#also noticed that apparently our last name was entered wrong in the system | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honestlyfragile · 3 years ago

Text

JUMPSTREET - Mark Lee x Johnny Suh

Pairing: Mark Lee x Fem!Reader, Johnny is Mark’s bestfriend, Mentions of Jaehyun and Yuta

Genre: university!au, police!au, a dash of fluff, smut,crack, fraternity!au

warnings: mild violence, mentions of guns, drugs, sexual themes, language

Summary: Mark and Johnny were partners in crime, but when feelings get in the way, will Mark stick to the law or go against it?

Wc: 15.4k

also posted in Ao3

a/n: I hope you enjoy this story heavily inspired by the 21 & 22 Jumpstreet movie franchise, and hopefully I was able to deliver it with my own ideas. Enjoy!

Mark and Johnny start their first official day as policemen after being together in most of their high school years and studying criminology in college. They could not be more excited to see people make trouble until today.

"Let's see who's going to be able to make his first arrest." Johnny bets, scanning around the area with a cup of coffee in his hand, the other on his waist.

"Dude it's a park, what the fuck could possibly happen here?" Mark retorts, unamused.

"Oh you know, it's a crazy world we live in these days." Johnny defends, his gaze fixed on his surroundings.

"Sure it is." Mark continues to read his newspaper as he stands side by side with Johnny.

The two try to at least roam around and patrol over the area, looking for at least an ounce of any violation, it didn't matter if it was serious or not.

Mark spots a kid of about 9 years old near the pond, about to drop a piece of bread into the water.

"Excuse me kid," Mark bluffs, as if it were his first catch of the day. Technically this is his first catch of his career, hopefully.

"What?" the child frowns and looks at him obnoxiously.

"Read the sign," Mark points to it and the kid's eyes follow, but disobeys him anyway.

"It says don't feed the ducks!" Mark argues, but the kid is unbothered.

"Let it go Mark, it's not like bread will kill them. Plus, you can't arrest a child." Johnny scoffs and tries to drag Mark to another area.

Mark lets out a sigh as the kid sticks his tongue out and he does the same before turning his back.

The two had nothing better to do, they were rookies who just got newly assigned to an area that didn't even have any trouble. Almost like they were just there for the sake of. Of course the department treated them as rookies.

Johnny takes out his pistol out of boredom and tosses it for fun. "Woah you know those are loaded right?" Mark warns him while involuntarily taking a step back.

"Yeah and?" Johnny continues to toss and play with it.

"Unload it first!" Mark panics like the goody two shoes that he was.

"Then that would be no fun." Johnny shrugs.

Mark spots a group of middle aged men from afar, but not quite. He squints and tries to take a closer look with his binoculars.

"Yo check it out, aren't those the Outlaws?" He nudges Johnny's shoulder as he takes a look himself.

The Outlaws are a known motorcycle gang in the county, they aren't always bothersome but the both of them are determined to find a loophole.

The two approach the group of men and tell them off because they have parked their motorcycles illegally. But that's not the only thing they notice, these men were stoned. One lights up a joint of Marijuana shamelessly, and Johnny loses his temper. "Excuse me Sir, you do know that the use of Marijuana is illegal right?"

"Oh look," the hideous man spits on the ground. "They must be new. He has the guts to talk to us like that. Nice to see some fresh kids here. You sure you aren't dressing up for... halloween?" The man specifically has his eyes on Mark when he said the last sentence.

Feeling offended, Mark straightens up his stance and acts more like a grown man. "That's a nice joke sir, now hand it over." He says in a stern voice.

"What a scary fella, keep up the good work! Sorry I don't have candy with me." They tease and the two have had enough.

"I'm going to have to search your motorcycle now sir." Johnny insists and doesn't wait for a response, and opens the seat and finds packets of a fine white substance. "These are.." he halts.

"DRUGS!" Mark shouts and immediately gets pushed by one of the gang members.

Johnny immediately gets a sample and keeps it in his pocket and takes his gun out. Mark gets up and does the same. The men try to run away and escape, Johnny runs after them and Mark takes his bike. The two finally get to corner them and Johnny pits one of them on the ground.

"You have the right to," Johnny tries to utter the Miranda Rights as he puts handcuffs on the man that is trying to eagerly resist him. "To shut the fuck up!" Johnny was being too focused on trying to handcuff the suspect and forgets to recite the rest,

Reciting those did not even cross Mark's mind as he just also focused on trying to handcuff the man.

"You are coming with us!" He yells and drags them to the police station, which was only a few meters away from them now.

--------

As the case was investigated, their chief commends them but then discovers that they forgot to recite the Miranda Rights, which can possibly make the charges be dropped, but thankfully the violation to the law was enough for the men to remain in jail.

"Technically you still did this wrong," the chief puts a hand on his chin and taps the polished wooden table. "But since you're just starting out, i'll give you another offer."

The two young men eye each other, anticipating the chief's suggestion. "An offer?" Johnny asks, straightening up in his seat.

"Jump street." The chief says.

"Wha- what's that?" Mark furrows his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Since the both of you look younger than the rest of the people here, our undercover police unit is in need of officers." The chief informs.

"Please, continue." Johnny lets him explain further.

"You pretend to be college students. It's practically the same, but it would be more suitable for the both of you because it's your crowd. You see crime and injustice, you report. But, you will be disguised as college students to ease the procedures of trying to find what those students have been up to. We have your back." The chief explains.

"Cool." Mark simply says because he is astonished by the idea.

"So where do we report? Do we have a new head quarters?" Johnny asks.

"You will be transferred. Down in 21 Jump St." The deputy Chief declares.

____

They head to the headquarters that was disguised as an old chapel. "You sure this is the one?" Mark questions as he gets out of the car.

"It does say 21 Jump St. so, let's have a look." Johnny turns off the engine and both of them enter.

The setting was a typical chapel, but it was dark and full of stock equipment. Mark takes a look at the altar that was dimly lit, and bows before the image of Christ to show respect . Johnny on the other hand was not a person of religion but follows Mark's simple gesture anyways.

"The both of you!" A man shouts from afar, and it echoes, "come over here."

The two are startled but proceed to the hidden room. When they enter they see two women who are already disguised as cheerleaders. Meanwhile the two are still in their police uniforms. The ladies take a look and have a good laugh at them. "You do know that you're supposed to go undercover right?" She says, eyeing them from head to toe.

"W-we didn't get the memo that it was gonna be today.." Mark trails off and fidgets with his hands.

"Go and dress like teenagers! Now!" The chief commands and the two quickly change right away.

When they get back they are briefed by the set of rules they have to follow and about the goals of this undercover project.

"Rule number 1. DO NOT get expelled. No one in the system knows that you are undercover. So be disciplined and don't cause major trouble. Getting expelled would mean that you'll get your asses kicked out of jump street." The chief sternly explains, making the assigned officers hold their breath from fear.

"Rule number 2," the officer walks past the rest and stands in front of Johnny. "DO NOT have any sexual or intimate relationships with the students and professors. You hear that pretty boy?" And specifically locks his eyes on Johnny, making the boy gulp and purse his lips. After the general meeting, the two were called for a detailed one, personally with the chief.

It was said to them that they had to find a synthetic drug that has been spreading around the campus called NCT. A sample of its packaging was shown, it was definitely something you wouldn't think of as a drug. It was about a size of a large coin, and looks like a small biscuit. It was sealed using assorted hand drawn stickers of different objects. They were also advised to never give out their real names, because new identities have been assigned to them. Johnny's being Rolan Kim and Mark's being Kalen Park.

"When the youngsters take this drug, it apparently makes them laser-focused on studying for about an hour. And for the succeeding hours, they party like it's fucking 1999 until they pass out. Infiltrate the dealer, find the supplier." The chief gives his final orders and sends off the both of them for their mission.

-----

"Dang, we're really going back to college?" Mark says as he finished up packing his things for the dorm that the agency assigned to them. They had to be as realistic as possible.

The two head to the university, reminiscing their own college days. The two might perhaps over-do this whole "blending in" thing, which might give out the disguise.

"Woah their campus is HUGE." Mark says, mesmerized and wears both straps of his backpack.

"Bro, that's not very college of you." Johnny fumbles with the strap of Mark's backpack.

"What?"

"You're two strapping dude. You have to just sling one of them on your shoulder, so it's cool and grown up. You're in college, not middle school." Johnny fixes Mark's bag for him.

"Right. College." He utters to himself. He seems to be enjoying it too much, and starts saying hi to everyone he sees.

"Knock it off, Mark. You're giving us away." Johnny nudges his arm and tries to cooly stride along the campus, keeping his composure.

Mark acknowledges him and goes with the flow. The two arrive in their dorm that they gladly share only among themselves. Mark is new to this, because when he went to college he stayed with his parents. Thankfully he could trust Johnny to always have his back.

The two set their things down and pick their beds, it didn't really matter much since the room had two singles and separate desks for the both of them. It also had a small book shelf that could come in handy, if they ever plan to take lectures seriously.

"Let's just fix these later. We have to go to the Dean's office to confirm our enrollment. Act natural okay?" Johnny lazily brushes his hair back and straightens up his shirt in front of the small mirror that the vanity had.

"Oh- uh okay." Mark leaves the pile of his clothes undone on top of his bed and grabs his phone and keys.

It was the afternoon of fall, the campus has been covered with different hues of orange leaves and subtle sunlight. The breeze was cool but not strong as it blew against their hair. The university seemed peaceful, but they had no idea what went on once the sun sets and the lights are off.

After a couple minutes of walking, the two arrive at the Dean's office for their interview.

"Good afternoon gentlemen, please take a seat." The middle aged man smiles at the both of them.

The two are slightly nervous, but eventually get over it. "Nice to meet you, Mr..." Johnny reads the name plate on the desk "Mr. Bennet." and gives the man his signature smile. Mark does the same and they start their interview.

"Okay, so which one is Rolan and which one is Kalen?" Mr. Bennet asks and there was a short period of silence. Two had seemed to forget which identities were theirs.

Johnny raises his hand, "I'm Rolan sir. Rolan Kim." and he nudges Mark's shoulder.

"Ah yes and I'm Kalen... Park" he barely manages to blurt it out.

The dean furrows his eyebrows but lets it go and proceeds. "So the two of you are?" He asks. They were not prepared for that question.

"Brothers."

"Family friends." the two say at the same time. They give each other a funny look, and Mark gladly saves them from the mishap. "Well we do really treat each other as brothers sir, we grew up together pretty much." and clears his throat. A close call.

"That's good to hear. So Rolan is going to be trying out for the football team and Kalen will try out for the Music club. Those two are very different from each other, but don't worry the opportunities in this school are endless. You can always transfer if you feel that you aren't happy with what you chose." The dean explains and the two acknowledge.

Mr. Bennet goes a little further with the interview and gives them their schedules for the semester then eventually dismisses the two, wishing them well.

"Dude how can you forget the identity that was assigned to you!" Johnny quietly scolds Mark for his slip away.

"I'm sorry okay it's a little confusing!" Mark scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor.

"Ayt, I'll see you later. I have Chemistry in 15 minutes. I can still catch up. What about you?" Johnny asks, putting his hand on his pockets and the other on Mark's shoulder.

"Well, I don't really have any classes for the day anymore. I guess i'll head back to the dorm so I can start unpacking already. I'll see you then. Let me know if you find any leads." Mark gives him a small salute and heads back to the dorms.

-----

Johnny arrives in the lecture hall and receives strange looks. He tenses up a little but nonetheless shrugs it off and takes a seat next to a boy who looks like a whole generation younger than him.

"Yo, you look really old. Were you held back?" The boy asks in a nosy manner, unintentionally pushing Johnny's buttons.

Johnny clenches his jaw and keeps his composure. "No I don't... You look young. Super young. Were you held forward?" he tries to redeem himself.

"No? Whatever. I'm Haechan by the way." The boy introduces himself.

"Im Joh- Rolan." Johnny almost slips but the latter doesn't notice.

