poking his pointer fingers together.

“Virgil choked me out!” Remus smiled and shifted up to wrap his arms around Janus’s neck.

“I managed to get it to stop. Remus coughed a little, but it wasn’t that long,” Virgil mumbled guiltily.

“Warn your brother the next time you’re going to study something that could spook him, please. And do practice that kind of thing in a training room so you don’t actually destroy the library. Did you study anything useful?” Janus continued, stroking Virgil’s hair to calm him down. Virgil stared down and pulled at his bangs.

“I think the dragons are useful,” Virgil folded his arms and nodded, peering up to Janus.

“I’ve been learning how to pick locks,” Remus announced cheerily, melting over Janus’s shoulder. The salamander climbed up onto the table and melted into nothing, dropping the bag of food in the middle of the dinner table.

“You’re a cool dragon,” Virgil complimented Janus with a happier tone and jumped out of their arms.

“Thankss,” Janus hissed with a morphed reptile tongue flicking out. Virgil giggled as he climbed up onto the step stool to wash his hands at the sink. “Which lock have you been training on?” Janus turned their head to Remus, who was looking thrilled about the food over Janus’s shoulder.

“I’ve been practicing creating the picks, doing stuff that small and specific is hard. They keep slithering off,” Remus rolled over Janus’s shoulder to jump off of Janus. He landed on the floor and hopped into a chair at the table.

“Remus, hold on, when is the last time you washed your hands?” Janus stopped Remus before he fully sat down. Remus groaned dramatically and got up, heading to the sink. Virgil was smug as he dried his hands and went to go sit at the table. “How about you, Virgil, can you make small things?” Janus turned to look at him.

“Mine are shaped right, but they usually attack. Making stuff that isn’t alive is hard,” Virgil grumbled, shaking his head. Remus washed his hands, producing various upset noises next to Janus.

“You made a very convincing lasagna the other day. I wasn’t aware it was an illusion until I bit in and it tasted of raspberry pie,” Janus complimented and washed their hands after Remus hopped off the stool to dry his hands.

“The cheese turned into a demon and tried to eat the couch, though,” Virgil muttered, leaning on one arm and drumming his fingers on the table.

“Sometimes cheese monsters try to eat couches,” Remus shrugged dismissively. “It’s a fact of life,” He sat back up in the chair again and Janus pulled out the food containers with multiple hands, placing them in front of Virgil and Remus after confirming the contents quickly. Janus sat at the table with the boys and pulled their container close.

“If you morphed your hand into lasagna, could I eat it and it be lasagna and you can just morph a new hand?” Remus pestered Janus, cracking open the top and picking up his burger to eat immediately. Virgil picked up his grilled cheese and studied Janus curiously, tilting his head and examining Janus’s hand.

“You would have bitten a chunk out of me, Remus. I do have nerves. I don’t desire to test if it would actually be lasagna,” Janus refused outright and opened their food container of steak and vegetables. They picked up the steak and ate a bite out of it with sharp carnivorous teeth. Virgil giggled and also attacked his grilled cheese, fake gnawing on it before taking a real bite.

“Boo. So are we gonna fuck anything up soon, dadceit?” Remus glanced up expectantly, taking a large bite of his burger and shoving a French fry in his mouth.

“I suppose we could hit another bank before my plans that involve city hall. There are hundreds of them,” Janus replied airily, waving their other hand in the air.

“Did… um… Ro say if he was coming over anytime soon?” Virgil pleaded hopefully, picking at a fry.

“He hasn’t called,” Janus responded off-handedly and faced away. Virgil’s face fell, and he continued picking apart a fry.

“You’ll probably see him if he doesn’t realize it’s us as the bank,” Remus grumbled. “We can go as different villains or awesome raptors,” He suggested with a scheming expression.

“I don’t wanna trick him into fighting us…” Virgil muttered, picking at his grilled cheese now, tearing off tiny pieces. “You can call and pretend to be his mom or something?” Virgil suggested, staring pleadingly at Janus. “Then it won’t be weird? I only wanna know when he might come. I mean, it would be weird if somebody who knows him didn’t call after a while, right?” Virgil rambled slightly, making excuses and hoping Janus would say yes.

“If it would make you feel better. I do love Remus’s raptor-driven bank heist idea, though. Do you two think you make a herd? It would be delightfully anti-society,” Janus purred and took another bite of steak.

“We can try!” Remus declared before ramming a handful of fries in his mouth.

“Let us practice it first. But, I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Janus smiled softly at Remus and nodded. “Quit picking at your food and eat it, Virgil. I’ll call Roman to see if he wants to schedule a visit,” Janus added, their tone somewhat exasperated, but not agitated.

“I think I saw on the news that he’s figured out flying,” Virgil responded brightly, grinning. “Maybe he’ll show us!” He added, miming flying off with a fry.

“We can figure it out ourselves,” Remus scowled at Virgil, picking up the plastic silverware and pulling out the knife.

“Yes, you’ve had so much success. Just keep practicing near the ground, please,” Janus sighed, shaking their head.

“Stupid Judgement prolly showed him how,” Remus mumbled, stabbing at his fries with a plastic knife and eating them off the end.

“Judgement has wings, and I’m pretty certain they’re magic. I looked it up ‘cause I wanted wings and I’m positive he’s breaking the laws of physics,” Virgil objected, dipping his fries into a cup of tomato soup.

“Yes, he couldn’t take a punch as well as he does with hollow bones. It was good to look that up. Judgement and Rumination both have some magic bullshit going on, that’s very astute,” Janus complimented Virgil, and he smiled brightly and blushed a little. Janus got an alert and checked their phone. “Ah, well, we do have a visitor today, even if it’s not Roman,” Janus announced blithely, smiling at their screen.

“Is it Remy?” Remus demanded eagerly, stabbing directly through his burger.

“Yes,” Janus disarmed the traps at the secret entrance. “Fae must be bored. Finish your dinner and make a bouncy castle or something,” Janus requested, taking another bite out of his steak. Virgil and Remus excitedly returned to eating. “Don’t forget to breathe,” Janus reminded them. They both took a deep, sarcastic breath. Janus rolled their eyes at the pair and they continued to eat much too quickly. Janus leaned on their elbow and lazily finished their steak.

“Babes!” Remy exclaimed as fae walked into the kitchen. Virgil ate his last bite of grilled cheese at the same time.

“Remy!” Virgil and Remus cheered, both through mouths of food.

“Hello, darling. Let the boys finish eating and they’ll entertain you,” Janus told faer, picking up a roasted broccoli floret to eat.

“We’re gonna create a bouncy castle!” Remus announced as if it was a summer blockbuster film, making his voice as deep as he could.

“Nice. Is it going to attack me?” Remy smirked playfully and swiped one of Virgil’s fries as fae sat between Janus and Virgil at the dinner table.

“Almost certainly,” Janus warned faer blithely. “It’s half the fun. We’ll bring knives to pop the balloons,” Janus recommended lightly while Remy stole another fry.

“Are y’all still working on non-living illusions?” Remy leaned into the dinner table and plundered some of Janus’s food as well.

“Yeah, they’re hard,” Virgil nodded sagely, pulling his mouth to the side.

“You’ll get the hang of it. Roman seems to be doing okay,” Remy commented and flipped faer hand. Remus pouted angrily, knocking his fist on the table. Janus exhaled in annoyance at Remus’s outburst.

“Yeah! I want to learn how he flies!” Virgil told faer excitedly, raising his hands in the air.

“Can you guys make invisible illusions?” Remy proposed and hijacked more of Virgil’s fries. Fae also dipped one in the tomato soup.

“Um… Hm…” Virgil thought hard and held out his hands. Virgil strained his face with the effort, scrunching it up tightly while he made the attempt. A small line of blood dripped from his nose.

“That’s enough of that, Virgil,” Janus warned him, and Virgil stopped and exhaled harshly.

“Here,” Virgil said, holding out his opened palm. Remy reached in the air twice before fae picked up an invisible rod. Fae squeezed along the shaft curiously.

“Oh, you did it! Send it away before it kills me,” Remy requested and handed it back to Virgil. He tapped it and Remy returned to Virgil’s fries. Virgil wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffed.

“Why do you ask?” Janus pushed the rest of their food in front of Remy. Remy happily started eating it.

“Maybe Roman uses an invisible flying disk or something and controls it with enough force to lift him. He’s better at making illusions fly despite physics than you two. Or possibly, like, a giant invisible pterodactyl. His flying doesn’t look that natural in person,” Remy suggested, but fae was much more interested in the food.

“Ro didn’t attack you, did he?” Remus accused Roman, feeling incredibly betrayed.

“Nah, you know he doesn’t do that. I wasn’t wreaking any havoc today, anyway. I only reorganized a department store and went to my favourite coffee shop. Ro came out when somebody called in an appearance. But it’s not like I was doing anything wrong. He left me alone. They love me at that coffee shop,” Remy shrugged, taking more roasted vegetables from Janus’s container.

“You tip in bundles of twenties, of course they love you,” Janus chuckled, leaning back in the chair and crossing their arms.

“You can finish my fries,” Virgil informed Remy, pushing his box towards faer.

“Let’s not make anything else invisible until you can make inanimate things more consistently,” Janus warned them, getting up to wash their hands again to remove the food remnants. Remy picked up the takeout container and drank the fries, tilting them into faer face. “Try to practice some more before bed,” Janus told Virgil and Remus over their shoulder as they washed their hands.

“But I want to make an invisible flying pterodactyl,” Remus moaned sullenly. “Virgil got to make something,” Remus pointed to Virgil with a large pout on his face.

“What did you make, Virgil?” Remy asked, chewing the fries.

“I imagined a cursed staff, I dunno what actually came out,” Virgil shrugged and made an unsure expression. He eyed Remy up and down, but saw nothing weird.

“Do you feel cursed, Remy?” Janus inquired mildly and dried their hands on the towel.

“Nah, no more than usual,” Remy responded after examining faer hands for a second and swallowing the wad of fries.

“No, it was supposed to fire curses, I wouldn’t have cursed Remy,” Virgil protested, pouting out his lower lip at Janus.

“I appreciate that. Go make that giant fucking bouncy castle, me and D will be right out,” Remy pat Virgil on the shoulder, pointed to the exit with faer thumb over faer shoulder.

“Come on, Remus!” Virgil nearly shouted, hopping off the dining room chair and running to the back door. Remus cheered and chased after him. Janus sat back down at the table after watching them slam the door shut.

“Do I owe the pleasure of this visit to anything?” Janus entwined together their fingers and rested their head on the bridge they formed, propped up on their elbows.

“Bored,” Remy replied plainly, eating the last of the remaining food. “Perhaps some pleasure later if the mood hits me,” Fae winked at Janus. Janus chuckled and rolled their eyes in response.

“Let’s grab some steak knives and join them before one of them kills the other,” Janus requested after a moment and stood up to head into the kitchen.

“You’re still okay with the whole ‘dad’ thing? I’d think it’d get irritating after a while,” Remy’s tone was blithe and fae got up to follow after Janus. “Though, I’m not sure those two couldn’t be boring if they tried,” Remy snickered to himself and wiped off faer mouth on a napkin.

“They’re very useful, despite all the chaos and hallucinated murder beasts trying to kill us,” Janus’s tone was completely unconcerned. “Would you rather they be back on the streets?” They asked, eyeing Remy judgmentally.

“It was fun when they were terrorizing the boulevards, but I suppose I like the little bastards too much to let ‘em die,” Remy grinned, standing up from the table, wiping off faer hands on the napkin.

“I think they’re almost there. I do wish Roman would come by and help them,” Janus crossed their arms and looked out the window to the bouncy castle monstrosity wobbling violently.

“He’s probably wired differently from them. He had it just as bad as them, and then something clicked and suddenly he’s a badass. I can’t believe how dumb Judgement and Rumination are that they haven’t notice that they’re getting help from a dragons damn 12-year-old,” Remy laughed, pulling a knife out of a block and tossing it at Janus. Janus caught it and Remy pulled one for faeself.

“I mean they’re heroes, Remy, of course, they’re idiots,” Janus sighed dramatically, shaking their head in disappointment.

“Are you calling Ro an idiot?” Remy arched an eyebrow and opened the rear door.

“He’s a child, he doesn’t understand how complex things are. He’ll come back when he realizes I’m correct,” Janus waved the knife in a circle before spinning it in their hand.

Remus and Virgil were whooping with laughter as they bounced inside, the house wobbling violently from all the motions. Remy climbed in, followed closely by Janus. Remy shouted as fae dropped down and bounded back up to standing, holding the knife between faer teeth. Fae cackled and ricocheted off the walls while Remus and Virgil cheered faer on. Janus wobbled on the uneven ground at first, but once they got used to the motion, they joined the children who were shrieking in delight as they jumped around.

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jaxsteamblog · 4 years

Text

Rebirth

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

The coronation was a stampeding animal, bearing down on Katara. Watching the deadline creep closer, she got more and more irritable. She had picked fights with Sokka after Zuko refused to engage with her. The fear she fueled into school and stopped eating or sleeping regularly to read and study.

It was during one bout of isolation that Sokka barged into her apartment and both he and Suki pried her away from her desk. Zuko was down in the lot and shoved her into the back of a car, getting in quickly after her. As his door closed and she started to fuss, the driver pulled out of the lot.

“I have so much to do!” Katara complained

“No you don’t. I have your schedule.” Zuko said calmly.

“I don’t want to go.” She whined.

“Yes you do. You missed me.” He replied.

“Yeah.” She said, defeated, and fell forward onto him. With her head against his chest, Zuko patted her head.

“I didn’t pack.” She finally said.

“I did.” He said and Katara sighed.

After sitting back, she smoothed out her seat belt.

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“Remember our museum trip?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Right. Well, I thought we’d go see the real thing.”

“We’re going to Omashu?” Katara asked.

“Yup. The Queen has invited us to stay while we visit the cave.” Zuko answered.

“Hopefully it won’t end like our museum trip.” Katara said and chuckled.

“Or our date.” He added. They both laughed and Katara leaned over, resting against his shoulder.

“I’m sure it will be nice.” She murmured.

“Okay, this is worse actually.” Katara grunted.

“Did I jinx it or was it you?” Zuko asked as he struggled against his bonds.

“Shut it!” A voice shouted and banged something heavy against the side of the van.

“How did we survive an entire war but end up getting kidnapped twice?” Katara questioned while twisting her wrists. The plastic zip ties kept the plastic tarp secured around her hands. Her feet were similarly bound and she felt like a house pet wearing booties. And, as crude as it was, she couldn’t bend like this.

Zuko’s shackles were far worse. Resembling traction headgear, pins were jammed into his wrists and ankles, held in place with plastic cuffs. The acupuncture blocked his chi and threatened to skewer him if he moved too much.

“Okay, we have to get out of this van.” Zuko said.

“Then what?” Katara asked.

“We run into the tunnels.” Zuko stated simply.

“Right.” Katara muttered. “Where are your babysitters again?”

“That’s an excellent question. I have a sneaking suspicion that these fellows are Fire Nation.” He replied.

“Great.”

“Ready?”

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

Katara laid on her back with her feet to the van doors and started kicking at it viciously.

“Hey! Dirtbags! I have to pee!” She shouted.

Continuing to kick, there was a grunt as the door opened and someone caught a foot in the face.

“My bad.” Katara called out.

“What do you want?” Another man demanded.

“I thought I made that clear.” Katara said as she moved awkwardly to her knees. With both of their hands bound behind their backs, moving around was nearly impossible.

“Fine, but you better not try nothing princess.” The man said.

As Katara started to scoot down from the van, she fell forward and the man, on instinct, reached out to catch her. While he bent over, Zuko jumped onto his back as he leaped out of the van. Keeping her feet planted, Katara waited for the moment Zuko’s weight lifted and then rolled the man off her.

“I see seven.” Katara called as she started to run after Zuko.

“There’s ten.” He yelled back.

The tunnels to the cave had been closed by the Queen of Omashu for their visit. When they arrived, the only other vehicle was a park van that they both assumed belonged to whatever ranger was staffed here. They had barely made it inside before the group fell on them. Whoever they were, Fire Nation or not, they were prepared for them.

“How are we going to lose them?” Katara asked as she caught up. She could hear their pursuers right behind them.

“This would be great if we were Earthbenders.” Zuko muttered.