The professor immediately hands a quiz, which Johnny has no idea of because he arrived at an odd time of the semester. He guessed all the questions with all his might. But to be quite honest he also wasn't the best in chemistry when he still went to school.

He turns his paper in and walks towards the exit but gets stopped by Haechan. "Uh do you need help with the topic? You seem to be clueless about it." Which came off as a little rude, but that wasn't his intention at all.

"No." Johnny insists because it hurts his pride. "I know everything." He stiffens up.

"Yeah? Do you know what a covalent bond is then?" The boy cheekily asks.

Johnny bluffs, because he doesn't. Or to put it in a better light, he forgot. "Fuck man, I don't have to tell you what it is."

"Woah, I wasn't trying to be rude. But anyway if you need help you can just ask me. See ya." Then Haechan was off and got lost in the sea of people.

Apparently, it was Johnny's last class for the day because it was already almost evening. He texts Mark to inform him that he's heading back to the dorm as well. He doesn't let his guard down and continues to observe the students if they're up to anything suspicious.

As he walked to the dorm, he saw a bunch of boys that were about as tall as he was but more athletic gather around the corner of the football field. He acts nonchalant but keeps an eye on what they are up to. He tries to move closer to the scene without getting caught and acts like he's only passing by.

"Yo hook me up with some more of those, I can't fail my classes or else i'll get kicked out of the team." One says to the other.

Johnny immediately pulls his phone out to text Mark about what he just heard and hurries back.

-------

"Dude, as expected the football team has it. I'm trying out tomorrow and I'll surely get with them." Johnny discusses with Mark.

"Yeah? Can I come watch your tryouts? So I can see what they look like." Mark requests.

"Sure. 2pm at the field." Johnny informs him.

The two were mostly busy arranging their stuff in the room until they heard a knock on the door. Mark offers to get it.

"Hey new neighbors!" two men appear with big smiles.

"Oh hey, uh... thanks?" Mark blankly answers as he was usually awkward meeting with new people.

Johnny comes and checks to see who it was, and to his surprise, it was Haechan and his roommate.

"Oh hey Haechan, and hey..." Johnny looks at the unfamiliar guy.

"Renjun." He smiles.

"Right Renjun." Johnny nods. "Oh by the way Kalen, I go to the same biology class as Haechan." Johnny calls Mark by his fake name.

"Oh cool, what about you Renjun, what's your major?" Mark asks.

"Classical music!" Renjun enthusiastically says.

"Oh I'm in Music Prod! I'll probably see you around during org meetings." Mark smiles.

Their neighbors introduce tips for them that could be useful during their stay and seem to be genuinely nice people. But Mark and Johnny cannot trust anyone, so they keep their guards up and try their best to not give anything away.

Although it may have seemed like an easy task for them, it wasn't. The drug was all over the school, it was going to be difficult to find the root of it if they ignored even the smallest details that could lead them to find out the supplier.

---

The following day, the two wake up early ready to officially start the day. Mark and Johnny head to their own classes, hoping that they find out something about the case today.

Mark enters the lecture hall for his Philosophy class. It was almost 80 percent full as it was a basic class for almost everyone. He awkwardly looks around, hoping to find a seat that wasn't as far because of his bad eyesight.

"Psst." You try to catch his attention. When he looks over, you tap the vacant seat next to you, "you can sit here." You offer.

"T-thanks." He says and gives you a smile.

"You seem like a new face. I'm Y/N" You say to him because you have observed the people in this class every day.

"I'm Kalen. Kalen Park." he scratches the back of his head. "I uh, just got enrolled yesterday. You know, when your family moves into another town... yeah" he trails off with his made-up excuse.

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it." You genuinely assure him, "It's college. You can take your time." You chuckle because he was so awkward, but seemed very kind.

"Definitely." He bites his lip, unsure if he should keep talking or not. But the professor arrives just on time.

He observes his surroundings and keeps an eye on suspicious students that might have a link to what they were looking for. He whispers to the guy in front of him who was just playing games on his laptop and wasn't listening in class. "Hey, do you know where I can get myself some NCT?"

The guy raises his brows in doubt, "are you a narc?" and might have said it way too loudly.

Mark tries to brush it off with a stiff laugh "What are you talking about man? I'm not I swear." and refuses to make eye contact.

The airhead lets it go and slips mark a cellphone number that could possibly be a step closer to what they were looking for. "Just text them "looking for a hookup" and they'll know what you're talking about."

"Thanks, man." He gives him a small pat on the back just to show that he wasn't up to anything, which actually just makes him more suspicious. Thankfully, the guy didn't really care.

Mark was delighted to have found a lead easily, and immediately texts Johnny about it. After that, he actually paid attention to the class, just because it genuinely fascinated him.

When it ended he immediately gathered his stuff and put on his backpack, ready to meet Johnny.

"Psst, two strapper!" You call out and try to barely tap his shoulder.

He looks back and immediately drops one strap of his backpack off his shoulders, he definitely forgot about what Johnny has advised him. He scratches the back of his head with his hands on his pocket, "yeah?"

"You free this evening?" You casually ask.

He nervously gulps because he really has to be somewhere right now, but he didn't want to be rude. "Uhm, I guess? I don't know yet. Why?"

"We're having a poetry slam at the art hall, you might be interested. I saw some good stuff you wrote in your notebook" you smile, hoping that it doesn't freak him out that you saw one of his works.

His eyes widened, "oh, okay cool I guess I can try. But I have somewhere to be right now, I'll see you..around." And he awkwardly walks off.

You furrow your brows because of his strange mannerisms, but he seemed like no trouble at all. In fact, it was kind of cute, how awkward he was.

------

It was time for Johnny's football tryouts. Given that he was already good at it during the time that he was actually in college.

Johnny was naturally a sociable person, he blended well with crowds and easily made friends. That's why this was the perfect place for him to be in. He sits himself at the bench while he wears the spare uniforms from the team and is greeted by a dude that was a little shorter than he was, "Goodluck" the boy with ash purple hair says.

"Thanks!" he enthusiastically replies.

"Captain! We need you for a sec." the coach calls, then the boy who has wished him luck gets up and reports to the coach. Well, he did give off an impression of one. He was highly presentable, his smile was hospitable, his form was great and his attitude was pleasant. Everything else—was just the ideal makings of a captain.

The tryouts start and Johnny looks around for Mark, who had just arrived and casually sat himself on the bleachers, waving at Johnny from afar. As the tryouts went on and finished, the coach praised everyone who attended for a job well done and announced the new members who had qualified. All of which included Johnny of course.

"Hey man, great job out there." The captain is back on Johnny's side to praise him.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm Rolan by the way." He introduces himself.

"Of course I know, I was the one who picked you from the list." He laughs, "Jaehyun. Jeong Jaehyun."

-----

"Hey!" Mark hears a familiar voice faintly calling his name. He searches for it but takes him awhile because of how wide the campus is. "Over here two stapper," you chuckle and he finally sees.

"Oh hey," he muttered quite embarrassed at how awkward he was.

He takes a seat next to you at the bench near the hall of the poetry slam event, he wanted to go together. "Chilly night huh? I should've brought my sweater.." You trail off, rubbing your arms for warmth.

You didn't mean for it to come off that way, but Mark willingly takes off his jacket and offers it to you. "Oh it's alright really-" you insist.

"No it's fine, I'm from Canada, this is nothing." He laughs.

You nod your head with his remark, and proceed to wear his jacket. It was quite big on you, but it was definitely cozy. "Shall we go?" You ask, standing up.

He nods and lets you lead him to the hall. The campus was only lit by lamp posts at this hour, but there were many sculptures in the school of arts that he had wished to see better. Well, there was always next time.

The both of you enter the hall which was quite filled with students already. It had been set up like a cafe, with a small platform in front that was lit with a spotlight.

"Give it up for Naya Kim everybody!" the emcee announces, encouraging everyone to give the person a round of applause after presenting a spoken word. "Do we have another volunteer?'

The crowd falls silent as everyone looks around, mindlessly making eye contact with each other, waiting on who was going next.

"Anyone?" The emcee taps the mic.

"I have one!" You yell, and Mark looks at you with wide eyes.

"Dude no-" he resists, trying to shrink himself into his chair.

"C'mon it'll be fun!" You nudge his shoulder, "We have Kalen over here!" You grab his wrist and raise his arm for him, even if he was resisting it, he had no choice.

The emcee squints and eyes the both of you and acknowledges you volunteering your new friend. "Alright we have Kalen next! Stage is yours." The emcee steps off.

He had all eyes on him now, eyes hungry of anticipation and to witness raw talent amongst themselves.

"G-good evening everyone." he greets, holding onto the mic tightly and takes a deep breath. His expression changes into a serious one.

Will it ever come?

The nights know me well.

I was a frequent by-passer but now I am no stranger.

A boy who grew up with sharks does not need to be taught how to swim.

Good night,

These words feel like the vast sky

Darkness, but not hollow.

Black but not bitter.

After he recites his poem he becomes flustered again from the faint applause he had received from the audience that was present, he puts the mic back to its stand and does a small bow.

"Not bad, tiger" You pat him on the back. There was more to him than what meets the eye, you just knew.

"You think so?" He says with hopeful eyes.

"Yeah!" You assure him.

The rest of the evening passes by with the both of you having a splendid time watching others unleash their passion and talent for reciting spoken word and poetry. Some were tear jerking and some were downright hilarious. So this is college. Mark thinks to himself.

In the past he had always been a loner who didn't go to many parties because of his strict and conservative parents.

He was way beyond his borders now. But he couldn't get carried away. No, this isn't a time for him to redeem himself from his early years, this was time for him to perform his duties. So he snaps out of his little daydream.

As the both of you were seated at the bench in front of the hall where he found you, he had asked you about your major.

"Fine arts." you laugh bitterly.

"What's wrong? You don't seem like you're happy with it…" He trails off, swinging his feet that was hanging off the bench.

You shake your head no, "I am. It's just that my parents don't really know I took this course. I told them I got a scholarship and they were just relieved that they didn't have to pay anymore. Otherwise they'd force me into some business course or something "more practical"" you emphasize with air quotes.

"I see. Okay so fine arts huh?" He tries to lighten the mood. "What can you say about that one over there?" Mark points to the sculpture to your left, about 20 metres away.

"They're like two beings, leaning on each other" you pause, dramatically for impact, "They support each other so one doesn't fall." you interpret.

He seems impressed, then asks "Support huh? How about you? Do you have anyone—who supports you?"

"Hm, not really, no. I like to be alone and just spend time with myself." Your eyes wander but all you could think about is how he's looking at you with such attentiveness and interest.

He chuckles, "I feel you. You know I'm an expert at being alone. Don't you just love it when you're in a room full of people but no one gives a shit about your presence?" He claps his hands together just once then purses his lips into a bitter lopsided smile. "Yep. Had a lot of those." He masks his personal statement with humor.

"Well," You say, kicking the shortly-trimmed grass on the building's lawn. "If you don't wanna be alone, you walk me to my dorm" you offer.

He looks around and takes no time to think about it, feeling that it was unsafe for you to go alone. "Sure." He smiles.

The walk to your dorm was silent but comfortable. You weren't sure if he was quite a talker or just shy. But one thing you couldn't get out of your head was how unconventionally attractive he was. You've never gotten a vibe like his before and you've been in this university for 2 years already. You wanted to get something out of him even if it takes you to be the bold one here.

"We're here," You whisper, looking at him seductively. Like you were a puppy begging to not be left alone. "Do you wanna come in? My roommate left for the weekend" you smirk.

Mark gulps. He had been resisting this kind of tension he had with you ever since he met you. But you made it so hard. "Come on," you say, putting your hand at the back of his neck while tracing mindless patterns on it with your finger.

"My brother he might be-"

"Oh you have a brother? Is he hot?" You joke.

His eyes are wide with stitched eyebrows. But eventually catches on. "Nah." and he pulls you closer to him by the waist. His eyes now staring at you deeply, so hungrily like he was that tiger you called him as earlier. Come and get it.

Without any words said, he had finally crashed his lips onto yours. And you kissed him hard. Like you wanted to have him to all yourself at that very moment. Your tongue grazes his lower lip, begging for entrance which he had granted. Your tongues meshed together at a quick pace, with the heat of your core starting to throb.

You push yourself closer to him and you start to feel his prominence and unconsciously grind on his jeans, making him grunt. You break the kiss for a quick moment, his eyes are glazed and his mouth agape, out of breath. You turn around and enter the code to your dorm and pull him inside.

For a brief moment that your bodies were detached, Mark couldn't stop wanting more. Not even thinking the slightest of the consequences of this act that will dawn upon him if it ever gets out.

You were back to slamming your body with his as you took off his jacket, making it fall to the floor. His hands snake underneath your shirt and started roaming around your body while he peppered kisses on your neck. With a swift flick of his fingers he had unclasped your bra and his hands groped your breasts, you threw your head back as he buried his face in your clothed cleavage. Like he was begging for this bothersome piece of clothing to be gone.

You grant his invisible wish and quickly lift your shirt off, while your bra falls off your arms naturally, his mouth watering at the sight. You trace his abs underneath his shirt, your core getting wetter with how toned they were based on your touch.

And you didn’t doubt the results one bit. When you lift his shirt, his torso was delicately lean, toned in all the right places that your mouth could water at the sight of it. You bite your lip and roll your eyes at the sensation of him sucking your tits, his grip on you intense but gentle.

“I don’t have condoms right now, so this is going to be all about you.” He whispers seductively, feeling your wetness through your soaked panties. You softly moan at the sensation and hungrily kiss him again, not having any moment to waste.

When he slides two fingers to massage your folds, you whimper. "Fuck," you breathe.

"God, that's hot." He says with a hitched breath. You couldn't possibly get any more turned on right now.

When he slips his digits in your cunt—you go fucking insane. You haven't felt this good in quite a while, it made you ecstatic to remember how fucking good this feeling was, you hoped that this wouldn't be the last. Mark was different.

He picks up his pace, and you try to keep your composure, but the forced arch of your back says otherwise. You grab a pillow to cover your face, scared that you would be too loud and get caught, or else this would be the last time for the both of you.

“My fucking God.” You whimper, pulling Mark’s head on your chest, holding onto him for dear life because you just entirely lost control of it all. He finishes you off like his life depended on it, licking your wetness from his fingers, savouring it, then wipes his fingers on his jeans.

“You were so good to me, yeah?” He chuckles when you are left speechless.

“What about you?” You ask, looking at his crotch that was painfully hard.

“It’s- It’s alright. You don’t have to” He says, and it makes your heart thaw like ice. You didn’t deserve him.

“But I want to.” You plead, you couldn’t possibly resist him. “Come here,” You say, rubbing your palm against his jeans.

You didn’t waste anymore time and unzipped his pants, lowering it with his boxers just enough t make his cock lightly hit his stomach. His size is definitely more than what you expected. You take his wet, glistening cock in your hands and pump it gently, smirking in satisfaction when you hear him hiss and moan softly.

“Can you keep it down for me, tiger? We might not be able to do this again,” You coo, and he obediently nods, grazing your lower lip with his tongue, asking for entrance which you gladly grant but not for long.

You smile as you lowered your head down to his throbbing member, licking the precum that had escaped the tip. Mark bites his lip, trying to keep as quiet as possible. You slowly put his dick in your mouth, testing a few times how far you could go. He bucks his hips by accident, making you gag very slightly. “I’m so sorry,” He strokes your hair away from your face. You keep going until you reach the brim, a throaty moan escapes his lips when he couldn’t take it anymore.

You bob your head up and down in a consistent pace while he holds your hair, “You��re such a good girl” He says, throwing his head back. You keep going until you feel tears slowly coming out of your eyes and tried to hollow your cheeks as much as possible, he was so close.

“You don’t have to swallow,” he says, pulling back from you. Nonsense. You were more than willing to.

“I want to.” You say, putting his cock back in your mouth.

With a few last pumps, his member twitches in your mouth and you feel his warm release and take it all in. You wipe the sides of your mouth as you finish, giving him a sweet smile.

After the both of you pass out on your bed, Mark has lost track of time and receives a text from Johnny.

"Dude where the fuck are you? Do you know what time it is?"

Mark jolts up and checks the time, 2:45am. Shit, he was screwed. He quickly gathers his clothes that had been thrown around your room and dresses himself in panic.

"I'm sorry, uh Joh- Rolan, my brother has been waiting for me at our dorm, I lost track of time and i think he'll beat my dick off," He nervously chuckles, almost forgetting to use his fake identity again. He has got to get used to it.

"Not if i did it first" You both burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll see you in class." You say, snuggling yourself in your blanket and shutting your eyes.

He leaves your dorm quietly and runs a hand through his hair before giving Johnny a call.

"Dude listen-"

"Are you fucking around Mark?" Johnny answers, clearly enraged.

Mark was scared as shit but never misses the chance to fuck around Johnny. "I might've."

"Get your ass back here, Lee"

"Ayt."

He slips his phone back to his pocket and starts walking briskly to their dorm. Damn this campus was mad creepy that it actually brought chills to his body. He wondered why he felt so cold then realized he left his jacket at your place. It was too late for him to get it back so he settled by running to warm his body up.

Finally, he was back at the dorm. He hesitates to turn the doorknob because he knows he will be dead meat or nagged to death by Johnny. Or not.

"Where you been huh?" Johnny examines him, standing up from his bed. He sniffs Mark and the latter flinches. "You smell like sex!" He slaps his shoulder.

"You crazy? Some expert or something" Mark brushes him off. Wincing at the sting Johnny's palm gave to the skin of his shoulder.

"I should know, Mark." His mood was lighter now. "But who did you fu- i mean have sex with? we just got here wildcat"

"A girl I met in class like uh… awhile ago" The younger bites his lip trying to keep a smile from escaping his lips. He shouldn't be feeling this giddy over a rule that he broke for you.

Johnny could not believe what he was hearing right now, "Dang. Cheeky boy." He laughs, actually feeling happy for Mark. He can have a little fun, Johnny had his back when it came to these things.

The elder changes the topic and lets this slide. Johnny talks about the leads he gathered from hanging out with the football team. Which were still very much confusing since this substance is all over the campus. Meanwhile, Mark didn't have much besides that number he gave Johnny. Considering he was with the "decent" crowd of people today.

---

The two head to their quarters to report to their chief the next day, trying to ask for help on how they could improve this investigation.

The chief dumps a folder on the table and says, "This is what the deputy gave us recently. Take a look." He opens the folder into a specific case file to discuss with the two.

"Who's this?" Mark points at the picture of a girl, who seemed like they were around the same age as the people at University.

"Lee Minjung." the chief rubs his hands together. "Took some NCT and got locked out of her dorm, so she ended up falling off the roof and dying." The two are shocked by this revelation, it was more serious than they thought.

The chief flips a page, "Here's a picture of her buying the drug." The photograph had two people in it, one that had a visible face which was Minjung, and one guy who's back was facing the camera. He wore a hat so they couldn't really tell who it was. But one thing they could point out is the reflection on the window of the car beside them.

"Dude, look at this," Mark points out his observation to Johnny. "He has a tattoo, we could start with this."

"Bingo. There's your lead." The chief closes the folder and puts it back in his file. "The next time you get back here your asses better be presenting me some actual progress. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

----

Johnny and Mark head to the resident tattoo artist that was near the university, apparently they do most of the tattoos of the students there.

"Excuse me," They knocked on the table of the artist who was currently at the back of the shop.

The tattoo artist arrives out front and asks how they could help the two.

"We're looking for this tattoo, is it familiar to you?" Johnny asks while showing the artists the photograph.

The artist tries to think hard, but gives a hasty answer. "I'm not sure, there's too many of them who got that."

Mark pushes the subject, "Them? Do you think it's some kind of group tattoo?"

"I guess so. They were boys, all of them. Very masculine, had the body of an athlete if I were to put it at that." The artist states.

Mark and Johnny look at each other as if there were light bulbs above their heads. "Thank you!" Mark says and they run off the shop.

The possibility of this being in the football team was huge. They were athletes, and under a lot of pressure. They had reasons to use this drug but it wasn't an excuse for them not to eliminate this. They had to get to the bottom of this before it ends up like Minjung's case again.

---

Johnny was at football practice while Mark stood by the bleachers, watching the team and trying to look out as usual until Johnny calls him over to come down for a bit.

"Jaehyun, this is Kalen, my brother." He introduces him. With his assigned name.

Jaehyun chortles in disbelief when he sees Mark. "You have a brother?" He asks and Johnny nods.

"Sup," Mark tries to give him a bro hug, but Jaehyun shakes his hand instead.

Jaehyun pays no mind to Mark's presence and diverts his attention back to Johnny and proceeds to talk about their game plan.

When practice ends he tells Johnny that the football team plans to host a party tonight. It would be the perfect opportunity for them to keep an eye on everyone.

"Can I come?" Mark asks.

Jaehyun eyes him from the side, "Yeah uh sure" and only bids goodbye to Johnny. "See ya bro."

Mark could already feel that he didn't belong in this crowd, but he and Johnny had to stick together and investigate.

The night of the party came and the two brothers were stoked. "Our first frat party." Mark thought.

"Your first frat party." Johnny spat playfully, trying to meticulously style and wax his hair.

Mark scoffs, still trying to figure out what shirt to wear but at the end, he settles with a navy blue Ralph Lauren shirt. He was too lazy to fix his hair and wears a cap instead.

Johnny tosses Mark something that he thinks the younger might need later on.

"Are you for real? A condom?" A baffled Mark says in disbelief, but sliding it in his pocket anyway.

"You'll never know wildcat. You'll never know." He gives him a mischievous wink.

This wasn't just any party to them, this was an operation. Though they chose to leave for the party unarmed, they were thankfully trained well for hand to hand combat, just in case things went extremely wrong. But that was besides the point, they couldn't destroy their chances of blending in.

When the tandem arrives at the party, the elder was the only one to be greeted enthusiastically, Mark shakes it off simply because being friends with these jocks were the last thing on his list. It was Johnny's call if it didn't work for him, they had their roles.

"Go around for a bit, I'll take care of him." Johnny whispers to Mark with a drink already in his hand.

Mark shrugs his shoulders and explores the frat house, lit with red and blue, music blaring through speakers and the muffled conversations from the people that filled it.

Nothing seemed too off the bat here, it was everything you would expect a frat party to be. There hasn't been a trace of NCT anywhere, or maybe it was because they were being taken too discreetly.

"Want some?" a random guy nudges him, discreetly handing a packet of the substance. He takes it and plays it cool.

"Yo, sick. Thanks man." He pats him on the back.

“Yo it’s not free.” The guy laughs then it disappears. “20 bucks.”

Mark's smile fades, embarrassed. Thank god he brought his wallet. “Here. Thanks.”

"Don't sweat it." and he gives him a small salute.

Mark quickly slides it in his pocket, to keep as evidence later.

"Bad boy." You snake your hands around his shoulders. "Want some?" You offer your red punch with vodka.

His eyes widen, but eases under your touch. Finally, someone who's familiar. Overly familiar. "Hey, y/n" he shakes his head no. "I don't feel like drinking tonight" he makes up an excuse.

"So are you…"

"Am i?"

"Are you going to take that?" You say, pointing at the pocket where he hid it.

Uncertain, he shakes his head no. "But should I? Have you ever had one of these?"

"Oh god no." You say in disgust. "I have seen people's reactions to it though. It's borderline batshit crazy, those things." You explain. Hoping that he wouldn't ever try taking those. You knew about the whole Minjung incident. "One of the girls who lived next door died because of it."

Your remark sparks an interest in him. "Minjung?" He questions. This could be a big help to their operation. But it wasn't a good time to interrogate you.