A blast of fire roared past Katara’s head and she yelped.

“Well thank the spirits they aren’t either.” She retorted.

“We need to-” Zuko started but was cut off by a loud rumbling. The ground fell away from underneath their feet and they both screamed as they fell backward. Sliding down into the dark, Katara could hear other screams.

When they hit the ground, the few captors who fell with them toppled into a pile. Scurrying on their backsides, Zuko and Katara bumped into each other into the dark.

“Where are they?” One man yelled.

With no forthcoming flame, Katara figured they were non-Benders.

“We know you’re in here.” Another woman shouted. They were moving and Katara figured their space was actually large enough to keep a good distance. If they didn’t manage to wander over to their side.

“Come here.” Zuko whispered. Katara slid until she bumped into Zuko’s head.

“Hold still. This is going to be a little warm.” He said. She heard him blow out a breath and her hands got very warm. Clenching her hands into fists, Katara tried to keep from touching the plastic.

“Pull them apart, but keep them back here.” Zuko said. Yanking her hands apart, the plastic tie popped apart. Then, with tender fingers, Zuko pried open the melted plastic from around her hands.

With her hands mostly free, Katara wiggled her fingers.

“Your turn.” She whispered and turned around. It was pitch black in their sealed room and Katara had to feel for the shackles.

“Time to take your suggestion.” She whispered and leaned over to get as close as she could to the cuffs. Gathering spit in her mouth, Katara directed onto the locks.

“That’s disgusting.” Zuko whispered.

“Thank me later.” Katara muttered.

“I hear them!” The woman yelled.

Freezing the lock, Katara swiped her hands on the ground for a rock. Suddenly bumping into one, she grabbed it and brought it down on the cuffs as gently as she could. Now that they were both free, Zuko jumped up and immediately punched out two quick fire blasts. Shooting blind, he nonetheless startled their pursuers and found their position.

“Ugh, there’s no water in here.” Katara grumbled.

“We’ll make do.” Zuko said and pulled two fire daggers from the air. He held them in a defensive stance and Katara looked over at the other two people.

Fire might not stand up well against steel.

As the attackers rushed them, they stumbled as the ground shook again. Dissipating his blades, Zuko grabbed Katara to steady her.

They both stared open mouthed as a badgerole erupted into their vacant space. Its nose wriggled furiously and its head swiveled back and forth. When its blind eyes turned to them, Katara clutched Zuko and they only looked back.

“YARGH!” The man on the other side of the badgermole yelled. The badgermole shrieked and whipped back around and Katara heard the sound of a body hitting dirt. Scurrying upward, the badgermole dug a new tunnel but funneled the falling dirt to one side.

“I think that’s our ride.” Zuko said, pulling Katara as he ran to the badgermole. He grabbed onto the beast’s hide and tugged Katara onto its back. Keeping low, they both shielded their heads as the badgermole continued to dig its way through the earth.

After some terrifying, claustrophobic minutes, Katara felt cool air on her face. The badgermole stopped and Zuko held onto Katara as they slid off.

Still looking at the badgermole, Zuko held out his hand. The badgermole sniffed it and pressed the tip of its sensitive nose against Zuko’s palm.

“Thank you.” Zuko said.

The badgermole turned and dug into the floor, burying down once again.

Exhausted, they both sat down. They worked in silence on their feet and completely freed themselves. Tossing the broken plastic into a pile, Katara pulled her knees to her chest. There were crystals in this cavern and they emitted a soft green light. It was enough to see by, though everything was dim.

“Why do you think they were Fire Nation?” She asked.

“No one else could’ve gotten past my guard.” Zuko said and sighed.

“What else?” Katara questioned.

“A lot of people in my country are unhappy with me. They think I’m going to be controlled by one of the other nations.” He explained.

“Well you’re wrong.” Katara said.

“What do you mean?”

“The two in the pit. Their knives were Water Tribe.”

“So they were after you?”

“Oh no, I fully believe they were after you.”

“Framing the Poles then?”

“I guess your family might not like me.”

Zuko nodded and reclined with his hands pressed against the ground.

“It’s kinda funny.” He remarked.

“What?”

“Our countries aren’t exactly friendly with each other. And I almost died because of it. But these tunnels saved us.”

Katara looked at him for a moment, taking in his expression and the line of his body. Then she too sat back, resting against Zuko as they both stared up at the twinkling cavern ceiling.

“But our people aren’t at war. We’re both alive. And we can continue on, together.” She said.

“It’s like they get another chance.” Zuko sighed and leaned his head against hers.

It took them a few hours to be found, and they were ready for another fight. Dragging the bound kidnappers with them, Zuko and Katara relaxed in front of the royal guard. They were then told, with panicked excitement, that they were to be brought before the Queen.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #zutara week #the fic that prompts built

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astheravensighs · 4 years

Text

[Double Dark and Darker]

Gray meets Dazai for the first time, and things go as well as you would expect.

"Um," Gray almost whispered, tugging on Chuuya's sleeve gently. "Who is that..?"

Chuuya followed her gaze to the benches along the sides of the abandoned stadium, spotting a familiar pair of eyes watching them both like a mischievous hawk. Legs crossed and body bent forward in rapt fascination of the new addition to their equation.

"Ah. That's Dazai. He's…" Chuuya paused thoughtfully, if not slightly bitterly. "Well, let's use the word friend." He glanced back over at her and saw the same confusion as before she asked. "Just- he's not gonna hurt you. He's just watching. You can… trust him." He felt his throat sting, briefly thankful he was out of earshot. Gray kept her eyes on the distant figure. "He doesn't seem safe," she stated, retreating farther into the too-big coat he'd lent her. Chuuya choked down the embarrassment of showing his least favorite person his soft side and leaned down to her height.

"Hey," He said softly, waiting until her eyes met his own. "I've never once given you a reason not to trust me, right?" She hesitated, but slowly nodded. "Right. I promised I would keep you safe. I know for a fact he's not a threat," He stood back up to his full height and puffed out his chest a little bit. "But even if he was, I'd kill him before he ever got near you." "K-kill him?" "Or, uh- I'd knock him out, y'know," His posture deflated as he tried to backpedal his accidentally fearsome persona.

Watching curiously, elbow on his knee and chin resting on the back of his hand, Dazai couldn't help but grin a little bit. Chuuya was going soft. As funny as it was, he felt a certain responsibility to stop the odd change clearly taking place in his psyche. His rival should be his equal. Seeing him distracted, giving in to his overwhelming protective instinct, was irritating. Unfortunately, he found himself being affected too.

This little girl was barely shoulder height to his tiny ex-partner and probably jumped every time he coughed. Her eyes were colorless, no blue or green or brown at all. Just gray. He wondered briefly if Chuuya had given her the uncreative name based on her eyes. The clothes she was wearing he recognized- they were Chuuya's. They fit him when he was maybe 17 (and honestly, probably still did) but they completely enveloped her, and he recognized the way she retreated into it as if it was a bulletproof shield.

He could read her like a picture book. Everything about her, from the way she held her arms to her chest as she walked to the way her eyes darted around to assess every threat, screamed out to him one word- pitiful. And as much as he was a monster, and as much as he hated to admit it, Dazai had some human left in him, and that humanity was screaming for him to protect her too.

"A-anyway, y'know why we're here, right? I'd like to teach you some self defense stuff." Gray gave Chuuya a look that was equal parts fear for her own safety, and fear for his. He gave her a reassuring smile and took a few steps back. "Just outta curiosity, to see what I'm working with," He spread his arms out, completely opening up his abdomen, unguarded. "Try just a punch or something. Right here," He gestured to his stomach.

Gray looked down at her hand, clenching and unclenching her fist for a few seconds, before meeting his eyes again, eyebrows pushed together with worry. "But what if I… hurt you?"

An absolute guffaw from the sidelines startled her, drawing both participants' gazes. Dazai was attempting to stifle the giggles spilling out of him, eliciting a sigh from his 'friend'.

"Ignore him."

Gray gave him one last look before turning her eyes back to her protector, trying to ignore the redness she felt burning her ears.

"Just a punch. I promise you won't hurt me. You really, really won't," He insisted.

A few moments of silence and stillness as Gray takes a breath, calming her nerves, rattled by this simple task. She clenches her fist again, and forces it forwards, shutting her eyes and hoping for the best.

As the backs of her fingers make contact with the threads of Chuuya's vest, they all but rolled off, only creating a soft 'thud', and throwing her off balance. "Oh, woah-" Chuuya sputtered, not sure what he was expecting, but knowing it wasn't… that. He steadied her before she fell, withdrawing his hands quickly, remembering how she'd flinched at his touch the day before. He could almost feel the heat emanating from her cheeks in shame.

"…Okay, let's try again."

She turned to face him again, head tilted, still uncomfortable voicing her questions, but knowing he knew what she was asking.

"No, you didn't hurt me. I swear," He reassured, adding only in his own thoughts, 'You almost hurt yourself'.

He gave her the most encouraging smile he could, approaching her slowly. "Let me show you how to do it," He offered, reaching out to guide her before stopping- "Can I touch your hands?" She nodded and braced her skittish instincts as his gloved fingers barely brushed her own. Ignoring the alarms in her head as they began to scream at her to run, she watched carefully as he gently pushed her fingers into a proper fist.

"Chuuya, I think she's more of a visual learner, you know?" a singsong voice from behind them earned a small yelp from the already wary girl, as Chuuya whipped around to face it.

"Oi, you're supposed to stay back-" "I know, I know," Dazai interrupted him with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I know how to demonstrate much better." "Dazai!" Chuuya watched him as he circled around him, holding out a protective arm to shield the now very uncomfortable girl behind him. "I told you-" He began, but was interrupted as Dazai pulled his own fist back, meeting the scared, colorless eyes peeking out at him. "Watch this carefully!"

Dazai knew Chuuya's guard was focused entirely on protecting his little fosterling, and not on his own safety. So as his fist struck the smaller man's abdomen, there was a look of disbelief on his face that Dazai reveled in as he followed through, putting all of his force behind the motion of his arm, sending Chuuya's body directly into the wall behind him with a disturbing 'crack'.

A moment passes completely silent as Chuuya's back slid the few feet down the wall to impact the rough dirt. Taking a second the shake off the shock, he gaped at the blood now dripping from his forehead, off his chin, staining his clothes. Steeling his glare, he moved to get up, to retaliate, to- Shit, he needed to get /her/ away first- But as he looked back up, the fire in his eyes faded.

Dazai had already seen what he was only just now seeing, already turning to face it. A shadowy mass of tendrils and dark smoke was taking over the spot Gray had just been. A low growl, rising in tone and intensity, echoed through the stadium, but was directed right at Dazai, who just couldn't help his own shit-eating grin. He saw the attachment between them. He knew there was potential hidden beneath that timid exterior. He knew she wasn't created in a lab, researched and studied and hidden away for years, just to turn out useless. He KNEW there was something to her, and he knew how to find out what. And as she stared him down with smoke and shadow where her eyes used to be, he felt no fear. He had no reason to. His ability was a nullifying get-out-of-jail free card, so to speak. And the satisfaction he felt from a successful plan almost outweighed the rumbling in his chest as the growling got louder.

"You know," he turned to fully face her. "You're cute when you're mad."

The growl turned into a roar as the mass of shadows lurched backwards, rearing up like an angry stallion, before careening back towards him. He lazily outstretched his hand, letting his ability activate, but it was for nothing.

The enraged, shadowy creature that was once a girl charged into him, almost through him, and out of the dark mist emerged a hand, black as night, balled into a fist so tight the claw-like nails dug into a bleeding palm. The limb was barely visible as it rocketed directly into Dazai's outstretched palm.

For just a moment, time seemed to slow down for the two men as they simultaneously understood what was happening, what was about to happen. Chuuya's face was pure, unfiltered shock and awe. Mouth open, eyes wide, mind reeling- but Dazai's face was something that he'd later come to treasure. He'd relive this moment in his mind a hundred times, seeing the image of Dazai's cocky smirk suddenly shifting to shock, the corners of his mouth dropping, his eyes refocusing- this isn't right… My ability..!- and then contorting to fear, his teeth gritting and eyebrows high. This beautiful scene only lasted a fraction of a second before the fist against his hand ignored the blue glow of his nullification ability and continued its destructive path directly into his chest, sounding a loud "CRACK" as his ribs buckled from the force, body suddenly being wrenched into the same trajectory as the leading arm, rocketing hard into the wall right next to the wide eyed man he'd dropped just seconds before.

A hush fell over all three of them as the dark smoke began to fade from the outstretched limb, revealing the shoulders, the neck, then the face of a very scared, very small girl. There were tears in her eyes and her every limb was shaking like a scared puppy. As soon as her mouth was visible she was talking, almost chanting, "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-" The rest of her body came into view as the darkness evaporated into the air like a lifting fog and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing and apologizing to Dazai, to Chuuya, to herself.

Chuuya pushed down the shock- maybe even fear- trying to keep him frozen and wrenched himself off the ground, ignoring the equally astonished body leaning next to him. With some effort he lifted his own limbs to scramble over to the sobbing mess on the ground, unsure of what entirely to do.

"Hey, hey, hey-- Are you okay? Are you- Look at me, please?" She couldn't stop the shame that escaped from her throat and turned into wails but she did meet his eyes with hers. She could see the surprise in his face, but she could also see concern- for her. Before she could look down again he caught her chin with his fingers- gently- and tried to think of what to say.

"Hey… I'm proud of you."

The four words overtook her thoughts like a wildfire. How long had she waited to hear that? Longer than she'd been alive. Proud of her. He was proud… of her. She did something good. Even though her whole body ached, her mind was reeling, and her wrist felt broken, she couldn't help the confused, blissful smile that crept up to her face. Then her head fell forward again, and her body slumped, unconscious, into Chuuya's arms.

(thank u for reading <3)

#otp: double dark and darker #gray’s original #gray’s writing #s/i: gray valentine

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modestlyabsurd · 5 years

Text

Survival Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

So far, a few things have been discovered through your Asgardian-Jötun defense training: for one, Loki is literally a soldier. Well actually, a warrior. He's a goddamn fighting machine. For some odd reason that has never crossed your mind. With the privilege of guns and bows and knives, exactly how skilled he is in hand-to-hand combat has never really come into play.

The second thing you've learned is just how unskilled you are in hand-to-hand combat.

It's embarrassing when you think about it. Of course, thinking about it is what got you knocked down with a blade to your throat probably eight out of ten times. Oh yeah, Loki wasn't fucking around. He showed you a few things. Without any weapons, you're shit.

You shudder to think what you'd be without him. Dead? No, probably worse. In a lot of ways.

He lay, after finally giving in to slumber a few hours ago, under a pink mildewy comforter on the mattress. He'd trained you all night and well into the morning. Gone was the bright springy sun from yesterday, and in its place was a grayish blue sky covered in fish-scale clouds. That's always a sign of a cold front, but damn, how could it get any colder? Surely some sort of solar collapse would take place if it did. Regardless, that meant problems.

The physical training had not been the best thing for Loki to do. He won't admit it because he's as stubborn as a jackass. But he's hungry.

Despite feeling the effects of not sleeping much after taking the Advil, you got up at daybreak when the light came in the kitchen window and reviewed your stocks. You already know it's bad but that doesn't matter; Loki's gonna eat today even if you have to force feed him.

Not that you could possibly restrain him long enough to do so. Not that you could restrain him at all ... God, you're sore from training with a famished person. It was nice, though.

Loki had already replaced the food into your backpacks, but he left the notepad open on the counter with them. At first you struggle to read his ridiculously pretty, loopy cursive handwriting. It's prettier than your grandma's.

18.2.2020

x1 tinned pineapple

x2 tinned tuna fish (cat food)

x1 handisnacks cheese and crackers (what?)

x1 smashed cereal bar

a bit of peanut butter.

We MUST find more.

"Well no shit, Sherlock," you mumble.

The logical option is obvious. You dig into your backpack and find the cans of tuna, as Loki begins to stir in his sleep. Green eyes shine from across the room and long arms emerge from the blanket like butterfly wings. You can't help but grin a little.

He groans upon seeing you. "Good morning."

"Morning. Nice hair."

"Mm, yes. The morning after look suits you nicely as well," he murmurs. Damn your burning face.

"You wish."