You raise your brows, "How'd you know her name?"

He fakes a cough and tries to quickly think of a reason. "Mr- Mr. Benett told us. He said that recently a student passed away but never said it was because of the drug…"

You crease up, "That old man is fucking clueless." You cross your arms. "But I'm just looking out for you okay? There's safer ways to have fun."

"Right " He pursues a smile.

Too much fun wasn't part of the plan tonight but you made it difficult for him to do his job. Effortlessly.

You fake a pout. "C'mon tiger, live a little! It's not going to be that bad." You try to convince him, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to keep your drink from spilling, his arms naturally overlapping and resting just right above your ass.

To hell with this. He's been dreaming of this his entire life. After being in such a conservative family and all, he deserved to try new things out. He was old enough. He thinks to himself, while catching a glimpse of Johnny chugging down a keg. "You're right." he smirks, and you offer your drink for him to taste.

Mark's face scrunches a little from the alcohol, but it felt nice. Good enough for him to grab you by the arm and head to get one himself.

He scans the counter full of different drinks with a variety of colored juices. He chooses the blue lemonade with vodka which you gladly made, handing him the red plastic cup after. "Cheers" you say, delighted with the smile he gave you.

It wasn't long enough until the both of you were back to dancing again, not giving a care like everyone else. He could kiss you right now. And he did, he couldn't miss the opportunity to make your tongues turn purple.

----

Johnny has done everything with all his might to get along with these jocks, kids these days do party harder huh? He doesn't remember having this kind of intolerance to alcohol before, he had to get it out of his system before he forgets what he's really here for.

"Nah this dude's a goner!" Yuta enthusiastically points at Johnny, who now had both of his hands on his knees.

"Hold on, I gotta have some air outside" he raises his arms in defeat, words slurring out of his mouth and vision so blurred he could barely tell where he's going. Finally after much stumbling and ending up in filthy corners, he managed to find a bathroom. Not a usable one though.

"Oh god- sorry" He says as he sees two people fucking each other's guts out on on the sink. "Nevermind" he immediately shuts the door and leaves them alone. It didn't take long for him to just head outside and vomit on the lawn of the frat house. Oh yes, great fertilizer.

Johnny regains a very small amount of composure and he felt someone tap and rub his back. "You okay?" Jaehyun chuckles, with a drunk Yuta tagging along.

Johnny takes a deep breath and tries to stand straight with all his might, trying to act like everything was under control. "Shits wild here" He chaffs, but his brows furrow when he sees a familiar pattern on Yuta's skin. "What's that you got there?" Johnny tries to reach for the latter's arm carefully.

Yuta excitedly raises his sleeve, revealing a tattoo. "Oh this? It's a tattoo man. Gotta get inked at some point!" Yuta says, proudly. "Do you want one? I know a place!"

Jaehyun sighs. He was hyperactive again. "Yuta-"

"What? C'mon look I got this as soon as I got out of my parent's house. Those folks made me feel like I was in jail!" The drunk boy overshares. Johnny pays attention because there was a possibility that these thoughts were sober.

Johnny was quickly disappointed, but not surprised. "Yeah? That's cool. I'll pass. Kinda scared of needles..." He trails off.

"Pfft. Pussy." Yuta spat, Johnny was ready to give him a piece of his knuckles.

Jaehyun blocks Johnny with his arm, "Cut him some slack man, I've known this guy since high school. Let him have his fun. He won't even remember this."

The three head back inside to enjoy the rest of the party when the duo completely forget what they were initially here for. Johnny had spent the rest of the night enjoying himself, so did Mark.

You and Mark decided to play along with the drinking games these people planned, with the faces that you will surely forget by tomorrow.

You've already had a couple to drink, so it became harder for you to aim in beer pong. Luckily, Mark was right behind you, with a steady grip on your hips and one arm helping you aim for the ball.

You close one eye trying to focus as he helped you aim for the cup. "She shoots, she scores!" he shouts playfully and there goes another drink for you.

"You still alright? We can stop if you want," He whispers, lips tingling on your collarbone, sending chills to your spine.

You turn to face him, a gentle hand on his lean chest. "I want you.". You whisper, dragging a painfully slow finger to his lips. You were so knit together that you could feel the growing tent in his pants on your throbbing core. He was irresistible.

He gulps. Here comes nothing. Johnny sure knows his shit huh?

Mark quickly leads you upstairs, looking for a vacant room to settle in. He turned the knobs one by one but they were all locked, your last resort was a surprisingly available restroom.

"Will this do for you?" Mark hesitates, because he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.

Your tipsy self playfully pinches his cheek, "You do it for me, tiger." And it was enough to drive him to the edge.

As soon as the both of you enter the bathroom, your lips connect once again, sloppily kissing each other like you were out of your minds. Like you wanted to swallow and consume this man whole.

"I want you to see for yourself how crazy you make me." You say through the slapdash kisses.

He puts a hand under your dress, feeling your drenched cunt. "You're so fucking wet. Is this all for me?" He says out of breath, mouth almost watering with the thought of your pussy in his mouth.

"All yours baby." You bite his lower lip and stick out your tongue for him to suck.

He raises your dress just below your ribcage and slides down your black lace lingerie as it fell to your ankles, "Just so you know, I'm keeping this." Mark smirks as he quickly puts it in his pocket.

"It's meant to be yours," You purr, setting your back flat on the cold tiled wall, throwing your head back at the sensation of Mark leaving wet kisses on your thighs.

He kneels and places your legs over his shoulders, lifting your feet off the ground. He was sturdy as a rock as his two arms held your thighs for support while you removed his cap for you to wear over your head and your fingers to be locked in his hair.

"Fuck." You hiss as his tongue lapped on your folds, slurping on your wetness like he worshiped you. He sucked repeatedly on your clit making your legs tremble, so good that you might fall over but his reflexes were out of his world and he knew where exactly to support you.

Your eyes painfully roll to the back of your head from the sensation he was giving you, "God, Kalen don't fucking stop-" you moan and you swear this man had some spell casted on his mouth by how magical it worked.

You grind your hips involuntarily as his mouth followed it, like this could not get any better than it already was. But you could only take so much. "Kalen I'm gonna cum, fuck"

"It's not over until it's over baby," he sets you down and removes his mouth from your pussy, you could barely stand with your legs feeling like absolute gelatin.

Mark gets a condom out of his pocket and quickly unbuckles his belt, making his jeans fall to the ground and expose his throbbing cock, boxers wet with precum.

"You think you can last longer for me baby girl?"

You could only nod your head eagerly because you were growing extremely impatient.

He wraps your legs around his waist in a swift move. "Good girl" He whispers, and you were more than ready to take him. Again and again.

He inserts himself inside you, stretching your walls and you whimper, wrapping your arms around his head to keep his face close to the valley of your breasts.

"That's right, open up for me, pretty girl." He pleads as he continues to thrust in a steady pace. Breath hitched as he brought his face up to you, slurping your tongue once more like it was a popsicle that he couldn't get enough of. "Taking me so well like always huh?" he chuckles and picks up his pace, throaty moans escaping his mouth.

Thank fuck the music in this house was loud enough to blow off people's eardrums, making your moans almost inaudible outside, but loud enough for Marks pleasure. For his ears only.

“Fuck I’m almost-” Mark huffs, “there.” he breathes. When his pace becomes sloppy and finally comes, you hold onto him, your legs numb that you could barely stand on your own. Conscious with the fact that Mark will get to see how fucked out you look, but he absolutely loved it.

-----

"What'd I tell ya? That condom didn't go to waste." Johnny snickers while laying in bed, tossing his football.

Head in the clouds with the thought of you, Mark could only smile to himself but quickly changes the subject before they both lose all purpose.

"Find anything out yet?" Mark asks mindlessly, because all he could think about was you.

"Nope." Johnny says, popping the p. He lied.

And something clicks with Mark. That packet of NCT he managed to keep in his pocket. He rushes over to his hamper and flips the pockets of his pants.

"Someone handed it to me yesterday, I kept it for evidence to bring at the headquarters." He hands the packet to Johnny.

The elder observes it, trying to push the thought of Yuta possibly being a dealer to the very back of his head right now. Give it time. Mark was just starting to enjoy being with you, Johnny has been enjoying being one of the new aces in the football team, it wouldn't hurt to hold it out for a little while.

"Also," Mark adds, "Y/n knows about Minjung. Said she lived across the hall."

"And?" Johnny anticipates.

"That's all I know for now. It's still a big step though." Mark concludes.

----

Johnny spends his free time hanging with Jaehyun and the rest of the boys. If not in practice, they hit the gym to always be in tip-top shape.

Yuta swings a heavy arm over Johnny's shoulders, "Well isn't it our quitter!"

Johnny shoots Jaehyun a look, "You told me he wouldn't remember."

Jaehyun could only chuckle, "Well he did."

Yuta was loud as a goose, he seemed to have so much more energy than the other members of the team that Johnny became suspicious of where it came from.

He recalls the time when the chief described the effects of the NCT substance, and one of them was being focused and hyperactive.

Yuta, besides being silly, was on top of his own game. After joking around he was a hundred percent focused on the gym, his reps were consistent, his routines were clean. Jaehyun tells Johnny that Yuta was also one of the greatest instruments of the football team. Though not gifted with the brightest mind, he worked hard to stay in this university to prove his parents wrong—and to avoid business school.

He was a potential heir to a known electronics company in Japan, but he insisted that he pursue being part of the varsity team to keep his scholarship in sports science. Which until now was an endless debate between him and his parents.

Jaehyun had invited Johnny to stay over at the frat house to hang out, and he did.

It was different to see it in daylight, with no people partying, no vomit and crushed chips on the floor, it looked well taken care of.

"You guys clean this up yourselves after every party?" Johnny asks, impressed.

"Yep," Jaehyun proudly says.

"You gotta look out for the shit they leave behind here. It's amusing." Yuta retorts.

Johnny raises a brow, "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Without wit, Yuta replies, "Drugs"

Johnny, absolutely being taken back by his bold remark was immediately clutched by Jaehyun, "He doesn't mean it."

His suspicion grew so much that he couldn't help but finally bring up the subject. "Like what? Like NCT?" he enunciates.

Jaehyun, quite astounded by Johnny's knowledge with the substance replies, "Hm maybe. You know about that?"

And he was in the trance. "Heard of it yeah, can you hook me up with some?

"Oh sure it’s right-" Yuta reaches for his pocket, "here." and sticks his middle finger out playfully. Johnny swats it away.

"Woah there-" Jaehyun almost bust a gut while laughing. "You're definitely new to this. We don't have any." He tells Johnny. "Don't be such a narc."

Way too defensively, Johnny retorts, "I'm not!"

"That's what they all say." Yuta shrugs with a chuckle.

He spends the rest of the afternoon with them and surprisingly hasn't dealt with unusual rituals and behavior. They acted their age, playing games on a PS5, drinking soda until their bladders exploded, filling themselves with junk food and spray cheese. He could be wrong about them after all.

----

Days passed and not a single thing has led them closer to their target person, it was harder than they thought even when everything felt like it was right in front of them.

"Student-Parent day is coming soon, are you going?" You ask Mark as you take a sip of your coffee.

You took him to your favorite coffee shop for the first time, it's a nice and quiet place for you to study and relax.

"They have those?" Mark hesitates because then he'd have to tell his parents that he's undercover and they'd forget and blow it for him. "I guess so."

"Good. Because I'd like you to meet my parents." You smile. Though you didn't know where you stood with Mark, the past few weeks with him had been a breath of fresh air. He was kind, funny and supportive. He was simple yet his ways of showing his thoughts were sophisticated, never had you once thought that you would get along so well with a person in such a short time. You weren't the one to ask for labels though. You simply liked to enjoy whatever you had at the moment. In your experience, putting labels on things just always gave a reason for it to vanish.

"What why?" He says, a little too surprised.

"Look Kalen, don't break a sweat with this. I'm just going to introduce you. They won't mind." You assure him.