Loki sits upright and slowly stands up, looking around the heart of this small house. As if it didn't look bad enough, it became sparring grounds last night. Everything was fine - until he decided to reverse the roles and let you practice a bit. Scattered glass from broken artwork, a dented kitchen cabinet, and now one of the floor boards is bowing up. Loki smiles, remembering that last take-down of yours and feeling something come loose beneath him.

You'd thought you broke one of his bones, and he let you think it. His muscles cramping from laughter and nearly getting punched in the face established the end of your first training session.

The floors creak even louder now as he approaches you by the kitchen sink. He places a hand on your shoulder with pride. "You did well last night."

You scoff, "Tell that to my ass that got kicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," he encouraged, his voice not fully awake. "I'm no easy teacher. But you learn quickly. You just need a bit of patience, grasshopper." He booped your nose.

"Yeah, whatever," you try not to smile. "Oh, by the way, this is not cat food. It's real tuna and you're gonna eat it."

Loki visibly gets on the defense. "Are you ordering me?"

You notice the jab but remain composed. "Yeah, Mr. Prince of Asgard, I am."

"And if I refuse?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

He shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are! Would you stop lying?!" the slam of the can rings through the walls and makes Loki jump.

"I don't need - "

"What did we agree on?" you demand.

He purses his lips solemnly. "No lies. No lies between us."

"And you've been lying about this for a minute."

"I haven't!" he hisses. "I don't know what you're so worried about but it's senseless! I can take care of myself, my body is not the same as yours - I'm not human!" The harshness of his eyes, so literally and figuratively transparent, along with the gauntness of his cheeks unnerved a distant part of your mind.

"I think you're the one that's worried."

His slightly agape mouth sighs and his eyes blink in disbelief. The harshness melts away. He looks anywhere but in your face. You're so bloody perceptive. Normally it's quite helpful, and it's one of the things he likes about you. But not when you read him like a cheap, paperback novel.

"Loki, I don't wanna be mad. I don't want us to yell and scream at each other. Just ... be a good cat and eat the fucking tuna." You slide the can over to him, "For me."

He picks up the can with pale, deft fingers, looking it over deep in his thoughts. The only other person who knew him so well was Frigga. His hidden feelings. The right things to say. The code to crack his walls. How, especially in such a tumultuous world, does someone else know the same things? A human nonetheless. Of course, he knows if he thought about it too much he'd eventually figure out the answer.

He's not sure he wants to know the answer. At least for now. Maybe even for eternity.

Having gathered the will to look you in the eye, he notices your face painted with dirt. Your hair, growing over your eyes and nearing your shoulders. The rip at your jacket collar. The healing cut on your lip.

"It seems you possess patience already. What you lack is the ability to harness it."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. "Was this a test?!"

"It was," Loki chirps while opening the tuna can, "and you passed with excellence."

More training filled the rest of the morning easily. Amidst the physicality of sparring in life-and-death scenarios, Loki assessed your mentality as well. He sharpened your strengths, which grew the fastest in your fighting, and honed in on your weaknesses. Most, if not all, stemming from your emotions.

He went so far as to create illusions to test you. Only, you didn't realize they were illusions.

Whilst showing you one of the many ways to escape someone's grip without the help of a weapon, he mounted you with his knees pinning your shoulders. Your arms useless, your neck exposed to his silver dagger. The coldness of the blade was paralyzing.

"This feeling means you're not dead and you have time to act."

"Fuck, your breath reeks."

Loki nearly loses it all. "Focus, you sausage! You have to act fast!"

You try to move what little you can when suddenly the weight holding you down is thrown to the floor. A man has Loki down and connects with a few punches before you can launch to your feet. The dagger was dropped in the struggle so you grab it and drive it through the stranger's neck, only to lose balance and nearly fall. Your hand went through air.

The man was air?!

Someone seizes your mishap from behind and wraps their arms around your throat. You distantly hear Loki scream your name before the feeling of cold, hard metal presses against your skull.

"Whatever you've got, give it!"

Once your vision focuses you see Loki, his hands above his head, begging. "Let her go. Please."

"Now!"

"We don't have anything!"

"The backpacks! Get 'em! Empty everything out!"

Loki keeps looking at you, as if he's begging you to do something. Then you remember the dagger you're clutching in your hand.

You swing toward the stranger's head. Again, your arm goes through air, but at last you're free. Frantically you look around to find where the air people are coming in. Before you pass Loki, he haults you.

"Come on! We gotta stop them - "

"Easy, darling, easy," he coos, "it's alright. There's no one here."

"But they, they are! They were here ... "

"Shhh," he grips your shoulders down to your triceps, looking deeply into your eyes. Instantly calming you down. "It's alright, darling. It was all an illusion. We're safe."

"Wh... Illusion..?" you ask breathlessly. The house is quiet. The wind howls outside. Everything begins to play out in your head again; how your hand kept going through the robbers. They weren't real. In one hand, you want to melt into Loki's embrace due to the draining withdrawal from raw fear.

But in the other hand is the dagger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you swing wildly, not aiming at anything but definitely aiming for something. Loki disarms you before you poke an eye out.

Many, many obscenities later and you're sitting on the mattress together discussing your strengths and weaknesses while cleaning your weapons.

"Your reflexes are a bit slow, but they're improving. Just when the fear is about to consume you beyond return, you recover, and you recover well. Your strikes are deadly. But that bit of time when your emotions dare to take over ... it could be enough time for anything to happen."

"Yeah, yeah. What's my grade?" you wipe the barrel of your rifle.

Loki laughs. "You've graduated from grasshopper to novice. Well done."

You smile at him.

Then, you hear it.

Far off, but approaching.

Your eyes dart toward the sound, then drift back to Loki staring back at you.

A herd.

Loki frowns, his brows furrowing above sorrowful green eyes.

"We have to move."

i aint fuckin around no more y'all. this is a motherfuckin Last of Us AU

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

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yourdeepestfathoms · 5 years

Text

Flavors of Poison (part one)

[Sweet Shop AU]

TW: Alcohol, Pot, Discussion of sexual assault

———————

Cockatrice Kiss

The barn smells of sweet alfalfa and wet hay, a pleasant, earthy aroma to contrast the sugary one of Sweet Thrills. Bessie paws around on the wall before finding the light switch and flips it on, watching the weaving of rainbow fairy lights along the ceiling flicker to life and cast their soft colorful glow across the wooden building.

Even though it’s been two years since the barn was made, she still can’t help but be proud of it when she goes in each time.

It took several paychecks to make the structure, with Aragon paying some of the expenses to cover a few tools or planks of wood Bessie just couldn’t afford. After four months of endless work in the London rain and cold and several WikiHow searches on how to build a stable (with pictures), it was finally finished: the perfect, twenty foot by fifteen foot barn.

When you first enter, you get a view of the wide space behind a short fence and gate: a haven of soft hay that sprinkles the dirt like golden snow. A wide wooden box is situated in the far left corner with two heat lamps sitting atop a grate covering the carved holes in the top. Beside it is the large, oval-shaped watering tin, which contents are murky and need to be cleaned out soon, and the long feed trough, where the remnants of a grainy breakfast remain. A ball sits quietly in the center, waiting to be played with again. Its usual user is dozing in the right corner, but it’s sort of hard to tell if she’s asleep or not because of her long bangs.

“Hyde?” Bessie called softly.

She noticed the creature’s big, fuzzy ears flick upwards and the highland heifer rises to her feet.

Her coat is a beautiful orange-red color, apart from her bangs, which fade to a silver dun shade. The locks are stringy, like ribbons of steel that blanket over her dark eyes. Horns, still not fully grown, curve upwards, menacing despite their short length.

The young heifer, Hyde, bounds up to the gate, lowing loudly, which makes Bessie giggle. She stamps her hooves into the dirt, throwing up dust into the air, watching as Bessie goes to the tack area and gets her feed. She nearly knocks the girl down when she’s walking into the pen.

“Hey!” Bessie yelped when Hyde’s snout pokes into her belly, “I know you’re hungry, just hang on a moment!”

Hyde moos again, lashing her tail as she watches and reluctantly allows Bessie to do her job. Once the oats are poured into the trough, she dives in, munching happily on her dinner.

“Chubby,” Bessie said, poking the heifer’s stomach.

As if she understood (Bessie liked to think she could), Hyde lows in between chews and flicked Bessie with her long, furry tail.

“My apologies, madam!” Bessie giggled, rubbing her hand down Hyde’s spine. “Sorry I’m so late. Will you ever forgive me?”

Hyde made a muffled cow noise and Bessie smiled.

“Sleep well, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that, she gathered her bag, which she had left at the door, and walked out.

The trek to the house wasn’t long- she was soon unlocking the front door and stepping into the warmth of the home.

It was dark, as she expected. It was ten at night, after all, and Cathy had school the next day. Bessie couldn’t help but smile fondly at the memory of the time she and the twelve-year-old stayed up all night building on a Minecraft world together (yeah, it’s a little childish for her to partake in at her age, but she couldn’t say no to Cathy, and a “quick build” quickly turned into a giant kingdom fit for a queen- and a dragon named Hroar.)

Bessie walks past the kitchen, not bothering with dinner despite being hungry. She didn’t want to make too much noise and wake anyone up, so she just made a beeline for her downstairs bedroom-

However, she was stopped by a sharp voice.

“Dinner’s in the fridge.”

Bessie froze, slightly startled. She turned slowly to find Aragon sitting on the couch in the living room, her legs crossed neatly over one another and her hands resting in her lap. Her facial features are calm, smooth, and her eyebrows are raised, but Bessie can’t help but think the woman is annoyed with her.

“Hey, Catalina,” The girl whispered, hunching her shoulders around her neck.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Aragon replied, “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“I picked something up,” Bessie lied.

Aragon’s eyebrows arched higher.

“No...” Bessie sighed.

“I’ve told you not to lie to me,” Aragon said. She stands up and walks to the kitchen, and Bessie follows with her head lowered.

“I’m sorry...” Bessie whispered.

Aragon pulls a platter of casserole out of the fridge and put it in the microwave, then turned to Bessie. Her eyes soften when she saw how pitiful the girl looked.

“It’s quite alright, dear,” She said. “I just worry about you. You need to eat.”

“I do!” Bessie said, then quickly lowered her voice. “I’m just- I’m tired.”

“Were you too tired to eat yesterday, too?” Aragon said, then added before Bessie could counter, “And the day before that?”

Bessie shut her mouth and lowered her head, finding the floor much more interesting. She hears a soft clucking sound and her chin is being lifted.

“I’m not doing this to be rude,” Aragon said, “I love you very much, my special girl.”

“I love you, too,” Bessie whispered. Her bottom lip quivers slightly, not because of what was said, but rather because of the amount of love this woman has for her, despite knowing what she has done.

Before either of them can say anything else, a tiny voice sounds from behind them.

“Mama?”

Aragon and Bessie turn around to see Cathy standing by the steps, rubbing her eyes with her fist, which is hooded by her pajama sleeve. Her hair is in complete disarray, making it look like the wild mane of a lion.

“I’m right here, baby,” Aragon walks to her goddaughter. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I just woke up because I heard voices,” Cathy said, then peeks around Aragon. “Bessie’s home!”

“Hey, Cat,” Bessie waved slightly, allowing a small smile to ghost across her lips.

“You need to get back to bed,” Aragon said, then looked at Bessie. “Elizabeth, please eat, alright?”

“I will.” Bessie assured her. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night, Bessie!”

Once the two of them retreat upstairs, Bessie takes the plate of casserole out of the microwave, takes four bites, then throws the rest away, hiding it beneath other pieces of rubbish.

———

“EEUCK!!” Anne spit loudly, “You smell like a barn!”

Bessie wrinkled her nose in her coworker’s direction, slightly miffed by her dramatic reaction to the scent of cow clinging to her body.

“I didn’t have time to shower after taking care of Hyde because SOMEONE signed me up for the morning shift.” Bessie said, shooting another accusing look at Anne.

“I had already signed up for this shift and I don’t really like any of the other workers, so I didn’t want to work it with someone I couldn’t get along with!” Anne said.

“How selfless of you,” Bessie said dryly. As she’s watering Herman after switching the ‘CLOSED’ sign to ‘OPEN’ she notices Anne perk up, beaming about something.

“What?” Bessie looked at her curiously.

“There’s a party this evening,” Anne explained, “One of the frats at the college is hosting it.”

“Ah.” Bessie nodded, preparing to leave it at that, but Anne goes on.

“We gotta go!”

“No way.” Bessie immediately said.

“Come on, B, you haven’t been to a single party yet. You have to go at least once!” Anne said.

“Anne-”

“Please!” Anne was begging at this point. “Please, B! I won’t leave you alone, I promise! And if it isn’t fun or it things go bad or you get uncomfortable, then we can leave immediately! I swear it!”

Bessie looked at her coworker, who was pleading like a puppy. She’s always had a hard time saying no to people...

She sighed.

“Fine.”

“YES!!” Anne threw her arms up into the air, then hugged Bessie tightly, “Oh, thank you, B! Thank you! You won’t regret this!”

Somehow, Bessie thinks she will.

———

She expected it to play out like the same old story you read about or hear about on TV: Girl with a wild streak and some issues goes to her first legal frat party, gets drunk, and winds up in bed with a guy who ditches her and posts pictures of them doing it on the school's website. Girl is shattered, her reputation ruined and possibly ends up with a baby to sour the deal more.

So, Bessie kept a sharp eye on Anne that night, to protect her from even the slightest chance of that happening. Sure, Anne was much bigger and tougher than her, but the issues could linger and Anne was awfully fascinated by the alcoholic drinks on display.

“Just one wine cooler each, maybe two,” Bessie said, her eyes darting around everywhere. “Don't drink the punch, keep an eye on your food and drink, don't talk to anyone slurring-”

“Honey, you need to loosen up. The old Anne might have gotten herself into some deep crap, but the new Anne will be just fine. Trust me.”

Bessie didn’t know much about “old Anne” and what exactly she had gotten herself into in the past, as the two of them hadn’t known each other in high school (Anne said was living in France, but moved to London for college), but she decided to try to trust her friend.

However, it does not ease her fears.

“But-”

“Don't worry, I'll stick by you the whole night. For your sake, of course.” Anne smiled at Bessie, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. “Come on!”

Pushing their way through the dancing bodies, Anne and Bessie ventured deeper into the party house. The smell of weed, alcohol, and mixed vapes was overbearing. A girl who was dressed in a lacy, but tight black dress pushed past Bessie, her perfume almost gagging her when she pressed against her on accident. Stepping back, Bessie dodged her friends as they hurried after her, calling out a mixture of profanities as they spilled their drinks.

“Bessie!” Someone yelled across the party. Bessie whipped around, trying to pick out whoever called her name. Suddenly a sort of-friend from chemistry appeared at her elbow, shoving a drink into her hand. He smiled at her.

“I didn’t think you would come, girl, it’s cool that you did!”

Bessie smiled awkwardly, wiping the sweat gathering on her brow. The house was twice the temperature as outside, the multiple hot bodies dancing around the small building only serving to amplify the humidity that built up.

“I figured I better come at least once, or else you guys will never forgive me,” Bessie said before cautiously sipping from her glass. The burning of alcohol was unfamiliar. Still, it warmed her chest- she kind of enjoyed the bite.

“Do you wanna smoke?” Her kinda-friend asked, waggling a joint in front of her eyes.

“No, I’m- I’m okay.” She stammered.

“Come on!”

“No, really, I’m okay.”

Her kinda-friend frowned, taking a drag himself before speaking, “Whatever dude, if you hated pot smokers you should have said.”

Bessie felt guilt build as she opened her mouth to explain, but instead her kinda-friend disappeared into the mass of dancing bodies. The music was turned up, causing the bass to thump loudly in her ears, and she completely missed Anne saying something to her, so the young woman had to shake her elbow to get her attention.

“Do not smoke.” Anne said, as if she were Bessie’s mum. Bessie couldn’t help but smile at her sternness.

“Aye, aye,”

Anne smiled, then immediately whipped around afterwards, tugging excitedly on Bessie’s arm. She points to a table that several people are gathered at.

“Let’s go take shots!”

Bessie allowed Anne to lead her to the table, where the college kids were passing out shots of UV and vodka and tequila. Bessie grabbed one as it was shoved into her hands, her last glass disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Several shots later, Bessie was pleasantly buzzed, leaning towards drunk. Her system wasn’t used to processing alcohol- it made her a lightweight. She laughed at one of the girls as she started to hack at the burn of the alcohol, while Anne bounced at her side, still hanging onto her arm, this time with both hands, as she chortled.