He simply leaves the topic behind and ponders on how he could make this work. He was scared because you had no idea that this was all temporary, and he's terrified by the fact that he wishes it wasn't. He was finding all the possible reasons and excuses to retract himself from this relationship he has with you, but all you ever gave him was a reason to stay. It broke his heart knowing that one day, he'll have to disappoint you with the truth.

"Something wrong?"

He snaps out of it. "Nothing." and forces a smile.

-----

"We aren't making any progress man," Mark runs a hand through his hair and sighs. His back falls heavily on his bed.

Johnny anxiously bites his lap, eyes fixated on the floor. "Yuta has a tattoo…"

"What?" the younger jolts up.

Johnny backs up defensively, "But it wasn't the one we saw! You know how the tattoo artist said he's done a couple of those."

"Are you shitting me right now? We've been trying to find it for weeks! Why didn't you tell me?" His voice raises, and a vein on his forehead couldn't help but emerge.

"I don't think it's him man, I told you it’s not the same tattoo" Johnny defends.

Mark lets out a pungent laugh, poking his tongue on the inside of his cheek, his jaw stiffens. "Right. I knew it. " He says in disbelief. "Everything's right in front of you already! Too scared to bust your new besties now?"

"They aren't my new besties stop making up bullshit." The elder stubbornly defends.

"No you stop because I'm actually trying here!"

"Oh you are? Explain why you're getting so serious with that girl of yours. Wait until she finds out that she's just part of the plan." He jumps on Mark's throat and walks out of the room.

The thing is, you weren't even part of the plan. Not at all.

-----

"You better have good shit for me today." The chief clearly was not being in his best mood today.

Mark scoffs, he and Johnny had not settled their differences since the fight from two days ago, they were doing their own investigations without communicating. Which was a big no.

"Ask the big guy here, I'm sure he has something." Tongue in his cheek, Mark glares.

The chief slams a big hand on the table and shouts, "Stop acting like fucking children!"

Johnny stiffened up on his seat, and gulped before he spoke. "I think we need to initiate a drug test on one of the students, chief. I have my eye on this one person. We could pretend to say that the thing is randomized and mandatory. If the intel can look up information about his parents, we could send a pretend automated message about their child being randomly selected for a drug test."

The chief seems to be taking Johnny's point well, "And who is this you suspect?"

"Nakamoto Yuta."

Mark looks at Johnny with wide eyes, he thought Johnny wouldn't be turning him in.

"I see. I'll get the department to execute this idea of yours and we'll let you know right away. Dismissed."

Mark catches up to Johnny who had been walking ahead of him and tries to reach for the elder's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Let go of me," Johnny knocks Mark's hand off his shoulder. "Are you happy now?"��

Dumbfounded, Mark couldn't seem to understand where Johnny's irritation was coming from. "Look man, I'm sorry you had to turn one of your friends in but you know it's our job."

"I know okay? I don't need you telling me what to do because so far, I know pretty damn well that I'm not meddling in your fucking business."

Mark pushes a hard hand on Johnny, making him stumble a little. "My relationship has nothing to do with this. Are you jealous? Because if you are, I know pretty damn well you can score a lot of chicks here. I don't see the problem."

Johnny tries to speak but was unable to because Mark had already stormed off elsewhere.

----

"Shit. My parents are coming to fetch me today." Yuta runs a veiny hand through his ginger hair; another reason for his parents to pull him out of university. But here's the first:

Jaehyun, disinterested even if he knew it was serious whenever Yuta's parents butt in and ask why.

"They wanna do a drug test on me."

Jaehyun chortles, "What? You? What made them think that? Besides you acting like a crackhead?"

"They got this stupid email from the dean that I was amongst the randomly chosen individuals to get tested." He pops a sour kid patch in his mouth, "They're never letting this go." He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "I have never even tried NCT." he rolls his eyes.

Yuta, though by the looks of him, gave an impression of a boy who would try everything in front of him, but he's a wuss with a good conscience. Too good.

"Well, you are innocent after all, right?" Jaehyun shrugs. "There's nothing to worry about. Um, besides your dyed hair, your tattoo, that lip piercing." He eyes him up and down. "No biggie, just probably uh—two weeks worth of grounding. And no allowance."

"Fuck you man." the ginger-haired boy glared.

------

Johnny walks around the campus, alone. It sucked to not be on good terms with Mark, what ever happened to bros before hoes? It just wasn't the same doing things without him. Johnny had given Mark his personal space for the both of you, but at times like this—it was the hardest to stay out of it.

As he passes by the back of the Fine Arts building, he sees two familiar faces on the exposed staircase.

He squints his eyes and tries to focus on who those people might be, the mop of ash purple hair too familiar. But one thing that utterly shocked him was the sight of someone he expected the least.

It was you and Jaehyun, standing way too close to each other for anyone's liking.

Johnny takes a deep breath and sucks in his cheeks. He didn't know what this meant, and he wished he wouldn't have to be the one to give it any interpretation that would disappoint him and especially Mark.

He walks away from the scene before you get a chance to see him.

"Jaehyun, you don't have to stand this close to me," You backed up, hips hitting the ledge lightly.

He looks to the side, then back at you. "Sorry," he cockily says, backing up with both of his hands raised. "Can't help it. My best friend's too fine. And someone was looking." he mumbles.

"What?"

"Nothing, he's gone"

"You know I'm with Kalen right now Jaehyun." You say with worry, it could've been anyone. "Quit. Don't ruin this for me."

He manages to let a disgruntled chuckle, "And yet you still can't put a label on it."

And with that, he was off.

The entire time Johnny was battling with himself if she should tell Mark about what he saw or not. Them being in a misunderstanding right now doesn't change the fact that he was still his best friend.

After the excruciatingly slow walk to the dorm, he had hoped that Mark wouldn't be around, so he wouldn't have to face him with the information he had right away. He couldn't even form the words for it. The. again, when did anything ever go his way, right?

Johnny enters the room and there was Mark, munching on some chips while viewing something on his laptop. Something probably for one of his classes. Mark didn't have to take this so seriously (by this he meant his classes) but he did, because the Mark we all know just loved to learn. Good for him.

He ignores Johnny's presence; though he was very much aware of it. The elder plops down his bed and grabs his football to toss around. It was so awkward; not greeting each other with their usual weirdness and excitement. It felt like there was this gaping hole between them that both of them were afraid to cross, and no one had the initiative to take a risk—for now.

"Find anything?" Johnny asks Mark, eyes on the ceiling.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Do you have anything?"

Well, he did. But not about their task. Instead, he says "Nope." but he couldn’t help but ask. “How are you and y/n?”

“Good.” Mark plainly answers.

“Good.”

And left it at that.

-----

You were going to let your parents meet Mark today, and his would meet yours. You were new to this, there was not a single man you had introduced to your parents, aside from Jaehyun. But that was a different story, because Jaehyun was a childhood friend.

So Mark was the first… whatever this was called. You couldn’t get yourself to call him that, you didn’t deserve to. For you labels were earned, not just given. But this will do for now.

You see him from a distance with his parents, he resembled his father’s face structure and his mother’s eyes. His smile was uniquely his own. You wave a hand in the air and he catches the sight of it, smiling even wider.

“You’re in college again honey?” Mark’s mom asks, clueless.

“Mom, I'm undercover please don’t bring that up anywhere. Please keep quiet for me.” He whispers sternly.

His mom zips her mouth figuratively, his dad got the idea of the whole thing, so they acted according to the assignment.

As he got closer to where you were, his legs grew weak. But he couldn’t falter, he had to put on a strong face. But at that moment, Mark wanted to be buried alive. He wanted to turn his back and run away.

“Mom, dad, this is Kalen.” You present him to them with a grin.

“H-hello.” Mark lets out, his chest clenching.

“Kalen. You sure I haven’t seen you before?” Your father says, gripping Mark’s hand firm, he could almost squeeze the guts out of it. Your father was his deputy chief.

Mark, crushed under the man’s grip, “N-no sir.” he manages to blurt out.

You sense the tension and tell your dad, “Dad, that’s enough.”

Your dad let go, with a smug and bitter look on his face. Your mom, who- with absolutely no idea what Mark has to do with your father, greets him politely.

You greet Mark's parents with glee, and proceed to walk with him, keeping a fair distance from both your parents. "Sorry about my dad, he's just stressed about his job. He's a deputy chief, rustling with knuckleheads all the time." You explain.

Sure he's been through a lot. Mark thought. "Yea yea, I totally get it. It's fine." he nods. Knuckleheads. He laughs to himself.

The rest of the parents’ day event was a total drag, every time Mark got into eye contact with their chief, it had seemed like the man wanted to rip his head away from his body, or maybe skin him alive. Mark had no idea, because if he did he wouldn’t have risked going this far with you. What is left to do now? How can he ever face his boss knowing that he broke the first rule given to them right in his face? And with his own daughter? He should start digging his own grave at this point.

But the chief didn't lay a finger on him, not now when his daughter was at stake.

----

Mark has been itching to tell Johnny about what had happened. He was willing to set aside their differences because he needed his best friend, now.

"Johnny-" Mark breathes, not making eye contact with the elder who was on his phone, this room had been dead silent for days.

Johnny's head perks up, it was nice hearing him call his name again. "Yeah?"

"I kinda messed up… big time." Mark scratches the back of his head, shameful.

Johnny sits up, and listens to the younger more attentively. "What do you mean?"

"Y/n.." he trails off, "Y/n is the chief's daughter." And catches his face on his hands.

"Fuck…" Johnny didn't know what to say. "How'd you know?"

"The student-parent weekend thing. God, I swear dude he was going to skin me alive if he could. But shit, I didn't know!" Mark exclaims, hands all over the place. "If I did then I wouldn't have gone through with this. She has never told me about her parents until that day. I don't know what to do."

He seemed so helpless, he didn't want to break to you like this, it was too messy. But damn if he didn't want to keep being with you. It couldn't end like this, not yet.

"I- I don't know what to say man… God I'm sorry this sucks ass. You know I always let you do what makes you happy right? But what if," Johnny stops, debating if he should go on with what he planned to say.

"What if?" Mark anticipates.

"What if she isn't who you thought she was?"

"Great. I'm so fucking stupid for thinking you would be with me on this one." Mark slams his hands on his lap and stands, slamming the door on the way out.

"Mark-" Johnny reaches for the door but misses a beat, it was too late. He let his best friend slip away from him again.

And as soon as Mark left their room, he was on his way to meet up with you, hoping you would be free. He hadn't had much time with you after the following days of the event because you had always excused yourself with how busy you are with your submissions and requirements, or that's what you would like to tell him.

Your phone rings in your pocket as you excuse yourself from the people you were with at the moment, when you check to see who it was, you find the quietest place possible.

"Kalen," You spoke, "What's up?"

"Are you free? I was hoping I'd finally catch you."

You sigh, you missed spending time with him. "I am," you say in advance before you bail out of this place you were in. "See you at the cafe in 10?"

You hear him chuckle over the line, and you just knew he was smiling when he said "Great, I'll see you."

"See you, Kal." You smile and tuck your phone back in your pocket.

"Who was that?" Jaehyun asks when he bumps into you in the hallway of the frat house. "Oh you've got that sickening smile right now. It must've been Kalen" He rolls his eyes.

"Whatever Jae," You brush past him. "I'm heading out."

"But we're not done!"

You didn't respond and left, shutting the door behind you.

The cafe was a short walk from your university, but you just happened to bump into Mark on the way, now you don't have to walk alone.

He smoothly slips his hand in yours, holding it gently and reading your expression. You look to the side with a wide grin on your face, unable to help the fact that you were blushing like crazy.

"Nice hoodie," he comments. The garment looked a little too familiar to him, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. “You never gave back my jacket..”

You mentally facepalm, forgetting the fact that you were wearing Jaehyun's hoodie. You pray that Mark wouldn't see this on him anytime soon, you wouldn't want him to get a bad idea.