“Bessie?”

Through the music, Bessie heard a familiar, warm voice, and turned around to see none other than Anna.

The young woman was dressed in a red and black flannel and jeans and she was holding a glass of beer. The lights of the house cast a slight glow over her dark skin, neatly combed black hair, and friendly smile.

“Anna!” Bessie lit up. She pats Anne’s hands, causing her coworker to let go, and she hurries over to Anna.

“I didn’t know you went to parties.” Anna said.

“I usually don’t,” Bessie replied, then hiccuped. A blush flames red on her cheeks and she quickly covered her mouth. Above her, Anna laughed.

“I can tell,” She said. “You’re adorable.”

Bessie went to say something else, but just hiccuped again. She clenched her fingers tighter around her jaw, her blush creeping up to her ears and making them as hot as the rest of her body thanks to the heat inside of the house.

“You poor thing,” Anna cooed sympathetically. “First time drinking?”

Bessie nodded, not risking speaking again.

“Ah,” Anna nodded. “That explains it.” She wrapped an arm around Bessie’s shoulders and frowned. “Darling, you’re so hot... How long have you been here? Have you drank water at all?”

Bessie shrugged, then squeaks out through her fingers, “An hour? And...ah...no.”

“Let’s go get you some,” Anna decided.

After Bessie tells Anne where she’s going, she lets Anna lead her to the kitchen, which is surprisingly probably the least crowded room in the whole house, since the drink and snack stands were set up in other areas.

Anna gently presses Bessie into a chair at the dining room table and swaps her glass of tequila for a red plastic cup of water. It soothes her burning throat, washing away the sting of strong alcohol, which she is really starting to feel the effects of.

(Is is called “Fireball” because it makes it feel like a fireball is burning in your stomach?)

Bessie doesn’t register the cool fingers brushing her flushed, clammy cheek for a moment, but she’s leaning into them before she even notices they’re touching her. She pried open her eyelids to see Anna kneeling in front of her, an amused, but concerned look on her face.

“Someone isn’t handling her alcohol too well,” The dark-skinned woman teased lightheartedly.

Bessie replied with a “Mmmm” then a hiccup. Anna laughed.

“Honey, I think you should stick to water for the rest of the night.” Anna said, brushing a sweaty lock of hair out of Bessie’s damp face. “Wanna take your jacket off? You might be a little cooler.”

Bessie nodded and set her cup of water down so she could remove her jacket (with Anna’s help, of course. Her fingers were a little clumsy).

As they did so, a voice piped up.

“Elizabeth Blount?”

Bessie and Anna both look up to see a man with unruly brown hair and shrewd hazel eyes looking at them from the kitchen island. Bessie recognizes him as Thomas Cromwell, a kid who used to go to high school with her. They didn’t end up going to the same college, so he must have been invited or the party was open to students from other campuses, too.

“Well, I’ll be damned! Elizabeth Blount!” Thomas laughed, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Especially with all your clothes on!”

Bessie’s blood runs cold. At her side, Anna’s brows knit together in concern. The older woman stands up protectively.

“Who are you?” She demands.

“Thomas Cromwell,” Thomas answers openly, “Who are you? Someone new Elizabeth has tied to her bed?”

Rage flashes in Anna’s eyes.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that.” She seethed.

Thomas is unfazed by her anger.

“You don’t know, do you?” He tilted his head, “Elizabeth hasn’t told you? Better yet: You didn’t hear? You must not be around here. The Whore of London was big talk for everyone when we were in high school.” He leaned in, not one bit wry of Anna’s clenched, readied fists. “Just a fair warning: Don’t go to the bathroom. She’ll try to molest you.”

Bessie leapt up and raced through the crowd of people. She heard yelling behind her- she thinks it’s Anne because Anna had to be preoccupied with Thomas to go after her.

But why would she? Anna must think she’s disgusting now.

That revelation brings tears to Bessie’s eyes. She was going to lose Anna- she didn’t want to lose Anna. She liked Anna a lot. She made her smile and laugh and made the world feel good again.

She needed Anna.

But Anna doesn’t need her. Not anymore. She’s not going to visit her ever again.

Tears flow fast from Bessie’s eyes as she shoves through all the people. Some stare at her in annoyance for being pushed, others are curious as to why she’s crying, and a handful are genuinely concerned. Right as she gets to the door, a cup is thrust into her hands and she just takes it.

Cool night air stings against her burning skin, like dry ice on bare flesh.

Bessie ran away from the frat house until her legs screamed in pain and she finally had to slow down. She took a few deep breaths and sipped from the cup she was holding. Whatever its contents were burned her mouth intensely, searing down her throat as if she was swallowing molten lava, and she nearly spit it back up. However, she forced herself to choke it down and drink it all.

She’s left sputtering and frothing liquor at the lips, but she desperately needed the relief it’ll cause. Alcohol was a depressant, after all. Bessie didn’t think it was possible for her to get even more depressed, but here she was.

It was going to be a long walk home.

#sweet shop au #six the musical #six the musical au #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #anna of cleves #bessie on the bass #catherine of aragon #catherine parr #anne boleyn #thomas cromwell #banna #bessie x cleves #tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: pot

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

Detective Sidestep

While the rangers lick their wounds, Sidestep does his best to work the case, while dealing with his own issues.

This’s mostly experimental, first attempt at writing something like this. Hope it’s entertaining to read!

Enjoy. Also, Spoilers like usual!

_________________________________________________

CHARGE

“Hey, can we have some privacy?” Ortega asks, looking sweaty on the couch as Elyise kisses his fingers, sitting beside him. She smiles in turn, looking at you.

“Oh. Right right Right, of course. I was already leaving anyways. See you two later” you say picking up your backpack.

“Take care!” he says

“Leave some bad guys for me!” Elyise pleads.

“And don’t you worry, I’ll remind her to get to your patrol! You’ve got my word she’ll make on in time today ” you hear him as you walk the corridor while she laughs with that clear voice of hers.

You leave the gym heading out, before putting your mask on again before leaving their HQ.

It’s been the same for weeks. You help Ortega with his Physical Therapy, until Elyise comes in, and then you leave, put your mask on and start knocking criminals down until Elyise is free and you can both complete a joint patrol, going after the big fish of the week.

She makes daily a statement to the press about your stunts -and she’s generous, she praises you big-time- and it gets published everywhere thanks to Reaper’s contacts with the media. Meanwhile, you get to go back home unnoticed and watch it all on TV, with Pidgeon on your lap while having some cold dinner.

You make a really, really good team, and the powered criminals are going down like flies. She’s even better than Ortega at this hand’s down, and he’s saying he’ll ask her to join the rangers the moment he’s back on duty, his team’s already preparing the announcement.

They’ll be the new power couple in town once they’re together, that’s all the press says, that you are just covering for him, it’s always meant to be Elyise and him. Somehow a picture of them kissing got into the media and it’s made everyone insane. It certainly got you insane.

You’ve made a point to tell them how happy you are for them every time you can.

Happy.

It’s not the same.

It’s not the same and your knuckles end up in bowls of ice every night because you’re punching the criminals harder and harder with each passing day.

Happy.

You just need to keep on saying it until it becomes true.

____________________________________________________________

ELYISE

“So, how are you doing?” you ask as you duck behind the park bench to avoid the flying bladed drone disk aimed at your neck.

“Well I’m coping, you know” she answers while creating a barrier to stop a trio of incoming disks in the air. “And It sucks”

You stand outside your cover shooting at each of them in turn, causing small explosions and reducing them to pieces. Diskmaster turns tail and starts running at that. Coward.

“It can’t be easy,” you say as you reassume the chase.

“It isn’t... But I’m lucky... Reaper’s managing everything, and I’ve got Ricardo to keep me sane. I haven’t had that many boyfriends, least of all in hospital bed, you know?” she says running at your side, after the villain. “Glad you were there to save him”

“You pathetic heroes! You are nothing compared to my technological mastery! Prepare to be destroyed!!” Diskmaster says waving his hands and sending a swarm of sawed flying disks at the two of you.

You evade them all, finding a way trough, as Elyise simply pushes them away while still coming trough. Diskmaster stops as he notices you chased him all the way up to a dead-end and turns to you.

“Hahaha! Do you think you’ve got me, heroes? You’re WRONG! Prepare to see my ultimate weapon!”

“Of course I was going to save him! Who else could I make fun off If i hadn’t?” you grin. Also, remember the doctor says he’s going to be running around soon Elyise, so the two of you are going to be the next big hit”

“I know, I just wish I had been there…that night at the docks”

“HEY ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS EVEN PAYING ATTENTION?! I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU NOW!” Diskamter yells standing atop a giant disk with rotating blades.

The two of you turn to him.

“Is he annoying or what?” she asks

“I think he just makes a point of saying something generic every minute” you answer.

“I’M STANDING RIGHT HERE!”

“Believe me, we know,” you say.

“Your arrogance will be your downfall, fools!” He rushes forward with his disk at you, but Elyise has other plans, extending a hand to force the disk back, it’s blade burying into a building while Diskmaster bounces painfully against the bricks and goes down to the ground with a dry thud.

“This isn’t over! You haven’t seen the last of DISKMASTER...!” he says trying to eat up the embarrassment and calling his final disks to surround. But you easily evade them all, walk up to him and knocking him down on his arse with a simple fist to the face. Ouch, your knuckles are in hell.

Elyise comes up to you as the villain starts incorporating again...

“Sweet dreams Diskmaster” the two of you say punching him at the same time.

---------------Cooling down, a few minutes later----------------------

“What was he even trying to steal again? Was it the bank of the Jewelry store?”

“Beats me, I just heard him with over the megaphone with all those crazy disks saying he was going to take over the city and jumped him.”

“Same here,” she says

You take a sip of your soda, looking as he is taken away.

“Why weren’t you there?” you ask.

“Where?”

“You said you wished you were there when the Fiend attacked. You got the call as well, didn’t you?”

“I got it late. I got another call right then, emergency on the other side of town… It was pretty urgent.”

“Oh, I think I saw that. What was it?”

“Ahh… A suicide attempt. At the bridge. A passer-by saw it, and called me”

“Ahh. Those powers of yours must be good to have to stop those”

“They are, yes. Anyways, I should be off. Going to be meeting Ricardo at the infirmary”

“Oh, sure. Take care Elyise”

“You too, Step!” she says, as you share another fistbump.

You watch her as she leaves, the smile dying on your lips as you finish your soda and take your mask all the way down.

You did not expect her to be so bad at lying, nor that it would be so easy to steal her phone.

___________________________________________________________

ANATHEMA

“Why do you keep stealing stuff?” Annie asks as the doctor keeps trying to pull into his skin with a miniature drill.

“I’m gonna give it back”

“I know, but it’s still wrong. You should have just asked her”

“She’s the one who lied,” you say looking into his eyes.

“You’re the one reading her mind. And maybe she has a good reason” he answers, impervious as the doctor pulls a bigger drill and goes at it again, sparks coming out.

“I know there’s something wrong. I told you the Shark had dirt on her too”

“Just like he had dirt on Ortega and everyone else! Does that make him a bad person?”

“It’s not the same!” you protest as you keep fiddling with the phone.

“Seems the same to me.”

“I’m just looking after my friends”

“Is that what you’re doing? Maybe it’s something else, you know?” he says as the drill finally snaps. The doctor, groans, frustrated and takes another drill, more advanced, with a diamond tip. He activates it carefully and applies it to Anathema’s bare arm.

“Something else like what?” you ask lifting your gaze

“I think you’re jealous of her”

“Ahahahaaha… “ you say with your best false laughter “Jealous?! Why would I be jealous?r”

“You obviously are. And you should speak to Ricardo about it”

“Wh… what would I even tell him?”

“I’ve seen you two during training, I’m not an idiot”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you should talk straight to Ortega, instead of making up dirt on his girlfriend!. Wait, that’s the wrong choice of words… You shouldn’t talk straight to him, you should talk ga...”

“I’m not making up dirt! This stuff is real!” you interrupt him before he can finish the sentence

“But you DO like Ortega?”

“I never said that!!!”

“Admit it!”

“AHA!” The doctor interrupts the tip of the drill wet with a few drops of blood. “IT WORKED!” he yells.

“We can hear that,” Anathema says frustrated by the distraction.

“Oh sorry” he says removing his earplugs. “Couldn’t hear myself.”

“It’s ok. What’s the veredict, doc?”

“Well, I think your powers are fully restored by now if the diamond drill’s the only that works. Getting a blood test is going to be hell again now that we’re back to single droplets, but we’ll manage, I’ll have results tomorrow.”

“Wait so when am I good to go?”

“I’d say you have the all-clear right now. Just uh… don’t mess up with that thing again”

“Any idea about how It nullified his powers?”

“Well, obviously the purple spit. There were traces of hero drugs in it”

“Hero drugs?” Annie asks

“What does it mean?” you follow up with your own question.

“I don’t know, and they don’t pay me to speculate. The stuff was decayed, so it didn’t activate normally, it just messed up your existing abilities, but it’s not permanent so that’s the good news.”

“That thing vomited that liquid at him from its mouth. You mean it had hero drugs inside?”

“I assume that’d be the case Sidestep,” he says looking at you. In any case, I’m out”

Annie looks at you as he leaves.

“So it actually spits drugs? What’s next? Maybe it’s radioactive too?”

“Could very well be for all we know. It does bring an explanation of why it chased all those dealers.”

“You mean it’s eating the drugs?”

“Well, they came out of its mouth, right? And he said decayed, I bet gastric acid could decay them pretty well”

“Yuck. Anyways, If I’m clear, I’m totally out of here. Can you pass me my pants and leave the stolen phone alone?”

“LOOK! I was right!” you say holding the phone to his face

“I fail to see how that gets me my pants,” he says annoyed before looking at Elyise’s phone. “And what’s that supposed to be?” he asks looking at the calls log

“It’s the call she got while at the Awards ceremony. Guess whose number is that called her?”

“I don’t know, maybe an obsessed hero who’s trying to steal her man for himself?”

“NO you… !” you say making your hands into fists “Look at the stupid number! The person who called her was…”

_______________________________________________

“The Loanshark?!” The warden asks.

“Yep. We came to visit” you say as you step inside, followed by Annie.

“This area is restricted” he objects

“I’ve got clearance,” Anathema says flashing a card.

“Oh.. uh... In that case… alright. Just wait here, I’ll get someone to escort you two to the medical ward”

“Will do!” you say

“Thanks!”

You sit up to wait, as Anathema takes the seat next to yours.

“Oh shit!” Annie says looking through his backpack. “I forgot my tablets. I should be taking one about now… shit!“

“I know,” you say, taking them out of your pocket and offering them to him.

“Whaat? How do you even have those?”

“I realized you forgot them”

“Oooh… because of the whole…” he does a wide circular motion with his palm at your forehead. “Mind thing?”

“Nope. You just told me you needed to bring them, and I saw you didn’t pick them up from the table.”

“Ah. Well, now I feel dumb. Anyways, thanks! ”

“No problem,” you say “I do hear your thoughts, though, and I know how important Testosterone is”

“You do?”

“Well, some of it. Always wondered though.”

“Wondered what?”

“How did it feel? To change like that?”

“Oh,” he smiles “ Well it wasn’t easy at first but… It made me feel whole. Like I was becoming more of myself”

“A man?”

“Real. Alive. Human” he says with conviction.

“Oh,” you say falling silent.

“Used to be depressed all the time. But thanks to these… I can be my true self.”

And let me tell you, that helps a lot. Thanks for bringing them!”

“I told you, it’s no problem” you smile to him.

“Also, I really need them because I can’t do pellets, patches or injections, you know? Because my skin is..”

“Indestructible, yeah. I suggest you take them now, they’re not going to let us bring drugs into jail”

You can’t help but wonder if maybe there are some more tablets somewhere in the world that could make you feel like a real living human too.

Maybe the rangers are what does it for you?

___________________________________________________________

LEWIE

“Enough games! Tell me why you called Elyise!” Anathema says slamming the table. His bad cop could use some improvement, really.

“Did I really call her? I call lots of people!”

You send a couple of words directly into Annie’s mind. The two of you’ve been practicing this trick for a while now Ask again.

“We know you called her! We have phone records, you idiot fish!”

“Wow that’s racist, you know? Still, why don’t you ask your hero friend instead, if you have the records?”

You turn off the recorder as you interject “Hey Dipshit, we already know you threatened her. We just need to know what did you tell her exactly!” Bad-cop/Psychic-cop always works.

“Wh…”

“And I want to know what THIS is,” you say showing him the Data Rod you stole from him.

Annie looks at it surprised but quickly plays along.

“Ooooohhh so it was you! You stole it from my safe and then you couldn’t open it, is that it?” he grins showing all his pointy teeth. “Well isn’t that funny… I thought she was the one who did it” Of course he’s talking now that you’re not recording.

“Enough nonsense. Tell me what’s inside”

“I can’t. I mean I don’t know what’s in there, and I can’t open it. All I know is it’s bad, really bad for her and could put an end to her career. She’s not what she pretends to be, you know?”

You sigh looking at Annie

“You mean you don’t know what’s inside, and you can’t open it, but you still kept it in your safe? Do you even know who can open it?” he asks

Lewie just grins, saying nothing. Of course, he won’t admit Hollow Ground exists, but the answer is very clear in his mind.

“Alright, alright. You said Elyise’s not what she seems. What do you mean by that? Or are you not going to answer that one either?”

“You know, I think I will, just because it’ll be funny to see you all tear each other apart, I mean since you almost get me killed.”

“You fucking ingrate, we almost all die saving your shark ass!”

“Yeah well you didn’t do a very good job!” he says opening his shirt to reveal the scars and heavy bandaging over his chest wound.

“Still beats croaking you asshole,” you say

“Spit it out already, we don’t have all day” Annie adds.

“Alright. It’s pretty simple really. Elyise, or Riley, she needed help, you know? It’s not easy to escape Mother Superior’s deranged cult of freaky-misfits. So she sought someone powerful to help her. Hmm.. someone who could whisk her away just like that…” he snaps his fingers

“And that wouldn’t be Hollow Ground, right?”

Lewie ignores him and goes on “Powerful people don’t give favors freely. She was asked to perform several tasks, of which I only know about the first ones, which she did excellently. But the last one? That one was very big and difficult, and I was never told what It was, only that it all got recorded there he points at your data rod trough the glass. “So she paid her dues and received the aid she needed to break free of her evil mother. It fell upon me to keep that as insurance since. She even tipped me off when you guys raided my office, she was great.

She didn’t want you finding that little thing in my safe” he smiles “Everyone was happy with the arrangement. Is that a good enough answer, Sidestep?”

“She didn’t tip you off!” Annie protests.

“Believe what you will, It’s not my job to open your eyes kid”.

“Still doesn’t answer why you called her”

“That’s even easier. I just wanted her to stop”

“Stop what?”

“Stop killing us, obviously”

“She wasn’t killing your peple. That was Catastrofiend”

“Have you seen that thing? You both know it’s not a vigilante trying to save the city from drugs. Someone’s guiding it to each location, and I know it was her. She’s a big hero now, and I blackmailed her. She got mad and wanted to erase her criminal past with us so she made some sort of deal with that devil.”

“I suppose you have evidence about this?” you ask, arms crossed.

“Well maybe that the monster appeared just a few months after Riley went batshit and decided she was entering the hero business and calling herself Elyise? And that It showed up at every single location she knew about? Or what about this, when I called her the night of the awards to discuss some sort of truce, she told me to go fuck myself, then hung up, and Catastrofiend was at my door not 20 minutes afterward. Twenty fucking minutes and everyone was dead. How’s that for evidence, you morons?”

_________________________________________________________

You go silent on the trip back, holding on to Annie as he directs the motorcycle. Just two masked heroes moving through traffic. Regular stuff.

“You actually believed him?”

“I didn’t notice him lying”

“All he does is lie”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s hard to tell in a mind like that… but I don’t think he wanted to lie.”

“So… what… Do you think Ortega’s girlfriend send that monster to hurt us all? That’s nuts”

“Someone did send it”

“Where would she even get in contact with something like that?” he asks looking back after stopping next to a traffic light.

“I’ve been thinking about where it came from for a while… I think I have a good theory”

“Of course you do” he groans.

“And… I’d need your help to investigate it”

He nods slowly.

______________________________________________

STEEL

You finally make it back to the desk at the empty office, putting the box on the table.

Just when you think you’ve got everything, you realize you’re missing a piece. Backtracking to the kitchen takes a moment before you return with a slice of the latest “Get well soon” cake you smuggled into their fridge, taking a sip and then a few bites. You’ve been getting these cakes for them and no one’s complained so far, even if you’re the one eating the most out of them. They know you can’t think well without enough sugar.

Ok, time to work.

You open the box, studying its contents. Since the incident and with Ortega’s word you’ve got more or less free reign over the HQ, and thus you did the logical thing and stole everything you needed.

Office supplies galore, glue, pins, red string, and copies of the case’s pictures, paper, scissors, and colored markers. Everything you need to make one of those investigation display boards that Ortega loves so much. But where to start? It’s not as easy as it looks.

You take a large picture of the Catastrofiend taken by Steel’s optical scanner and pin it atop the board. Then you start writing questions, answers, pinning more photographs, then attaching them with the red string… It quickly starts taking shape

“That’s a reasonable assumption,” a familiar voice says from above. You look up, but there’s no one there… just a loudspeaker.

“Steel” you sigh “Are you spying on me?” you say holding off pinning Elyise’s picture.

“Just keeping a record of your thefts”

“It’s just office materials and I’m inside the premises! Plus I’m working the case!” you protest.

“You also took all the ash-trays.” the loudspeaker says drily.

“Prove it!”

A screen on the wall turns on a moment after showing you take one of them and put it in your bag.

“Well ok, maybe I did, but I’ve got reasons!”

“You don’t even smoke” he accuses.

“Well, maybe I have expenses, you know? And perhaps official Ranger ash-trays with your logo on it sell extremely well.”

“So it’s our fault that you’re a dirty thief!?” the loudspeaker says

“Of course it! If you hadn’t all declared yourselves against the tobacco industry these things wouldn’t be even remotely as rare” you say holding one from your backpack. “I mean you shouldn’t have them in the first place, only Hood used them really. Don’t you see? I’m really doing you a favor!”

Your attempt is rewarded with silence.

“OK I’LL GIVE THEM BACK!” you say opening your pack and letting a pile of them over the table. Happy now?”

More silence. You let a few minutes pass, watching your own board critically.

“Could you come in here?” you ask

“What?”

“If you’re watching me make the board, you could come here to help?”

“... I think I can help just fine from here”

“Come on, I can’t talk to a loudspeaker all day, it’s stupid!”

You hear a groan, and then the peculiar loud steps approaching you.

“Fine. I’m here” he says coming trough.”

“They fixed your hands!” you say surprised.

“Barely,” he says, immediately hiding them behind his back.

“Uh… something wrong with them?”

These are supposed to be better.. But they don’t work at all.”

“How so?”

“I can’t really control the pressure. Can’t even take a glass without breaking it, it’s like the first time I got modded all over again, I’ve already gone through this” he sounds clearly frustrated as he explains.

“Want me to calibrate them?”

“No”

“Why not? It shouldn’t be hard”

“Not going to happen!”

“I know how those things work… and I can sense how it responds on your end because…”

“Because you’re a telepath” he finishes for you.

You nod lightly. He hates that word for some reason.

“You’re not authorized to modify my mods,” he says defensively

“Not unless you authorize me. You know I can get it right.”

The internal conflict in his mind is so entertaining to overhear that you have to make a conscious effort not to smile.

“I could get it working in minutes and you know it!”

That does it.

“Fine. But if you somehow make it worse…”

“Great! Now I need tools…”

“Let’s go to the lab… just this once” he says guiding you.

“I love that place!”

“Tell me, was this an excuse to steal more of our stuff from the beginning?”

“I don’t steal, I just borrow for a really long time” you smile following him.

____________Some extensive calibrations later______________________

“Now how’s that?” you ask as you unplug your phone’s cable from the input entry.

He slowly opens his hands, carefully taking the one deck of cards in each, and then starts shuffling them. There’s a hint of a smile in his expression, something that you haven’t seen before, he’s really pleased with the results.

“They never worked so well before” he seems actually … excited? But as his gaze fixes on you, the smile dies as quickly as it got there.

“Thank you” he lets out in a neutral tone “This was actually really helpful”

It’s so annoying not knowing what the heck is his problem with you. You’re pretty sure you didn’t do anything to upset him, and still, it’s always like this. He won’t let himself like you, no matter how hard you try, it’s as simple as that. Whatever may be it’s your fault for trying.

But perhaps that’s why you wanted his input.

“So what did you want my help with?”

“I just need your view on something”

“Fine.”

“Let’s say you’re part of a military unit, right?”

“Sounds familiar”

“Yeah. So, you’re doing missions one after the other… and then they start to go wrong… and you get intel that you’re being sabotaged”

“There’s a traitor, you mean?” he says looking dead straight into your eyes.

“Something like that”

“Anything you want to get off your chest?”

“No! I just want your opinion… What would you do?”

“Do I know who the traitor is?”

“You think you have a good case against them, but you can’t be certain. And if you’re wrong it could destroy your team. And on top of that, you’re not sure if your own feelings are getting in the way.”

He gives you a really long stare, and you can hear him reciting a poem over at the back of his mind as if he was trying to block you from mind reading on purpose. Did you do something to freak him out? What the heck is this guy’s problem?

It takes several minutes before he realizes you’re still awaiting an answer.

“I… I would gather all the evidence I could. And then… confront them directly, trough the proper channels”

“Oh” you let out.

“Not the answer you expected?” he narrows his gaze.

“I… don’t know what answer I expected really. Thanks” you say standing and walking to the door with your pack.

“You’re forgetting your board,” he says, his thoughts confused. “I don’t think I need it anymore,” you say closing the door behind you. You’re confused too. Why did you even ask him for advice in the first place? Oh. Because deep down you respect him, that’s why.

That was not the answer you expected at all. At the farm, the answer would have been to report the traitor in secret to the team leader, and then take out the threat by surprise before it could fester. Maybe there’s more to Steel than you thought.

__________________________________________________

“You hear me? Reception is bad here”

“I do! Did you get to the spot?”

“Standing on it,” Annie says. “Not much left honestly”

“That’s as expected… did you find anything?”

“I… I think you better see it,” he says trying to send you some pictures. They take a while to load.

The first ones open, showing the familiar landscape. Sunken town. Anathema’s standing over the ruins of Mother Superior’s lab.

“At first I thought there was nothing but... But then…”

A new picture shows some ruble he’s removing by hand… and underneath… a perfect round hole dug trough the collapsed ground and debris

He sends another picture, displaying what appears to be a broken down drone. A drilling drone. It has the familiar logo on it

“That’s … That’s Reaper’s company!”

“And we both know of someone who has access to his technology”

“Elyise”. You complete the sentence.

“Yeap. I’m on my way back. Guess you were right about her after all Steps. She came back for her mother after all. We’ve got to warn Charge right away.”

He hangs up, leaving you to ponder on what this all means. You have all the evidence gathered together as Steel suggested. Only one question left.

Are you right about her?

__________________________________________________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #Anathema #Steel #Ortega #Elyise #Investigation #Big chunk of text #SPOILERS!!!!

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ninjacat1515 · 4 years

Text

Monster

( I own Benjamin and Francis)

The vampire was strapped to the table, in pieces, vivisected and open like a book. Benjamin found he had no voice, and no way to articulate his horror. He reeled backwards from the sight; the smell and sounds overwhelming his senses. Gurgles and wheezing squeals were all he could hear.

“Is there something wrong, kid?” a conversational voice came from the other side of the room.

“You don’t look well.” there was this relentless, mocking tone to Francis.

A superiority of both mind and spirit that sneered at anyone unable to take what was presented.

“This was....” Benjamin vomited, nearly unable to even breath. “Only supposed to be a capture, a questioning....what have you done...what are you?!”

A rag caked with layers of filth, wiped the silver blade, and Francis stepped forward, eyeing the young man before him sharply.

“I am a man. Human. A person. That thing on the table is not a person and does not deserve the same considerations.”

Ben hurled himself away from the advance of his mentor, Francis looming over him and seeming to tower to the very ceiling; fists clenched.

“Did you forget what side you’re on, boy? Don’t look at me like that. I see it written on every line of your pathetic, worthless frame. You have sympathy for a leech.”

Mouth and throat gritty and tight, Ben wanted to scream as Francis crouched down to grab him by the shirt. He was hauled up and slammed into the wall. The older Hunter spat in his face, teeth bared.

“If I had been your parents, I would have ended you. This is the real world, sonny Jim. Humans, monsters, and the sniveling bleeding hearts like you getting in the way. Maybe I should toss you in with the other vampire. Think it would play nice with you?”

A steel pocket knife scored gashes along Ben’s arm, which Francis had extended to the point of dislocation. The boy cried out, writhing helplessly.

“Maybe it will Turn you and you can be on the examination table next!”

Ben was released and fell to the floor hard, receiving a kick to the ribs for good measure. Francis gazed down with detached disappointment as he shook his head.

“Parents were Hunters, you went to a school that taught you how to fight...and yet this is what resulted from all that wasted energy and time. A useless sack of meat. What the fuck went wrong? Who fumbled the ball?”

Benjamin scrambled to his feet, anger winning out over fear. He faced his mentor and snarled with pure hatred and disgust.

“IT WAS YOU! ALL OF YOU! ALL OF THIS! I WANT NO PART OF IT!”

He bolted off as fast as his injuries permitted, heading for the armory. A gun, some ammo, and keys to one of the cars. He’d be back, but he would need help. Ben could hear the stomping boots of Francis, hot on his heels.

“It seems you have a death wish.” there was no shouting, just a level tone. And that sent Benjamin into a panic. Francis was always at his worst when appearing calm.

Boiling with fear and rage, Ben grabbed a crow bar; his motions quick and automatic. He spun around when he felt Francis was at his closest and about to grab hold once again. The metal struck the older Hunter in the jaw, sending him staggering back and blinking. He hadn’t expected anything like that. Francis hadn’t even been looking for it, Ben was such a softie.

It sailed through the air and found its mark a second time, going across his temple. Such ferocity... Francis wobbled, senses reeling from the blows. They had been quick, and after the first caught him off guard, the other had landed a moment later.

This kid was trying to kill him. Francis laughed, and seized the bar in one fist. But the damage had been done and his grip was far from being solid. Ben had packed a serious punch. All that energy was being directed towards the wrong thing, but Francis admired him in a way. Finally, he was bringing a real fight to the table.

Ben wrestled the bar from him and stepped way back. Francis fully expected a third swing, however that was not the case and Ben was instead leaving the area.

“Like hell you’re getting away, boy.” pushing through the pain and vertigo, Francis gave pursuit and flung himself at the car door.

With a shout, Ben was forced to brace with one arm and steer with the other. His hair was grabbed and a massive handful wrenched free. But he had to maintain focus and control.

“Think of all the fun we’ll have- I’ll take my sweet time-”

The car swerved at a tree trunk, and Francis was knocked lose; the impact breaking his neck and sending his body tumbling in the mud. Benjamin forced himself to brake and stop the vehicle as emotions roared. He had just killed a man.

Shaking and breathing shallow, he screamed at the top of his lungs. He felt a pit of guilt eating at him like a colony of rats. Francis had been an awful, heartless Hunter...but there was still a body laying in the dirt; twisted and lifeless. Ben sobbed into his hands, flashing back to the crowbar incident. Was he like Francis...was he like the rest...what was he even? He sat in silence for what seemed like ages, staring out at nothing.

Swallowing bile, Ben reversed the car and went back to the warehouse. There were people that needed to be freed. And now there was no one to stop him from doing so. His body felt alien, and the world a hazy dream. The vampire on the table had long since passed on, but there were several others very much intact and alive.

He cut the locks and chains to each cage, the vampires having heard the fight and smelled the guilt and stress radiating from Ben. None of them made any move to attack, nor did they even speak a word. They studied his face, unsure and at a loss as to what to think about this human. Wings fanned out once they were clear of the building, and soon Ben was the only one on the property.