"Oh right that, I’ll get it dry cleaned and I’ll give it back" you utter. "Something bothering you?" You ask, trying to read his sulky expression.

He shakes his head, "No no, I want you to keep it. And I just missed you." He forms a small smile, making your heart melt. You were so easily captivated by his presence that it scared you. He always left you feeling unhinged—in a good way.

"I missed you too, tiger." You grip his hand a little tighter.

When he licks his lips, only by then you realize how much you missed kissing him. Right then and there, you just wanted another taste. This was exactly why you were trying to keep yourself busy and away from him for a bit; you had to convince yourself that you couldn’t be attached to him because you could never take care of the things you keep.

He opens the door for you like always and the chimes in the cafe ring in a sweet melody, a sound that always reminds you of your moments with him. The both of you always shared comfortable memories in this cafe, from small coffee dates to working on papers until it closed. You couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.

When you settle down he automatically takes your usual orders right away. You could not take your eyes off him, he was such a dream.

He sets the tray down with your drinks, and a pastry that you shared a love-hate relationship with. Cheesecake.

You chuckle at the thought of recalling all the times that you convinced Mark that cheesecake slices weren’t supposed to be as huge as they are and that there are definitely better one’s in other places, but Mark’s favorite was Starbucks’. Maybe that’s why you have learned to love it somehow, because you get to enjoy it with him.

"I thought you didn't like this? You almost finished the whole thing… I literally bought this for myself." He says sarcastically, very much amused at how you barely even noticed that you were close to finishing the entire thing.

"Oh shit.. sorry" You show him a pout and feed the last piece to him. "Here." You smile cutely.

He rolls his eyes and bites it off your fork, you both bid goodbye to the cheesecake.

Mark’s phone rings in his pocket and when he checks to see, it was Johnny. He lets out a sigh and puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that?” You ask.

“Nah”

But Johnny was persistent, he did see this coming. He knew that Mark would ignore him at first so he decided to send him a message. This was about their job.

��Mark, I know you hate me right now but we have to go to the office. Yuta’s tests came back.” Johnny sends.

Mark takes a peek at his message, immediately standing up.

“Where are you going?” You say, surprised.

“I’m sorry I gotta go- meet my brother. He needs me for something.” He hesitantly leans forward, wanting to kiss you on the lips but kisses your forehead instead. “Text me when you get home okay?.” And with that, he was off.

Mark rings Johnny and the elder quickly answers the call, Mark informs him that he would be heading to the office by himself since he was already closer to the location.

But he suddenly remembers about his conflict with the chief. So he waited for Johnny to arrive outside.

Lowering his pride he says, “I’m scared.”

Johnny looks at him with empathy and says, “We can’t change what happened Mark. Just take it all in for now and we’ll figure out what to do about it later.” He pats the younger’s back and gives his shoulders an assuring squeeze before heading inside.

Mark could not look at his boss, the feeling of wanting to be eaten alive was back again, why did he have to be your father?

When Mark finally gets the courage to face him, the chief yells, “The fuck are you looking at?” making Mark flinch and shrink into his seat.

Johnny felt the need to protect his friend and at the same time, to get what they were really here for. “Um, Sir can you save the ass beating for next time? We really need to look into Yuta’s results now.” He scratches the back of his neck.

The chief grunts angrily, getting the file from his drawer. “Negative.” He says.

Mark and Johnny give each other a look and take the folder that had the results, trying to analyze how it could possibly be negative.

“Dammit.” Johnny whispers to himself, they had to move quickly before everything slips away from them. He takes note of Yuta’s contact number in the file to use for later. He closes the folder and places it back on the desk. “We’ll take care of this chief.”

“You better. And you,” He presses a hard finger on Mark’s chest, “Stop fucking around with my daughter. I’ll cut your dick off.”

Mark purses his lips before speaking, “She’s-” he gulps, “She’s really great sir. I’m not playing around with her. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“You already are.”

-----

The following day, Yuta receives a text from an unknown number, asking him to meet in an unusual location on campus. He was very skeptical at first but believed that it was probably harmless.

“Yah, Rolan! Sup.” He offers his fist to bump. “I was just waiting for someone here too. Some random number texted me and I was like "you know, fuck it"” he shrugs.

Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle. Was innocence even the word to describe this? "And you believed them?" Johnny shakes his head.

“Yeah! Look here’s the number” he flashes his phone screen to Johnny, “I wonder where they are. Let me give them a call.” he mindlessly puts the phone next to his ear. Yuta hears a muffled cellphone ringtone and looks around for it. “Yo, your phone’s ringing you should get that.” Yuta says to Johnny, still having absolutely no idea.

“It was us who texted you, dummy.” Mark retorts, appearing from the shadows, now both of them are cornering Yuta.

“Yo,-” Yuta laughs, still not getting the point of this all. “What’s your name again?”

Mark rolls his eyes, “Kalen.”

“Right! Kalen wassup? You’re his brother right?” Yuta points to Johnny with his thumb up.

Johnny pops a tongue in his cheeks, and cocks his brow. “Alright, fun’s over.” It was a shame he had to do this too early, but it had to stop. He locks Yuta’s throat with his arm, pushing him onto the solid brick wall.

Yuta tries to toughen up and tries to push Johnny’s arm off, but due to their size difference, Johnny definitely kept him still.

“What do you know about him” Johnny asks sternly.

“A-about who?” Yuta coughs.

“Jaehyun. What does he do?” Mark follows.

“Besides being the most handsome man I know, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mark shakes his head, “Well,” and gets a gun out of the pocket of his hoodie. “Will this make you talk?”

Yuta looks at him with wide eyes, he was now scared shitless. “Why- how- who are you guys!” He exclaims.

“The police mother fucker.” Johnny says.

But despite everything, Yuta’s tactless mouth was definitely not his best asset. “I knew it. you looked too old to be a freshman.” He looks over at Johnny. “And you, I didn’t expect you to be a cop but you did give Narc vibes in that philosophy class.”

Mark and Johnny give each other a look, they could not be sidetracked.

“Are you done?” Johnny tells Yuta, and he simply nods. “So are you going to talk?”

“I’m telling you I don’t know! He never trusts me with his business, he says I have a big mouth.”

Mark snickers, “I can tell.”

Yuta scoffs, and follows, “He’s been out often recently, but he never tells me where he’s going. So I don’t know what I can do for you.”

“Listen here buddy,” Johnny warns. “If this gets to your parents that you’re involved with someone who supplies and distributes drugs, you’re going to get your entire family deported. Do you want that?”

Yuta gulps, “No.” then helplessly says, “I don’t know how to earn his trust with these kinds of things. He’s known me since forever but-”

“No buts.” Mark interrupts. “Use that head of yours or your ass is going back to Japan.”

-------

Yuta had been on edge ever since that encounter with Mark and Johnny, now this entire thing would be up to him if he cooperated or not. Yuta’s heart had been lost a couple times, but it was definitely looking to be in the right place. So he’s trying his best to help out, even if it meant that he would have to turn in his best friend.

When he gets the time to be alone with his thoughts he looks back at all the times that Jaehyun had made him feel like he wasn’t enough to be his friend. Not giving him a good position in football, walking out on him whenever he wanted to, keeping secrets from him. Maybe he was too busy trying so hard to be validated by Jaehyun that he never really got to realize that he lost himself in the process. Letting himself be trampled all over by everyone; this was his time to do something not just for himself, but for everyone else.

On the night when Jaehyun could not escape from Yuta’s presence any longer, he thought that it would be harmless to let his friend tag along for once. It’s not like he had other friends to be with, right? Right. Jaehyun could believe that if he wanted to.

“I’m a bit sore today, you think you can drive me?” Jaehyun asks Yuta as they were walking in the parking lot after practice.

To be fair, Yuta was sore too. But of course they wouldn’t care. “Alright, where to?” He still manages to say.

“I’ll tell you along the way.”

Yuta simply shrugs and Jaehyun tosses him his car keys, placing their gym bags at the trunk of his car. Jaehyun had given him directions while driving and it was somewhere he had never been and seen before. “Are you sure it’s here?” He says, trying to drive into a dark abandoned building with only the car’s headlights being the source of light.

“Yeah yeah, wait for me here.” Jaehyun opens the door of the car and slips away from it. “Don’t worry, this place is safe.” He tells Yuta and shuts the door close.

Yuta immediately whips out his phone, thinking that this might be his biggest clue and texts Johnny.

I don’t know where I am, but I’m gonna send you my pinned location based on what my gps says alright? I think this was where Jaehyun had been going.

Johnny immediately tells Mark about this and they immediately take their car to go to where Yuta had told them.

Rolan: Yuta, it’s not safe for you to stay there. Can you drive away and head back here? It would be better if we keep you alive.

I guess I could, Jaehyun’s pretty far out now. I saw him go in somewhere, I’m sure you’ll find this entrance when you get here.

With that Yuta drives off and tries to find his way back to the campus, hoping that this would be successful for Mark and Johnny. He had such a strong feeling about this, everything could go right, or just extremely wrong. But he had to expect both to keep his feet on the ground. He did the right thing. He kept telling himself that.

“Dude this place is sketchy as hell.” Mark says, looking around. “Do you think Yuta told us the truth? I mean he’s Jaehyun’s bestfriend right?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try Mark, he seemed pretty genuine about it. Besides, all Jaehyun does is use him. I’m sure he’s tired of it.” Johnny says as they searched the place with their flashlights, their guns ready to fire if they ever go under attack.

Finally, they find the entrance Yuta has been talking about, the chain attached to the door unlocked and loosened. When they get closer they arm themselves and keep their guard, Johnny kicks the door open and Mark could not believe what he had just seen.

This couldn’t be. He kept repeating to himself, he didn’t want to believe that this was his reality.

The reality that you were the one who was behind all of this.

“Hands up! We’re the police.” Johnny shouts, echoing throughout the entire warehouse.

Mark gulps, he could not bring himself to move his feet and go closer. When you see him, you feel like you have been the biggest disappointment in someone’s life. “Kalen,” You plead with your hands up, terrified with the fact that Johnny had called off a warning shot, making you and Jaehyun back up.

“Y/n.” Mark says, still struggling to get closer to you and lift his arm to aim his gun towards you. “Why- how could you?”

And you couldn’t answer him. The last thing you ever wanted to do was disappoint him, and yet you turned out to be every single disappointment that this world could think of.

“Great.” Jaehyun says in anger, remorseful with the fact that both of you just got caught by the two people who had been the closest to you these past months.

“Mark, come on. This is just as hard as it is for me than it is for you. We have to do this. It’s all we’ve been working for.” Johnny faces him, also extremely disheartened by this revelation.

Mark? His real name was Mark? “Who’s Mark?” You ask before he continues to approach you.

“Right. Now you know.” He takes a deep breath. He gets his handcuffs out of his pocket and races towards you before you could even get away. It was bizarre; how you even thought of escaping this.

“You have the right to remain silent,” His hands shake while putting them against your back, “Anything that you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.” He swallows, and you sob.

“I’m so sorry I-” he cuts you off.

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.” He concludes the Miranda rights and adds, “It’s one thing to disappoint me, but another to disappoint your father.”

-----end------

259 notes · View notes

sonnetthebard · 4 years ago

Note

a writing prompt maybe? A Lilo and Stitch AU where Hannah is Lilo, Lex is Nani, and Ethan is David and then Wiggly is Stitch and Hannah's trying to teach him to be good.

Ok, I feel where you're coming from and I love it! This is so cute! I'm gonna be a bit flexible with it though, stray a bit from the strict Lilo and Stitch story. It's gonna be similar, but differ a bit.

Genre: Fluff/ Comedy

Words: 1966

TL;DR: When Hannah said she wanted a pet, Lex thought she would end up with dog or a rabbit like a normal person... not an eldritch.

TW: Swearing, mention of sexual themes? I don't know how to label it but you'll know it when you see it.

______________________________________________________

"No, Wiggly!" Hannah chided. "Stop! You got to be good, otherwise Lexie isn't gonna let me keep you!"