Gazing after the vampires until they were dots in the sky, he went about and gathered his clothes and few other belongings. The box of cash Francis kept was raided for every last cent, and Ben turned on the gas valves in the kitchen. Once he was clear of the blast radius, he aimed a rifle at an old propane tank. The explosion was extensive but given the distance from civilization, wouldn’t draw attention for some time.

He drove the car for hundreds of miles, stopping only for gas and a motel. The cops never searched, and it took a few days for the blaze to get on the local news. By that time, Ben was long gone.

#vampire au #tw violence #tw torture

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

The Way You Once Tasted

Pairing: lay/yixing x reader

Genre: mechanic/getaway driver Yixing (from the exo x Italian Job fic I’ll never get around to writing but can’t stop thinking about), angst, fluff

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1,893

Request: If requests are still open... May I please request EXO’s Lay for lyric prompt 22 or quote prompt 26 and angsty? Thank you and have a wonderful day/night! Thank you for requesting love! I hope you like it <3

A/N: tagging @yixingminseokjongdae and @thegreatxingmibeyond because hello loves, please suffer with me thanks <3 😂 😂 😂

He watches you across his dashboard, hand loose on the wheel. He watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and slide a stack of folders into your bag. He watches you wave to your co-worker and thinks of the past, of how the two of you have wound up here.

How over the course of the last few years he’s gone from a mechanic to a street racer to a wanted criminal about to be part of the deadliest heist anyone could imagine.

How you’ve gone from a graduate student in social work to a detective specializing in white collar crime.

But here you both are, as different as two people can be who once loved each other with enough passion to raze the earth.

Once, he was younger, more innocent, less rough around the edges. Once, he let people in.

The sweltering Los Angeles heat eats away at reality. Perspiration drips down his forehead, stinging his eyes. With a laugh of surrender he wipes at the sweat and continues working away on the engine of the Pontiac GTO in front of him.

He hums to himself, blissfully lost in his own world.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ a voice calls from the front of the store.

He sighs and sets down his tools. Yixing stands and grabs a towel to wipe off his face and hands.

‘Back here!’ he calls out, strolling out through the roll-up door to see who on earth could possibly need help on a Saturday night.

The sight of you, looking stunning and polished even in the scorching heat, makes him stop. You brighten when you see him, taking off your sunglasses and smiling at him; a daydream in a soft blue dress that makes him swallow and run a hand through his undoubtedly messy hair.

‘Oh, thank God,’ you start, sweet voice washing over him like Spring rain. ‘My car broke down a few blocks from here and my stupid phone is dead and I just -’ you sigh and laugh to yourself. ‘It’s been a hell of a day and I’m so happy to find you.’

He can’t fight the lopsided grin. ‘Well, now that you’ve found me darlin’, what do you plan to do with me?’

Your cheeks tint pink and you huff at him, crossing your arms. ‘If you’re going to be an ass, I’ll find somewhere else.’ You hitch your purse higher up your shoulder and turn to leave.

The setting sun turns the oil stains on the concrete technicolor and he stifles a laugh, wondering if it’s magic or disaster that you’re bringing into his life. If you’re the kind of trouble he should stay far away from or if you’re the kind he can’t help but chase.

‘Wait,’ he says and walks over. You turn back to regard him cautiously, raising a brow. ‘I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I was only kidding. It’s hotter than hell in there and I seem to have lost my manners.’

You purse your lips at him. ‘Did you happen to find them in the last two seconds?’

He laughs out loud at this. ‘You know, I believe I did. My name’s Yixing and I’d be more than happy to help you. Would you mind telling me what happened?’

For a long moment you stare him down, considering. He’s been judged, sized up, dozens of times in his life, but never has he felt so exposed.

It should drive him mad the way you seem to be stripping him down to his essence before his very eyes, but it doesn’t. He likes the way you watch him, and he holds his arms out in surrender, meeting your gaze with his own.

‘Do I pass inspection?’ he teases, voice lower than a moment ago.

‘For now. Come on, the car is this way,’ you say and start walking.

He doesn’t miss the satisfied smile on your lips as you turn away. He can feel in his bones the fabric of his life changing at your arrival.

His hand grasps the wheel tighter until his knuckles turn white. Of course, as fate would have it, you’d be assigned to this case. He wonders if you even know he’s a part of Junmyeon’s heist yet.

If you felt anything when you heard his name again. Yours was a punch in the gut when Baekhyun told him that the cops were onto them.

It should drive him insane, to not know how you got here. What happened in the past five years to bring you to this point? He’s sure the story is just as strange and unexpected as the one that brought him here.

You push out the front door and step onto the sidewalk, deeply inhaling the hot air.

On days like these he wonders if you still feel him all over your skin the way he feels you on his as the temperatures climb.

As you slide behind the wheel of your car, a boring white Toyota Corolla, he groans.

Do you remember how you used to be?

Wild and carefree beside him, cruising down the back roads late at night. Shoes off, feet tucked up underneath you. Chin resting on your folded hands on the rolled-down window, looking up and watching the stars with a smile on your face that makes him want to do something wildly impulsive, like ask you to marry him.

The way you shatter beneath him in the backseat of his old lime green Camaro, somewhere out in the desert between LA and Vegas. Radiant, powerful, your head thrown back and your nails clawing at his shoulders. Vulnerable and raw and open when you pull his forehead down to yours so you can watch him find his own climax.

Did you know it then? He wonders to himself as he starts the car and follows after you. Did you know that it wouldn’t last? Or were you just as naive and hopeful and blinded by love as he was in those early days?

He aches inside to know you again. To be who he was when you were together.

At a red light you lean your arm out the window, fingers tapping. You always had more energy than you knew what to do with, he smirks to himself.

‘Come on, please? We’ll be back in no time,’ you plead, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He chuckles. ‘Absolutely not. Just because we can drive all the way to Cabo in a day, doesn’t mean we should. Don’t you have class on Monday?’

You come around to the front of him, kissing the underside of his jaw and making him melt. ‘Please, baby. Let’s chase the sun. You work so hard. I’m so burned out after midterms. Let’s live a little. One night on the beach with you would make the rest of the quarter so much easier to cope with.’

He groans. ‘Dammit, you know I can’t resist those puppy dog eyes,’ he laughs. ‘Fine let’s do it.’

With a squeal you leap into his arms, teasing the hair at the back of his neck with your lithe fingers. He staggers for a moment, reaching for you and grabbing your ass in his hands.

It should unnerve him, the way that nothing else in life matters when you’re together. But he ran out of desire to care about anything other than you the first time he kissed you - covered in grease and dirt that stained your pretty blue dress, against your broken down car on the side of the road.

The light changes and he almost lets you get away. It would be easy, he thinks. Finish this job, take the insane amount of money that will make up his share, and leave. Hit the road. Chase the sun.

Not stop until he forgets the way you used to linger in his mouth after he kissed you. The endless nights and mornings and hours in between with your lips on his, your tongue in his mouth, the taste of you surrounding him.

But he knows, deep inside him, that there’s more to the story of you and him. Chapters he can’t know yet, and he wants to rip the rest of the book out in-between to skip to the ending.

What will become of him, you, once this is all over?

The lights are too bright to think in the shop and he runs a tired hand over his eyes.

He’d rather be at home with you, settled between his legs while you study or write papers. Playing with your hair and dropping kisses to your shoulders and neck. Hearing the sighs and soft moans that only he can elicit from you.

But instead he’s stuck here, working on a rich man’s car that he most certainly won’t appreciate properly. Just as he bends down to resume working on the carburetor the sound of footsteps distracts him.

A breeze comes in through the roll-up and his skin prickles. ‘Baby is that you?’ he asks.

‘Close your eyes,’ you say, peeking around the corner, amusement in your voice.

He fights a laugh and raises his eyes to the ceiling before closing them. ‘Alright they’re closed.’ How he ever could have thought you were a well-behaved woman the first day he met you, he’ll never know. He’d do anything for you, his heart, his muse, his minx.

The sound of your footsteps get closer and he can sense you standing in front of him. Drawing out the moment.

He can almost feel the satisfied smile on your lips as his breathing slows, deepens, waiting. You reach for him, running your hands lightly along his chest, relaxing him with your presence and your touch.

Your hands trace his collar bone, stroke along the column of his neck, rub his temples. He sighs and leans into you, unable to stop his hands from reaching for your hips.

Once he thought he was whole on his own, capable of being independent.

But now that he’s met you he knows he’s not whole without you, the other half of his heart.

When he finally, finally, feels the soft press of your lips against him, the heat of your body against his, the moment stretches out for an eternity.

He groans into your mouth and lifts a hand to cup your chin, tilting your head back so he can fuse his lips to yours more fully.

You sigh and greedily tug at his hair, pulling him closer. He backs up until he rests against the car, feeling the length of your waist and hips with his palm; savoring your taste against his mouth.

A moment later you pull back. He whines, making you laugh softly. When he opens his eyes you’re looking up at him like he is every good thing you could ever want.

‘What was that for?’ he asks, heart in his throat, as he strokes his hands possessively through your hair.

‘I just missed you, that’s all,’ you answer, eyes as bright as stars.

No, he thinks to himself with a reckless enthusiasm. This isn’t over yet.

He changes lanes so he can see you, your hair streaming behind you from the wind, and he lets the rumble of his heart and the car’s engine push him forward. To whatever ending.

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #yixing x reader #yixing fanfic #lay x reader #lay fanfic #exo au #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo m

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enby-hawke · 5 years

Link

Summary: Hawke loves dragons and this is his very first dragon fight. I made up some magic that doesn’t exist.

Word Count: 7815

Pairing: Lots of flirting mostly between oblivious Merrill, oblivious Hawke, and super annoyed Carver.

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

Bethany was still not talking to Hawke and neither was Mother. That didn’t change the fact that rent needed to be paid and Hawke had only gathered half the coin needed for the expedition. With Carver in tow, Hawke circled through his usual contacts, trying to drum up some work. After one no turned into 8, and the morning slipped to noon, Hawke decided it was time to get a drink and ask Varric for ideas before his temper made him do something stupid.

“I have the usual escort and delivery jobs, but if you’re looking for something bigger, I’ve heard of another opportunity...but the patron is….”

Varric trailed off, and Hawke sighed into his glass, the growing headache an unwelcome guest. “What, he a templar or something?”

“Orlesian.”

Even Carver joined in the groan. “Maker, we’re desperate aren’t we?”

“When are we not?” Hawke chuckled back. “What’s the job?”

“Just to check on his mine. Apparently, none of his workers have clocked out of work since Saturday, but also none of them have reported home. He won’t say what the reward is only that it will “exponentially paid,” whatever that means. Eh, maybe count me out today.” Varric knitted his eyebrows as he pressed his pen to his tablet, but with two words written, he’d erase three. There were at least three drained mugs of spiked coffee that Edwina still hadn’t bussed, but whether they were from last night or this morning Hawke couldn’t tell.

“Why not? You always come along,” Hawke grinned. If anyone could use a break from his room, it was Varric.

Hawke continued to feed scraps of his sausage and eggs to Boof under the table. The mabari had his head on Hawke’s lap, begging for more with his big brown eyes.

Varric set down his pen, rubbing his temple as he adjusted his reading glasses. “Maybe cause “The Bone Pit” is haunted with ghost slaves and spiders and Maker knows what else. You want to get cursed? Be my guest. I’m good.” Varric grabbed a not drained glass of spiked coffee and took a swig.

“Already cursed. It’s not such a big deal,” Hawke shrugged nonchalantly, but mischief crept into his eyes. “C’mon, Varric, where’s your authorial pride? Think of it as a research trip. A haunted mine could be the perfect setting for your next book.”

“I write action thrillers with a dash of political intrigue,” Varric argued. He pushed Boof away when the dog tried to push his head in his lap.

“Y’know I’m kind of with the dwarf on this one,” Carver said, picking at his stew before pushing it aside.

“Hey eat, you’ll need your strength,” Hawke pushed the bowl back in front of Carver. His brother grunted but resigned himself to shoveling the stew into his mouth. Hawke turned back to Varric. “Besides we don’t have a car. It’ll take forever to walk,” Hawke gave his biggest puppy eyes and even left his chair to kneel on the sticky floor, both hands clasped pleading. “Pleeeeeeeeeease.”

“Maker,” Varric caved. He always did. “Fine, but only because writer’s block is kicking my ass.”

Hawke jumped up, a spring suddenly in his step. “Great! But I should drive. You’ve been drinking.”

Varric barked a laugh. “So have you, genius. We’ll put Donna on autopilot.”

They picked up Isabela since they were already at the Hanged Man and Merrill just happened to already be in her room. Isabela didn’t like the idea of traipsing through a boneyard but when Merrill wanted to go, she resigned to tagging along. It was kind of like that ever since Hawke introduced the two, and that worked out since it was fun to watch Carver attempts to talk to Merrill. Though he was rooting for them, he couldn’t help but join Isabela teasing them.

Varric introduced Hawke to Hubert Bartiere in the Hightown Market where he had a store that sold everything from high-end fabric, perfumes, and of course his featured item, polished gems and jewelry mined and crafted “locally”. The man knew Hawke was Ferelden as soon as Hawke introduced his dog. He was less than impressed. Both Carver and Hawke managed not to punch him.

“You’re a mercenary, right?” Hubert glared at the odd party of humans, a dwarf, a Dalish elf and a mabari.

“I do a bit of everything,” Hawke shrugged.

“Well you’re good at killing and that’s what I need. I sent a group from the Wicked Dawn’s to take a look and they haven’t returned. I’m starting to think they made off with my coin. You, I won’t pay until the job’s done.” He continued to primp the mannequin displays, trying to end the conversation.

Hawke wasn’t satisfied with that and tapped Hubert on the shoulder. “But what is the reward? The listing isn’t clear.”

The man looked repulsed at the fact that he had been touched and took out a handkerchief, patting himself down. “I don’t know the extent of the problem so it depends on what you find there. Rest assured you will be fairly compensated. I am a reputable and fair merchant.”

Varric snorted at that, which told Hawke what he needed to know. The mage crossed his arms, planting himself in front of the mannequin in a peacock dress. “Not taking one step out of Kirkwall unless we each get 50 silvers each and then we can discuss a potential bonus-depending on what I find.”

The man looked outraged, his temple vein popping. “Where does a dog-barbarian get off making demands like that?”

“I can vouch for him,” Varric offered. “Whatever’s going on in your mine, Hawke can solve it. He comes with the Tethras guarantee.”

Hawke grinned cockily, imagining his fist was knocking out one of the Orlesian’s teeth.

The man sniffed sharply. “If it turns out my workers are just being lazy I will want my money back.”

‘And you won’t get it,’ Hawke thought, but he nodded offering the man the peace of mind he needed.

The man reached into his pocket going for plastic coin chits, but Hawke held up his hand in refusal. “I prefer coin.”

“I will need to go to the bank to convert it over. That may take some time as I can’t leave my stall. Perhaps you should go and check on my mine while you wait.”

Hawke grabbed the chits angrily. “Taking these for collateral. You can exchange them after I come back.”

The Bone Pit was only about 15 minutes away flying on Donna. You had to pass it when you left the city to get anywhere else. “Oh don’t look so grumpy, Varric,” Hawke nudged the dwarf, Donna’s wheel automatically adjusting course. “Didn’t you say hanging out with me is always an adventure?”

“Don’t butter me up, Hawke. You’re just using me for my wings.”

When they piled out of the car, Boof galloped out, dashing wildly in a wide circle causing Merrill to giggle.

“Boof!” Hawke called out. The dog bounced off a boulder and bounded back towards Hawke, and sat at attention, his feathery tail quivering as it swayed from side to side. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the fresh air, bud, but we have a job to do. Lead us to trouble.”

Boof nodded instead of barking, his puppy demeanor shifting instantly to wardog. Then he dashed away, before dashing back, then dashed away again, impatient at the humanoids much slower stride. The mine itself was strangely abandoned, pickaxes and tools and even luggage and blood were strewn about but no people. They kept their hands on their weapons as they explored, sometimes jumping at the sound of some birds scattering as they approached. The wind whistled through the mountains carrying cries of creatures that they could not place. The air was cold, the veil felt thin. You could feel the Fade weighing down from the midst of haze that hovered overhead.

Boof led them to the foot of a cave, where they saw a miner still dressed in ratty clothes. He was lying face down, several spider punctures tore through his shirt, where the man had been drained of blood. Strangely, his back was also burned, his skin had bubbled and stinking the air with singed flesh. The corpse had been scavenged, huge chunks of his torso that had been chomped out, most of his organs missing, but all the days-old blood was dry and flaking. “Poor man,” Merrill said. “It might have been a rage demon.”

“Or a dragon,” Hawke whispered, his heart suddenly in his throat. The heat that had done this was intense, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Suddenly Boof crouched, growling menacingly. They all turned to hear several high-pitched screeches. Hawke recognized the cry and dashed after his dog, casting a haste spell to keep up.

“Hawke!” he heard several voices shout behind him, but he wouldn’t slow down. The bright lantern lights danced with the shadows in the cave, echoing with the pounding of his gait. He kept running until he saw a clearing where about 20 drakes of all at varying sizes huddled. At the head of the pack stood the broodfather, fully mature at about 10 feet tall, and he breathed out a territorial fire at the sight of the intrusion in his nest.

“Aaaaaww, Boof,” he groaned. “It’s not a dragon.”

The drake screeched charging, the other younger drakes following in tow. Hawke sighed, it was still a fight and he still had to take it seriously. Deciding to save bullets, he grabbed the staff from his back, unfolding the blades with a click of a button.

The mabari was eager to charge but Hawke put his hand up. “Not yet, Boof,” he said and the dog sat down, waiting.

He channeled his magic into his staff, building up energy. When he collected enough, he waved his hand, imagining where he wanted ice to form. All beneath the charging drakes, sigils of ice mines formed exploding some smaller drakes into the air. Crystal crept and spread across the dirt and stone covering the drakes path with slippery ice. The smaller drakes began to lose traction, sliding and falling, but the largest drake dug his claws into the ground, steadying himself, digging claw after claw as it pushed its way out of the ice field.

The others were just beginning to catch up when they gazed out towards the damage already done. “Boof and I got the big one if you guys want to take the smaller ones,” Hawke grinned, causing Carver to roll his eyes. Hawke then pointed at the broodfather. “Boof! Tear out his throat!”

The mabari yipped in confirmation and bolted from his seat charging for the enormous drake. It bellowed, breathing fire but the dog bounded and bounced out of the way. Hawke aimed at Boof, and cast a haste spell, speeding up the dog’s gait so the drake could not aim properly.

Bullets and magic and Bianca’s laser bolts shot past the broodfather picking off the still slipping lesser drakes. Carver had decided to opt-out of this fight. He was now turned away, the tip of his greatsword buried in some dirt. Boof was in front of the drake now, and it swiped at the mabari with its meaty claw. Boof yipped, bouncing off its arm and then back to the ground. The dog jumped back up, raking his claws into the drake’s skin and pushed himself upwards. Boof barked triumphantly, clamping down on the drake’s throat and started to shred. Blood spurted out of the wound and the dog wriggled, tearing open it’s tough leather hide.

Hawke nervously watched his dog swinging through the air, his staff following as he aimed a barrier at him. The drake was moving erratically, turning and twisting and slipping and Hawke could not get a clean shot. The drake kept swiping at its neck, and it was only a matter of time before Boof would get hit.

“Boof, return!” he ordered and the dog released his chomp and pushed off the drake. Hawke managed to cast a barrier as he landed just in time for the drake to swipe. The claw sparked against the barrier, sending the dog flying backward towards Hawke. Boof scrambled to his feet and shook his head all the way down to his feathery tail. That was close.

The drake was dying now, all the other lesser drakes almost picked off by the others. Carver was sulking. Sure Hawke was disappointed it wasn’t dragons, too, but at least they were in the same family. “You want to finish it off, little bro?”

“Go ahead,” Carver muttered, not turning towards Hawke.

Hawke shrugged. He didn’t know what he did wrong this time, but he didn’t feel like playing into Carver’s mood. The drake was approaching now, trying to breathe fire, but it could not manage it any longer and the flames only went a few inches past its mouth. Hawke chose an ice spike, aiming carefully. He shot it, the air whistling as the large chunk of crystal shot from Hawke’s hand and into the wound Boof had opened. The spike pushed through its spine and through the back of the dragon’s neck. The drake gurgled, swayed and fell with a thud.

“Is that all of them?” Merrill asked, breaking the sudden silence.

Hawke sheathed his staff onto his back. “There may be more. We should clear out the cave just in case.”

They had found the rest of the miners and the mercenaries Hubert had sent earlier. The corpses were dragged behind a knocked-down wall only days open strewn about the nest in a shallow pile. The bloody bones were in the process of being stripped clean with gnaw marks chewed in. Armor was scattered in shallow piles with a single torso still trapped stuck into its chest plate-dented from where the drakes had tried to peel it off.

Hawke and Isabela, of course, halted the group to check to see if they could find any coin or other valuables amongst the scattered body parts. Both of them dug through pockets and bags throwing whatever didn’t interest them over their shoulder which could either be a rock, a button, a shovel, or a foot. Isabela pried off a gold ring off a mercenary’s gloved finger inspecting it closely. Hawke collectively found 126 silver and split amongst the group. Isabela, like always, kept all the coin she found and the ring, but still was still happy to receive her share.

“Nice!” Hawke grinned as he divided up the piles. “It’s even.”

“I still don’t know why Boof needs money,” Isabela eyed the pile before Boof, who was busy cleaning himself.

“Oh c’mon. Boof deserves a king’s meal after taking out that drake.” He collected Boof’s share and put it on the money pouch on his armor harness. “I’m treating him to a special dinner after this,” Hawke grinned at his pup who looked up at him with his tongue still out. “Your pick.”

Isabela groaned as Hawke suddenly started baby-talking his dog showering him with kisses over his snout as Boof’s tongue would stretch trying to reach Hawke’s face. She didn’t bring up that Hawke was always treating his dog to “special dinners.” Boof’s happy booming bark bounced against the cave wall, as he rolled onto his back, demanding belly rubs.

“Quiet, Boof, we don’t want to wake the nest.” Hawke said sternly.

Boof then boofed, his throaty bark muffled in his throat as he begged still belly-up.

After a short-ish belly rub session in which Merrill joined, they spent the next few hours exploring each nook and cranny. Hawke kept hoping for a dragon. There was a whole nest here, but he knew Mothers didn’t usually stay near the brood. She might be nearby, or anywhere in the mountains, if she was there at all. They kept going when they heard the sound of a cry. It was a man’s voice, and he was terrified.

“We’ve got a survivor,” Hawke told Boof. “Find him.”

Boof nodded, dashing forward and the party followed to find a man who had climbed on top of a rock. He was surrounded by 5 lesser drakes about as big as Boof. They clicked and growled trying to climb up the rock, but the red-haired miner kept kicking them back down with his lone spare boot, his other dirty pink foot bare.

He spotted the group and shot an arm out towards them. “Help me! Please!”

Boof corralled the drakes, herding them away from the miner. Hawke was about to shoot a fireball when he remembered he didn’t know this man and waved at an overly eager Merrill to put down her staff. Carver and Isabela understood and they charged alongside Hawke with Merrill lagging behind, her staff at the ready. Varric picked off drake after drake with throat and eye shots. There were only 2 left by the time Isabela, Carver, and Hawke arrived. Isabela grabbed one biting head and shoved her dagger in its eye. The drake squealed before keeling over. Carver chopped off the other one’s head and it rolled away, it’s tongue flopping. Hawke having nothing to do started helping the man down from the rock that he was trapped on.

“Oh thank the Maker. I thought I was gonna die.”

“Yeah you got pretty lucky,” Hawke nodded, steadying the man. “How are you? Need food? Water?”

“I’m thirstier than a son of a bitch. I’ve been trapped in these caves for days now,” the man replied causing Hawke to dig through his bag and bring out a thermos and some jerky. The man took it and greedily downed the whole thermos leaving Hawke with just the backwash and then inhaled the jerky.

“Thank Mythal you’re ok,” Merrill said, leaning against her staff. “How did you survive?”

“By hiding mostly,” he replied, coughing on the meat. “I spent most of my time in a crate, with the quarry, but my thirst got the better of me. I tried to make my way to the entrance but those dragons sniffed me out.”

“Actually, those were drakes,” Hawke corrected.

“What’s the difference?”

“Drakes are primarily male with few exceptions, have no wings, and only grow a quarter of the size of-,”

The man held up his hand. “Sorry I asked. I just really want to get out of there.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hawke felt embarrassed that he had gone into lecture mode about drakonis. “Sure, the way back should be clear.”

Hawke started to move forward but the man grabbed him by the shoulder his murky brown eyes manic with fear. “You can’t go through there. There’s a huge dragon.”

“We can handle it,” Hawke shrugged. He probably meant another drake.

“No, you don’t understand it’s much bigger than the others- with the horns and huge wings. You don’t want to go out there.”

Hawke suddenly lit up. One with wings? Could he be telling the truth? “Let’s go, Boof,” Hawke dashed off, his wagging dog yipping in agreement.

He could hear the others only barely turning the corner, their footsteps echoing against the cave walls. “Will you slow down?” Carver shouted.

“She might not be there if we wait too long,” Hawke called back over his shoulder.

Hawke’s ears were pounding with the thud of his heartbeat. His breathing was erratic and only Boof seemed to be able to keep up with his hastened gait. He dashed out of the cave and onto a rocky plateau where she lay, curled up like a cat, her head tucked into her hefty claws.

He was paralyzed, his heart galloping in his chest and for a few moments, he could only stare. “Holy fuck it’s really a dragon,” Hawke whispered just as the group caught up with him.

Hawke was visibly trembling. He thought he would disintegrate at this moment. She was young, only a few heads taller than a full-grown drake and her scales were a sandy color. She had two sets of outstretched horns that ended in sharp, bony points. Her claws were like obsidian and about half the size of his mabari and they twitched as the dragon slumbered, unaware of the intrusion. For a few moments, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat and he breathed alongside the beast.

“This is the best day of my life!” Hawke’s voice was not quiet and there was a chorus of shushes.

The dragon stretched and moved and Carver pulled Hawke back into the cave before his brother could go charging. The Abyssal snorted, but settled back into its dream. “Elgar’nan, she’s big,” Merrill whispered, peeking around the corner.

“Don’t worry I’ll protect you,” Carver told Merrill. Then he turned to Hawke, strapping his greatsword to his back. His voice was still low and wary. “This might get messy. Mind if I borrow Dad’s gun?”

Hawke’s eyes lit up. “The Armorwing?” He was too loud again and was shushed.

“Yeah, we never had a real chance to try it out,” Carver grinned back.

Hawke waved his hand excitedly, opening a portal, and reached into the white void. He called to his mind the image of the gun, trying to ignore the sudden ache as a soft memory of daily shooting practice bubbled into his thoughts. Suddenly, he could remember the first time he held the Armorwing and quickly squashed down the flood of memories that threatened to come crashing in. A few moments later, he felt it wrapped around his fingers and he pulled out a silverite assault cannon with a barrel about 2 inches wide. 6 different colored runes were into 3 buttons on each side.

Carver slipped the strap into place adjusting it to his size and as he fiddled with some of the settings while Hawke hovered over. The rest of the party was dumbfounded.

“Now remember we’re going to want to stick to ice settings for most of the fight. She’s fire-aspected.” Hawke pointed at the snowflake rune which made Carver snort, and he pressed it before Hawke could.

“I know how to use it. Just don’t get us killed,” Carver muttered. He clicked off the safety and stared down the sight.

“How in the Maker’s name did two broke Fereldens get their hands on an Armorwing?” Varric asked.

“Didn’t I tell you? My dad helped invent them,” Hawke shrugged.

“Oh, I guess that explains everything then,” Varric replied, his tone stating the opposite.

“Don’t worry, it's got nothing on Bianca,” Hawke grinned.

Isabela followed, exchanging her knives for her handguns. “Great we found the dragon- Let’s kill it while it’s sleeping,” she began to aim but Hawke shoved his way forward bounding like the mabari that trailed his feet- in front of Isabela’s aim.

“Oh sweet Maker,” Carver groaned.

Hawke didn’t even notice his party but was addressing his dog rather seriously, his arms crossed looking into the mabari mutt’s deep brown eyes. The mabari’s long feathered tail was wagging wildly somehow understanding. “Now this is our first real dragon fight, Boof. She’s young but it’s the real deal so keep up, okay. She looks maybe 50 summers at most, but don’t underestimate her. Her flame sac is fully mature. She will be able to create a gaseous flame that burns at about 1600 degrees Celsius. Boof! That’s hotter than lava!”

“Lucky,” Carver cleared his throat. He seemed more annoyed than horrified.

“Right, right,” Hawke nodded and then nodded to his dog. “Got that? No catch. Stay behind me if it gets rough-”

The dragon was starting to awaken because Hawke wasn’t exactly being quiet. The party fidgeted, with varying degrees of anger to fear, except for Carver who was just sighing and looking up to the sky for help.

“Uh, Hawke what the fuck are you doing?” Varric whispered not that it mattered if he was quiet any longer. The dragon slowly opened one scaly red-eye, it’s gaze fixating on the bubbly mage who was enthusiastically stretching his arms and lunging.

“Looks like it’s time.” Hawke clapped his hands in glee then placed them on the ground. Pebbles trembled and sudden spikes of boulders shot up from the ground, startling the dragon. A circle of spaced jagged rocks juts out one by one making makeshift barriers on the platform, while one boulder raised right before Hawke’s feet. The dragon crouched defensively, dodging the spikes as she took to the air with several wind-inducing wing beats.

The dragon bellowed the air grew stiff and dry and flames shot down at Hawke, who pressed himself behind the center boulder. Everyone dove undercover as the flames flooded the platform melting some of the rock. “Whoooooooooooooooo!” Hawke whooped as the flames split against the boulders shooting past him and blackening the rocks in front of him. He only had a small pocket where he and Boof huddled as the flames licked past them, the heat sweltering the air, making it thin.

The dragon finally stopped inhaling and swooping far into the air beyond the reach of bullets and laser bolts.

“Maker she’s so beautiful.” Hawke was shouting now. “Alright everyone barriers will last only about 4 seconds at best under direct fire so best stay undercover and stay light on your feet.”

Merrill chirped from where she was ducked under a rock near the mouth of the cave. Carver was guarding her with his body, the Armorwing clenched in his hands. He swore under his breath as Merrill drew her staff, her eyes wide and trembling but she just said, “Let’s try not to get cooked, everyone. It’ll smell awful.” Somehow she was just able to accept that this was happening.

“She’s magnificent,” Hawke laughed maniacally. “Aw man, does anyone want to record this?”

Isabela and Varric just glanced at each other from their cover, not sure if they should gang up to kill Hawke.

“You’re mad, you know that?” Isabela cried. She fired several shots at the dragon, as it circled around them trying to make runs in the safety of the skies, but the bullets just sparked against her underbelly. Varric shot a laser from Bianca but it only scorched the scale. Carver shot one hole in the center of it’s right wing. The dragon screeched, echoing through the mountains. It breathed flames again, and everyone dove back under cover of the boulders. But though its hide was blackened it didn’t seem to do much damage.

“Her underbelly’s harder than steel,” Hawke cried. “Aim for the fleshy part of her wings to bring her down.”

Hawke aimed an ice spike at the dragon’s eye but she tilted, veering left and the spike shot past her. Isabela shot up with her handgun, the dragon flinching each time a bullet bounced off the wing but one bullet went clean through, blood spurted from the wound. Merrill flung spells and bolts up at the dragon in support but the dragon seemed to be absorbing the magic.

The dragon gurgled, it’s mouth lighting up as it swooped down for another pass. “Cover,” Hawke called out. Boof barked and they both dove behind the boulder again everyone ducking for safety. The rocks were steaming still red with flame that slowly died into embers. Their cover would melt away if they took much longer. The dragon honed in on the dog, following it with its flame. Boof galloped towards the edge of the arena bouncing against the rocks to lift him just beyond her reach. Hawke shot at the dragon's head, another ice spike grazed her eye, scraping it and it’s turned its head, the fiery stream blasting away from the plateau.

“Boof, you alright?” Hawke called out, his voice high and panicked.

The dog barked from behind a boulder.