If Lex knew half of what was going on, Wiggly would be back to the pound in before you could say "eldritch". She had told Ethan to take Hannah out to get her a dog at the shelter. Duke had said maybe giving her another friend at home would help her to be a bit less hostile towards the kids at her school. Not that she was physically aggressive, but... ever since their mom had been sent to prison, apparently she'd been a bit snippy and reserved. It concerned her teachers. While Lex was technically old enough to be her legal guardian, Hannah's teachers were concerned that maybe she wasn't emotionally ready for that kind of responsibility. They were about ready to file a case for Hannah to be put into the foster system.

So... this was a desperate last attempt on Lex's part. Because she was *not* losing her little sister. She'd been through so much shit to get her mom out of the house. So that they would be safe. She wasn't letting anyone take that away. So... even though she may not really have the money to support Hannah *and* a dog, she'd agreed to let Hannah get one. There were very few people that Lex would trust on these matters, but... Duke was one of them. He knew the system. Mostly because he was a part of it. But he also knew Lex, and he knew that she was the right person to be caring for Hannah. So... if he thought that this was going to help, she'd do it.

But... she probably should have gone with Hannah herself to get it. Because Ethan... was not the brightest, and he was prone to completely crumbling for Hannah. Which is precisely what had happened at the pet store that afternoon. He'd suggested a cute little chihuahua with a limp paw, or a sweet maltese, but... Hannah had gone right for the weird, green thing. Was it even a dog? Probably not. It had tentacles and it walked on two legs. Had the people at the shelter called it a dog anyways? Yes. Because what else were they supposed to call it? The only indication they'd gotten as to what he was was a small collar reading 'Wiggly'- which didn't help at all. Look, they'd just found it curled up behind Toy Zone one night, and it was their duty to care for him and then get him to a family.

Things had not been easy for Hannah so far. It seemed her little green friend had a thing for getting into trouble... and tastes for household furniture. He'd already eaten two of her books and one of her sock dolls. Right now, she was trying to get him to stop eating one of her pillows. He seemed to revel in tearing his prey apart before eating it. His eyes got all wild, and... he looked so happy that Hannah almost didn't want to stop him. But she had to, because if he destroyed anything noticeable he'd be gone. And Webby had told her that she needed to pick this little guy. He seemed to make 'hr' sound in disappointment. But what came next was far from anything Hannah would have expected him to do.

"But Banana... it's so yummy-wum!" A goofy, light and child-like singsong tenor voice protested.

"You talk." Hannah breathed, eyes widening.

"Only to you, Hannah Banana." Wiggly giggled. "You are the only person who can hear my voice."

"Is that why Webby told me to get you?" Hannah asked, curious. He seemed to scowl at the mention of her name.

"Stupid bitch... thinks I need to rehabilitate." Wiggly grumbled.

"What's rehabilitate?" Hannah asked.

"It means... I've been very naughty." Wiggly told her. Hannah cringed at that.

"Don't... Mom..." Hannah mumbled.

"I've been bad." Wiggly corrected himself. "So she sent me to you. She thinks you can make me good."

"Me?" Hannah blinked.

"She says we'll be good for each other." Wiggly mocked her, clearly not happy about it. "She wants me to be your fwendy-wend. Because we both need a fwendy-wend, according to her."

"I don't *need* any friends." Hannah shook her head, her mood dampened by that implication. "I got Lexie and E."

"That's not what the teachy-weachers think." Wiggly cooed, the tiniest hint of amusement in his tone.

"Yeah, well... they're dumb!" Hannah fumed, turning on her bed and putting a pillow over head in frustration. That was a sore subject for her.

Hannah knew what the teachers thought of her. She knew what everyone thought. She didn't care. She knew who she was, and... she knew what she needed. She knew that she shouldn't have to put up with the shit the kids at her school gave her. She knew that they chose her because she was the easy target. Because they could get away with blaming her for anything. She was that girl from the trailer at the edge of the Witchwood, whose mom had gone to jail. That was enough for them to paint her as the punk. But that wasn't who she was, and... she hated that it's what people thought. She didn't even do anything wrong. She never said the things they said she did. She took a few deep breaths under the pillows, trying to calm down.

"That pillow-willow isn't going to help, Banana." Wiggly sighed. "My voice is in your head. "Like Webby."

"Leave me alone!" Hannah snapped.

"Nuh uh..." Wiggly tutted. "Webby says I have to help you be happy again before I can go back to my homey-wome."

"Yeah? You're not doing a very good job!" Hannah huffed. "Don't wanna talk right now."

"But Webby says-" Wiggly started.

"Webby can be a stupid bitch!" Hannah cut him off, frustrated to the point of tears.

"Uh oh! That's not very nice!" Wiggly chided.

"Just... shut up!" Hannah groaned.

"Fine." Wiggly sighed.

He sat on the edge of her bed for a minute as Hannah remained unmoving, trying to cool off. He dangled his feet for a moment before hopping off and walking over to a bookshelf. He tipped it over, letting everything crash and giggling. He surveyed the ruins, grabbing a small clay structure. He started to nibble on it softly, satisfied with it's taste. At around that precise moment, Lex entered the room. She was immediately drawn to Hannah on the bed. Her brows furrowed, and she sat down on the edge of it, rubbing Hannah's back. She was more confused than anything. Ethan had said she was so happy after getting her dog.

"Hannah Banana... what's wrong?" Lex cooed.

"Nothing... just annoyed." Hannah sighed, pulling the pillow off her head and setting it on the bed. "Teachers think I'm bad 'cause of Mom, don't they?"

"Yeah... yeah, Mom kinda gave us a bad rep." Lex sighed. "We gotta fight hard to make people see we're not her."

"Yeah, but... I don't wanna fight." Hannah grumbled.

"I don't either." Lex admitted. "Soon... we won't need to. Soon we'll have California. We just gotta stick it out and make it through life here until I make enough money to get us out of here."

"Okay." Hannah nodded, biting her lip, staying put.

Lex sighed, looking down at her feet. Sometimes he just didn't know what to say to Hannah. It was then that she noticed Wiggly crunching on the little clay figurine, surrounded by the mess of everything Wiggly had broken. It was one of a dog that Hannah had made at a birthday party when she was younger. She'd named him Bruno. He wasn't so special to *Hannah* anymore, but... it was to Lex. Wiggly and Lex looked each other in the eye for a moment, and Wiggly seemed to freeze, already knowing he was in trouble. Lex's eyes widened both in fear and in shock.

"Hannah... what the fuck is that thing?" Lex tried to ask levelly, but her tone was shaky.

"Oh, that's Wiggly." Hannah shrugged, sitting up. "He's our new dog."

"Banana... that's not a dog." Lex chuckled nervously. "It has fucking tentacles..."

"He's cute!" Hannah giggled. And she genuinely believed that, even if it was a jab at Wiggly. She knew he wouldn't want to be seen as cute. He grumbled at that and she stuck her tongue out at him discreetly.

"Okay... I think we may need to take Wiggly back to the pound." Lex tried to ease gently. "I... don't even fucking know where to begin taking care of him, and clearly you don't either because he's eating Bruno. I mean... look what he did, Banana! Look at your stuff!"

"Wiggly! I told you to stop eating stuff!" Hannah chided.

"Sorry, Banana! I'm just so hungry!" Wiggly whined. "I need to fill my belly-well!"

"Okay... the little noises are cute." Lex chuckled softly. Hannah blinked, confused, before remembering that Lex couldn't hear him. "You can't just tell an animal to do something. You gotta train it."

"Oh." Hannah blinked. "I think... think he's hungry."

"Yeah... we gotta get him some real food." Lex agreed. "Do you know what he eats?"

"Um..." Hannah bit her lip. She gave him a look. He shrugged. She turned to Lex, shrugging. "Clay?"

"This is yummy." Wiggly nodded.

"We can't feed him clay, banana... I don't think anyone can digest it right." Lex laughed. "This is why we should go get a dog! Let the people at the pound deal with this freak of nature!"

"Well that wasn't very friendly!" Wiggly pouted.

"Webby told me this one." Hannah insisted, ignoring Wiggly.

"Really?" Lex groaned, rolling her eyes.

"I dunno why! Said... said we gotta help him get good." Hannah shrugged. "But... Webby said it, so we gotta."

"Maybe... maybe Webby can find someone else to help him get good?" Lex sighed. "Banana, this isn't Disney. We're not Lilo and Stitch."

"Nani." Hannah corrected. "Lilo and Nani. And Ethan's David."

"No, banana. We're not." Lex sighed, shaking her head. "We're Lexie and Hannah and E. And Lexie is already having enough trouble with child services *without* that thing around. I don't know what it is, and I get the feeling that no one does. I don't think he's from around here, banana. We should leave him to be taken care of by someone who knows how to do it right."

"But Webby told me!" Hannah pouted. "Please! Just a week."

"Just a..." Lex muttered, sighing again. She bit her lip. She knew she would be insane to give in. But... she'd also be insane not to. Clearly Hannah was emotionally attached to this. And hey, at the end of the week, she could take the thing back. "Fine. Fine, we can keep him for a week and see how it goes. But if you can't train him to behave in a week, then he goes back to the pound. Deal?"

"Deal!" Hannah beamed. She smirked at Wiggly. "Welcome to the family!"

Wiggly rolled his eyes, putting on the most obviously fake 'smile' Hannah had ever seen on a pet. Clearly, he didn't think he was all that bad. But Webby had thought he needed the help, and Webby was usually right about these things. So whether he wanted to or not, it was now hannah's mission to make him good. She didn't know the half of what she was getting into, or what the week ahead would entail. But neither did Wiggly. Wiggly didn't know the half of what life on earth could do to you. And maybe, just maybe, that was a good thing. Because people can find the most beautiful things right where they least expect them to be.

#hannah foster #wiggly black friday #wiggog y'wrath #webby black friday #webby nightmare time #lex foster #starkid #black friday #nightmare time #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #oneshot #one shot #starkid fanfiction #send more requests!#lilo and stitch #tw: swearing

34 notes · View notes

anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

Text

Amira Wayne - Chapter 2

Day 2 of Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020! Woo! And, follow @biodad-bruce-month for more content!

Note: The AO3 Link to this fic will be on the first chapter only.

Chapter 2: Father-Daughter Bonding

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @vixen-uchiha @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123

MASTERLIST | Prev

Bruce looked at Amira, stumped by her wailing.

At first he thought it was because she already missed Talia, but it’s been a solid three hours since then and she never cried between that time until now. It wasn’t until he had placed her on his bed that she started to become fussy, her small hands waving all over the place.

Perhaps she adored being held?

“Master Bruce - good heavens! What is that- is that a child you have there Master Bruce?” Alfred asked as he stepped into Bruce’s bedroom with a tray of tea, appalled by the odor in the room.

“Meet Amira...my daughter.” Bruce introduced, watching as Alfred set down the tray, slowly approaching the wailing girl.

“Pardon me Master Bruce, but when was the last time you changed the young miss?”

“Changed?” Bruce asked, glancing at Alfred and then at Amira. “As in, clothes?”

“I meant her diaper.” Alfred clarified, picking up Amira and bouncing her in his arms, Bruce not liking how easily Amira stopped crying. “I will bathe the young miss while you start heading to the nearest baby store. Here’s a list of things I need you to buy.”

Alfred quickly took out his notepad and scribbled away, tearing off two sheets worth of writing and handing it to Bruce. “Hurry now. We don’t have all evening.”

And so Bruce was pushed out of his room, sent on a mission to buy... baby things…

“Do you need help si- Mister Wayne! Oh! I-um...how can I help you?” The store worker asked him, averting her gaze.

What was the richest person in Gotham doing in a department store like the one she worked in?!

Bruce looked at her name tag. Elizabeth. He’ll make sure to pay her for his troubles.

“Hi, I’m looking for all of these items, but I’ve searched throughout this store and can’t seem to find them.” Bruce said, handing Elizabeth the list Alfred had given him. He watched as the young girl’s eyes widened before looking at Bruce and back at the list.