The dragon bellowed zoning in on Hawke, circling back around. Varric was following the dragon with Bianca, Carver with the Armorwing, Isabela with her handguns. They both took turns shooting holes in her wings whenever they had an opening. Some of Varric’s laser bolts bounced off the bone and impaled themselves into the rock with glowing red spikes. Isabela aimed for parts already bleeding, but Carver’s ice absorbed into the dragon causing it to shriek every time he managed a hit. The dragon hovered above, steadily losing traction, when a huge rock flew from what seemed like nowhere and smacked the dragon on it’s nose.

“Nice one, Kitten!” Isabela grinned in approval.

“Watch out!” Merrill shouted back.

Blood spurted from it’s nostrils as the boulder continued undeterred into the sky. The dragon tumbled down, crashing into the rocks which slid away clearing half the platform.

She shook her head, her red eyes a little glazed but quickly spotted Hawke and started slinking into range.She gurgled, her teeth glowing orange as she inhaled.

“Lucky!” Carver cried out as Hawke fleeing behind the lone center boulder still steaming from being hit from all sides. He could not get too close to the melting rock and he could feel the heat on his back.

The flames wrapped around the boulder scooping out and filling the space. The dragon continued breathing fire approaching the boulder, the flames curling around the side singing Hawke as it became a hot bowl of flames. Hawke cast a barrier absorbing most of the indirect heat but the dragon was determined to burn Hawke out of existence and kept breathing out.

His barrier was cracking, the protective glow quickly fading. The heat was getting through and his skin began to blister. He called healing magic to run through him, trying to keep up with the damage.

“Hold on Hawke!” Merrill cried. A sigil formed around Hawke and lighting him up with a soft blue glow underneath before another barrier encased his body.

The dragon held out for a few more seconds before she could breathe no more, and it took a long ragged gasp. “Carver, now!” Hawke cried, but the dragon once again began to inhale.

The dragon swiped away the melting boulder, leaving Hawke completely in the open. Carver cried out dashing from the dragon’s flank and buried his greatsword deep between two scales in the dragon’s neck where it snapped off. Blood squirted from the wound and the dragon breathed out short premature flames that Hawke was able to dodge. Carver then grabbed the Armorwing, aimed it at the wound, and shot several rapid ice bullets. The ice burst through the other side of the dragon’s neck, the bullet’s sizzling against the stone as they bounced off. The dragon bellowed, stomping all across the ground, causing an earthquake and Carver struggled to maintain his footing as he dodged the dragon’s swipes.

Boof barked, charging at the dragon his hackles raised and chomped down on the wound Carver just made. The dragon flailed, trying to shake the dog off as he shredded the wound. The ground shook, knocking Carver off his feet. Hawke dove forward while the dragon was distracted and rolled under her head where the soft underside of her mouth was exposed. He drew his staff from his back, and with mana-enhanced force he jabbed the blade upwards through the soft scales into the roof of the dragon’s mouth snapping it’s maw shut and snuffing out the flames. Hawke cried out, channeling all his energy into one large lightning bolt that amplified through Hawke’s staff and sizzled the dragon, frying its brain. The dragon’s head swerved and began to fall and Hawke rolled and kept rolling until her seventy-pound head shook the ground with a thud.

The dragon twitched, flapping its wings erratically as it tried to take flight again. She attempted to open her mouth, but the slick black staff held firmly in place. Flames shot through its teeth and nostrils as it rattled its last breath. It’s great red eye slit focused on Hawke, his reflection staring back as the life seeped out of the creature until the dust settled and all was silent.

Varric stepped out from behind his melted boulder, Bianca still raised at the creature. “Andraste’s flaming tits. You idiots did it.”

Hawke threw up his arms whooping as loudly as he could. Flames shot from Hawke’s mouth, a stream of triumphant fire blasting over the dead dragon as he mimicked her breath. Carver tackled him screaming excitedly, snuffing out the flame. Both of their cries bounced off the mountains of the Bone Pit. Soon Boof was shaking himself off and joined in howling on top of a boulder, safe from the heat of the hot stone. Hawke grappled Carver, trying to corral his head into a noogie, “Fuck yeah, little bro. First fucking dragon! Who’s kick-ass now!”

“Get off me,” Carver laughed twisting out of Hawke’s grasp quite easily since he was about a whole a head taller and twice as broad. “You idiot! You almost got us all killed.”

Merrill giggled, as the brothers wrestled for dominance. The mabari stayed barking at the brother’s, demanding one of them pay attention. The brothers twisted and squirmed, until Carver slammed Hawke into the ground, forgetting the stone still glowed with heat.

“FUCK!” Hawke’s scream echoed and he jumped to his feet, the back of his arms were singed and stinging. He had already been nursing burns and this just reopened them. Embers flaked off his leather armor and faded as they fell.

“FUCK!” Carver’s hands were sweltering where he had caught himself on the hot stone. His fingers trembled in the pain, parts of his palms bubbling.

“What kind of idiot gets more hurt after the dragon battle?” Varric chuckled. He was writing something in his travel notebook.

“The kind of idiocy that’s genetic,” Isabela rolled her eyes as the brothers nursed their wounds.

“You guys should be thanking me,” Hawke called back. “That was awesome!” He was already running his hands over Carver’s so they weren’t as much of an angry brown-red. Then he ran a spell through his whole body, the stinging easing just a bit. When he was done, he finally noticed that Boof was licking his paws, also bloody with burns. “Oh Boof, I forgot your shoes.”

“Are you all alright?” Merrill called out. Speaking of shoes, Merrill’s had no soles in spite of Hawke’s and Isabela’s insistence she get a sturdy pair of boots. Even if she did, everyone’s shoes were melting into the stone. She was still at the edge of the platform, safe, but trapped.

Hawke ran up to the boulder that Boof had taken refuge on. He was laying on his side panting, but with happy eyes. Lucky dug into his blood to fuel one more regeneration spell, his hands closing the burns on Boof’s back paws. Boof licked his dark gold snout, closing his eyes as Lucky worked.

The skin was growing, but it still looked tender.

Still need to visit Anders.

“You did great, bud,” he rubbed the dog’s floppy ear affectionately then hoisted the pup up over his shoulders so he wouldn’t have to walk on the scorched ground. The dog turned his head, licking Hawke’s cheek.

Then Hawke walked over to the dragon head and put one hand on its snout, the scales still warm. The Abyssal’s head was as half as big as Hawke’s body and he felt this great sense of peace as he gazed into the dragon’s eyes. “I’ve been dreaming of getting close enough for forever and...” he couldn’t finish his thoughts and turned to Varric, odd eyes gleaming with excitement. “You think we can bring the head with us?”

“Why in the Maker’s name would you want to?” Varric snorted.

“I don’t know. It’s cool.”

“Where in Gamlen’s hovel where would we store it?” Carver said.

“Fine, then I’m at least taking a tooth or else no one at the Hanged Man will believe me. Wait! Someone take a picture!”

“I got a selfie stick,” Isabela cried out digging through her bag.

“Um, you guys go ahead,” Merrill called out at the gathering group, still stuck at the edge of the platform. “I think I might just wait until the ground cools down.”

The group exchanged glances before Hawke nudged Carver. His brother looked annoyed that he was shoved. Boof licked Carver’s head as Hawke leaned in close. “Go be a gentleman,” he whispered, winking.

Carver blushed deeply, Isabela and Varric snickering. Carver undid the strap of the Armorwing, handing it back to Hawke to put away. “Uh…Merrill?” he started out awkwardly taking only a single step forward.

“Yes, Carver?” she called back.

“If you’d like I could…carry you?” Carver looked like he might keel over.

Her green eyes lit up in relief, but her pointy ears twitched slightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t wish to be a bother.”

“Ridiculous!” Hawke cried, shoving Carver forward with his free hand,“Carver’s great a picking up beautiful girls.” Immediately Merrill went beet red all the way to the tips of her ears. Boof barked as Hawke’s grip slipped putting the Armorwing back into the portal. Quickly, he hoisted the dog back up onto his shoulders.

“Lucky,” Carver said warningly, looking nervous as he gazed back at him.

“Go get her,” Hawke whispered.

The three of them unashamedly ogled as Carver, red-eared, walked up to Merrill his feet slightly dragging. He rubbed the back of his neck avoiding her gaze. She had a habit of staring intensely and Carver couldn’t seem to stand the scrutiny. “Would you like a piggyback or would you prefer bridal style?”

“Bridal style!” Hawke hooted, causing Carver to glare at him murderously.

“Oooh, swoop her up in those big strong arms!” Isabela teased.

“That’s my vote!” piped Varric.

“It’s not a vote!” Carver bristled, his brown freckled skin deepening all the way down to his neck.

Merrill seemed to look confused, not quite understanding what Hawke, Varric, and Isabela saw as so amusing. “Um…I don’t know what either of those mean so just…whatever makes you most comfortable.” She held out her arms straight out towards Carver, unsure what was going to happen.

Carver awkwardly leaned down since he was a head and a half taller, and placed her hands on his shoulder. “Kind of link your hands so you don’t fall-”

She removed her hands from his shoulders and clasped her hands together, waiting for her next instructions. Carver, not wanting to correct her, tried to push his head through the hole in her arms but his head was so big he just pushed her arms up, confusing Merrill.

“You’re brother’s real smooth, Hawke,” Varric chuckled.

“It’s like watching a drunk monkey pet a cat,” Isabela cringed.

“Yup,” Hawke replied. This was painful.

Finally, he thought to grab her hands, unlink them, throw them around his neck and then press them back together before he finally scooped her up by the knees causing her to yelp in surprise.

He steadied himself as she flailed squeezing onto him and then carried her back to the dragon where Isabela was fixing her phone onto the stick. “Finally, lovebirds,” she teased.

Carver glared at her in an effort to shut her up but she just waggled her eyebrows as she extended the stick and then held it up in the air. They huddled around the dragon head with Hawke sitting on top, gripping each horn. His dog still draped around his shoulders licking his lips and panting heavily. Carver was carrying Merrill to his right, Merrill smiling sweetly, but Carver’s face looked uncomfortably serious. Varric and Isabela were to Hawke’s left, both linked arm in arm and grinning. Isabela was making a peace sign.

“Say “dragon!” Hawke yelled out.

“Dragon!” only Merrill and Hawke called out as they snapped the picture.

They took several more photos since Isabela didn’t like how she looked in the first one. She held up the group for 5 minutes adjusting her hair and make-up in the camera on her phone. When they finally got a picture Isabela didn’t hate, Hawke insisted he has one with his head inside the dragon’s mouth. It took a bit to pry out his staff and he also got a lot of drool in his hair for that idea. Then Hawke picked the biggest, sharpest tooth he could find took 15 minutes of digging it out with his dagger. Boof scrambled off of Hawke’s shoulders and settled himself on the dragon’s neck, watching his packleader work. Finally, when Hawke successfully pulled out the tooth and put it in his pocket, the party turned to leave. But Hawke, instead of following, turned the dragon’s head on its side started sawing at the dragon’s throat.

“Lucky,” Carver said warningly. “We’re not taking the head with us.”

“I’m not,” Hawke grunted, tearing the dragon’s throat-wound open gingerly, his hands slick with blood.

“Uh…Hawke gets a little crazy around dragons.” Varric stared at Hawke like he was completely unhinged.

“You have no idea,” Carver muttered.

“Just a sec.” Hawke couldn’t focus on talking. He set the bloody dagger down on the dragon’s head and used his hands to peel down the top of the muscles gingerly. Then when he had a big enough opening, he dug his hands into the dragon's throat. He didn’t have to go very far to find what he was looking for, the Abyssal’s flame sac. Carefully, he felt around until he could see in his mind exactly what the gland looked like. Then pulling out his right bloody forearm, he picked up the dagger again and slid it inside, carefully shearing away the tendons that held the firm sac in place.

The party watched in horror as the blood gushed onto Hawke, who seemed to not mind it one bit. The sounds of squelching and ripping filled the air and Isabela looked queasy. “Anybody bring a bucket?” she covered her mouth.

When it was free, he tucked the blood-drenched dagger back into his sheath on his belt and pulled out a small red fleshy ball that’s center glowed orange. Its thick skin was veiny, almost see-through and it beat like a heart.

“Isn’t it amazing? It’s her flame sac.” Hawke breathed excitedly. “Look her magic lives, but it’s not as warm as I thought it would be.”

“Uh…that’s great Hawke,” Varric replied. He was eyeing his friend, who was drenched with slick, steaming dragon blood from his face all the way down to his melted boots.

Isabela whistled, “Good call. An extinct dragon gland can probably fetch at least 100 sovereigns. Maybe more in the right circles.” She dared a peek just in time for it to beat. She gagged and turned away. “Glad I didn’t have to do it.”

“We can probably fund the expedition with this!” Carver said.

“I was thinking of giving it to Merrill, actually,” Hawke replied, causing the Dalish elf’s eyes to widen in surprise in Carver’s arms. “I mean we’re not too far off from funding the expedition and Abyssal flame sacs are especially potent at cleansing magics. Perhaps it will help purify your eluvian shard?”

Merrill’s green eyes were so wide Hawke thought he might fall in. “Oh, n-no, Hawke, I couldn’t. You need it more,” her face was red as she stammered.

“We can find coin anywhere,” Hawke shrugged, “but restoring an eluvian? That’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. Besides that barrier probably saved my life. I owe you,” He smiled at Merrill who was beaming back until he met Carver’s gaze. Somehow he had pissed him off.

“Um,” Hawke said awkwardly, “I’ll just put it away until we can store it properly.” He was suddenly feeling self-conscious. He waved his hand opening up an interdimensional portal and stuck the sac in the reflective portal before closing it, his brother still glaring coldly.

“Great, great,” Varric muttered. “Now can we go home. My pants are singed and I think all the rubber’s melted off my shoes.”

Hawke leaned on Varric, slicking blood onto him. “Buy me a drink, Varric. I’m a dragon-slayer now.” He waved his hand into a fist dramatically.

“It’s your turn, dragon-kook,” Varric groaned as he looked at his clothes, an impression of blood slick where Hawke had made contact.

They bantered and teased Carver all the way back to Varric’s car. At one point Isabela had to flee from one of Hawke’s blood-drenched hugs. Merrill had not noticed she was being carried the whole time until they arrived at the car which caused Isabela to hone in on Carver’s reddening face. “You didn’t realize? Really, Carver? Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“Ask me out to what? That sounds fun!” Merrill cried.

Carver looked like he would crumble under the laughter.

On the way home, Hawke had been forced to strip down to his small clothes and hose down with magic before Varric would let him into his car.

“You’re easy to get naked, Hawke. I just have to ask.”

Carver refused to look at him. Merrill was red, fidgeting with her seat belt refused to even glance at him the whole time. When Hawke tried to make conversation she would squeak and refuse to say anymore. Isabela stared in approval. “You do keep fit.”

Hawke refused to part with the dragon tooth and he refused to clean it. He wanted to remember this moment exactly as it was. Varric did made him put it in a plastic grocery bag so it wouldn’t drip and he clutched it happily. He rode home with one towel beneath him so he wouldn’t wet the seats and one towel draped over his shoulders. His curly hair was frizzing and messy. Boof’s head laid on Hawke’s lap as he sprawled across his brother and Merrill, his feathery healing paws now wrapped, and twitching in his sleep.

“You know, Hawke, I had a thought,” Merrill’s eyes were purposely averted from him, her voice high and uncomfortable.

“Yeah, Merrill,” he looked over to her and she dared a peek. His one brown eye, one blue met hers, and she gasped. Hawke’s unbridled joy was spread in the biggest grin, his brown freckled skin warm and bright, and he was of course completely nude except the tight superhero boxers that clung to his drying skin.

Her eyes went wide and stayed wide as she slowly looked away, her whole body rigid and stiff with some expression Hawke could not decipher. “Uh,” she said and gulped. “Why didn’t you just put the dragon in your portal?”

Everyone’s expressions fell dark as Hawke’s mouth fell open. For a moment he just gawked at her brilliance. “I could kiss you!” he shouted, startling the slumbering pup who barked in protest. Carver clenched his fist, ready to punch him as Merrill suddenly fell and bonked her head on the car window. Hawke obliviously shot forward, placing one hand on the dwarf’s sagging shoulders. “Varric, we need to turn back!”

#hawke #dragon age fic #lucky hawke #dragon battle #day drinking warning #hawke is an autistic nerd #and unashamed dogdad #ok now to do some art until my sister calls or 2 hours have passed #i might see my niece today #nervous and excited

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