“You can find all of these on our third floor, in the baby department.” Elizabeth provided, stifling a laugh when Bruce looked at her confused.

There was a third floor? “Would you like it for someone to-”

“Please.” Bruce practically begged, Elizabeth nodding. Bruce watched as she ran to a fellow coworker, gestured at him before running back to him. Bruce noticed the way the other coworker paled when she saw him.

“Well Mister Wayne, my name is Elizabeth and I’ll be glad to be of service.”

“Thank you so much.”

Bruce spent the next three hours being led by Elizabeth around the baby section, only then noticing that he really wasn’t up to the task.

When Elizabeth talked about Amira’s age, Bruce didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how old she was, what she was able to do or even eat. Vaccines? Apparently, babies needed that too.

“I also suggest talking to your daughter frequently.” Elizabeth states, picking up another adorable outfit for Amira. You can never go wrong with dresses. “Talking to her would help enhance her speech, especially if she’s not babbling. Babbling should be common for her if she’s around six months old.”

“How do you know so much?” Bruce decided to ask, looking at the cart that was almost filled to the brim with supplies and clothes. There were bottles, sippy cups, plastic bowls, bibs, a few interactive toys, a white crib and a stroller. Oh...and diapers...lots of them.

“Well, I want to become a pediatrician, so I often find myself reading about child development and such during my time off.” Elizabeth told him with a soft smile. “And then there’s the fact that I practically raised my two younger siblings since they were newborns. I often helped my mother take care of them, absorbing all the new knowledge like a sponge.

While it sounds like she dumped a bit of the responsibility on me, I know my mother meant well. A slice of what it meant to be a mother, to be responsible for another life.”

Bruce hummed at her answer, picking up a white pajama on the rack, wondering if Amira would even like it. Does she even know what a bee was? Did she even know what was going on? Did he even know what was going on? What his life was for him now?

“I wonder if I’m up to the task.” Bruce muttered to himself, but Elizabeth heard it loud and clear.

“No one is born knowing what they’re expected to do and be ready for.” Elizabeth said, picking up another outfit. “Sometimes, we just have to go with the flow and see where we land.”

Bruce repeated those words mentally, picking up another pajama, a yellow this time, it had a sheep on it.

Go with the flow, huh?

After spending hours in the baby area, Bruce was ready to go home, mentally relaying the notes Elizabeth had given him.

He started laying out the plans he had in mind for Amira’s nursery, deciding on using the room next to his. While the only way to enter it was through the main door, he could always make another door that connected the nursery and his room for easier access.

After unloading everything from the car to inside the manor, Bruce decided to bring some fresh clothing to the last place he saw Alfred and Amira, panic setting into him when he heard wailing coming from the room.

Bruce pushed the door open, seeing Alfred with Amira in his arms, the girl reaching for something that wasn’t there.”

“Welcome back Master Bruce.” Alfred wearily said, the two noticing that Amira quickly looked over to Bruce, her small hands no longer searching for him. Her wails became hiccups as she continued to stare at Bruce. “Look, Amira. It’s your father. I told you he would be back.”

As soon as Alfred said those words, Amira began to cry again, Bruce quickly taking her from Alfred and began to walk her around the room. He then remembered that Elizabeth had told him.

He should talk to her.

“Amira. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Bruce listened as her wails grew softer. “I went to buy some things, but now I’m back.”

Bruce listened as Amira softly stopped crying, now tiny hiccups escaping her. “There, there.”

“I’ve seen you’re starting to step up to the task, Master Bruce.”

“Someone has to look after her. Who better than us, her family?” Bruce asked, then realizing that Amira had yet to be clothed.

Bruce wandered to the bags, quickly taking out the mountain of clothing.

He quickly sets Amira down on the bed so that he can organize the clothing. In doing so, he missed how Amira sat up. He only noticed it when she had crawled to sit in front of him.

She can sit. And crawl.

“If she can sit by herself and is starting to crawl, she may already be six months old.”

Bruce watched as Amira took a liking to the two clothing articles in front of her. Or rather, the two pajamas. More specially the white and yellow pajamas that Bruce had picked out - the sheep and the bee respectfully.

He watched in wonder as Amira stared at them, looking between the two for a while before patting the yellow onesie with the sheep on it.

“Sheep it is then.” Bruce said, unbuttoning the pajama. How did he forget the onesie that goes underneath?

He quickly clothed Amira, clasping the last button to find Amira looking at him with her wide green eyes.

“You are a natural.” Alfred decided to speak up, watching as Bruce picked up Amira with confidence.

“Or perhaps I’m willing to learn.” Bruce stated, watching as Amira yawned, watching her start to doze off. “One day at a time.”

The two men luckily found out that Amira was seven months old, thanks to the birth certificate and other documents Talia had left in the baby carrier. It made certain legal procedures go more smoothly, while for others, it took some time.

As days went by, Bruce and Alfred started to notice that Amira was smarter than what she let on.

She knew to not place anything in her mouth that wasn’t food, something that both Bruce and Alfred appreciated. Bruce quickly found out that she liked to observe items, Amira often gazing at a toy for minutes, listening to a rattle make the faintest sound as she passed it from one chubby hand to the other.

She would recognize the places she was in, lay down when she was in the crib and remain seated while she was on the couch or in a chair. Alfred found out that she adored watching him cook, her eyes following every movement he made as he prepared dinner as she sat in her highchair.

Alfred also found out that she was very fond of strawberries and apples, Alfred melting when Amira would grace him with the largest smile possible when she would realize that Alfred had made her favorite purees.

She would smile and frown but would never make a sound that wasn’t a cry. Even when Bruce noticed that she wanted to let out a cry, she never whimpered or sniffled. It was as if she was suppressing those emotions. Luckily, after paying Dr.Leslie Thompkins a visit, Bruce learned that it was just a habit she must have learned while she was with Talia. Thompkins assured Bruce that by talking with Amira more, it would help her unlearn that habit. Surely enough, the doc was right.

Amira soon grunted, babbled and rambled more frequently and at random points in the day. Babbling not only helped her get Bruce’s attention, but also made him smile more. Amira soon learned that ‘Dada’ made him smile even more, especially when he would not be home for longer periods of time. As much as she adored Alfred, no one beats Dada.

Now having a system of communication, Bruce would often coax Amira to come towards him, Amira standing just three steps away from him.

He would watch as she would proudly stand by herself before taking a single wobbly step towards him. Another two steps followed slowly after, Amira bursting into a giggling fit when she reached Bruce.

Those tiny steps soon turned into hops, strides and jumps, Bruce not believing how quickly time had passed.

He watched her grow before his eyes, feeling a smile grow on his face as he kept listening to Amira read to him.

“-ate through one nice green leaf, and after that he felt much better.” Amira said, turning the page. “Now he wasn’t hungry anymore and- is there something wrong Dad?” Amira asked, Bruce wondering what she meant. “You’re crying.”

“Am I know?” Bruce asked, raising his hand to his eyes, wiping away what was a tear. Seems like he was. “It’s nothing. Probably some dust got into my eye.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be patrolling tonight?” Amira asked, showing Bruce himself in the form of a Batman plushie.

It’s been two years since Bruce became Batman, all thanks to a single incident that almost cost him his life. He almost left Amira in the same situation as him when he was ten...

He needed to make Gotham a safer place for his daughter, what better way than striking fear into criminals?

Some people of the general public are glad to have him, despite it being a mere eight percent. Everyone else fears him, except Gotham’s villains...and his own daughter. It didn’t take long for her to find out he was Batman. Then again, it’s not like Bruce was trying to keep it a secret from her.

As for the Batman plushie, it was a gift from Alfred to Amira, something about having Bruce always with her.

Bruce smiled at the plushie, getting up from the bed and tucking Amira in.

“As much as Gotham needs Batman, you also need me to tuck you into bed.”

“Dad, I’m seven. I can do it myself.”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to tuck you in anymore?” He watched as Amira pursed her lips before sinking into the comforter some more.

“I still like being tucked into bed.” Amira muttered, gaining a chuckle from Bruce. “Are we still going to the circus tomorrow?” Amira asked, springing up, watching her father’s face for some type of confirmation.

“Amira,” Bruce said with a frown, tucking one of her hair strands behind her ear. “Remember what we talked about?”

Amira hung her head, looking at Batman in her hands. It was times like this that Amira wished they never lived in Gotham, that her father wasn’t a billionaire...

“If it’s a place where the public knows you or a place that I can easily be spotted, I can’t go.” Amira recited, letting a frown replace her smile. She threw herself back onto her bed, throwing her comforter over her head.

Bruce let out a heavy huff.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, deciding to let her be. As soon as he stepped out of her room, Bruce faced Alfred.

“Is Miss Amira asleep already?” Alfred asked, motioning to the tray with a cup of milk. “She usually drinks a glass before going to sleep.”

“She’s awake, but I wonder if she would even talk.” When he saw Alfred lift a brow, Bruce decided to continue. “I told her she couldn’t join me to go watch the Haly’s Circus tomorrow. The press already knows I’m going, I can’t let them know about Amira just yet.”

“With all due respect Master Bruce,” Alfred began, opening the door to walk in. “The longer you keep hiding her from the public, the harder it will be to keep it that way. You can’t keep sheltering her away from a world she deserves to see. To be in.”

Bruce was left with those words in his mind, wondering what he should do.

Ever since he was assaulted, he vowed to protect Amira, even if it meant that she could not step foot outside the manor.

When she turned three, Bruce made sure to homeschool her, teaching her the basics of English, which included reading and writing. One she was five, he taught her the basics in math and science. As a side subject, Bruce was starting to teach her French, hoping to teach her mandarin when she grows older.

But now that Alfred was stating that Bruce should allow Amira to go out, Bruce wondered if he had been approaching this situation wrong this entire time.

But what if villains found out about her being his daughter? Of being a Way-

Bruce stood there in his thoughts for a while before an idea wouldn’t leave his head. Why didn’t he think about this sooner?

Amira let out a gasp as she entered the circus tent, gaping at how large it was, taken aback at how many people there were inside the tent.

There was even a second level inside the tent!

“Is it usually this crowded?” Amira asked the man next to her. Or rather, Tom Dupain - her ‘father.’

“I heard it’s like this because of Mr.Wayne visiting the circus today, but it usually is this crowded during Sunday shows.” Tom provided, watching as Amira continued to look around, a smile escaping him.

He always wondered what it felt like to have a child, wondering if he was even up to the task.

When Bruce Wayne had reached out to him to look after his daughter, Tom Dupain accepted the honor. After all, it was thanks to Bruce that his tiny bakery in Gotham was taking off, Tom’s dream of being a well known bakery taking form. All it took was one gala and Tom’s pastries for his dream to take off, Tom knowing he owed Bruce a huge favor.

He had met the young Wayne at that very gala, the girl having snuck into the kitchen to get a taste of one of his pastries. Amira Wayne - Tom only knew her as Amira and the granddaughter of Mr.Alfred Pennyworth. Tom didn’t think Amira was Bruce’s daughter as there was no news about the young Wayne.

While Tom had only known her for a few moments before Alfred shooed her away, Tom had grown a soft spot for the child.

“Mr.Dupain-”

“Tom is fine.”

“Mr.Tom,” Amira corrected herself. “Thank you for letting me be here today.” Amira said, holding Tom’s hand with both of hers.

Just as Tom was about to respond, the ringmaster chose that moment to begin the show.

Amira watched as the ringmaster welcomed the people and shouted out her father, seeing him across the tent, smiling when they saw each other.

The ringmaster then introduced the Flying Graysons, Amira’s eyes widening at how high up the family was. She wondered if her own father would allow her to be that high up.

With the cheering of the crowd, Amira watched with wonder as the Grayson’s started their performance, starting with a somersault. She watched as the man caught his wife with ease, the woman sending a salut before going onto the platform. Amira watched with absolutely glee as she watched the son do two somersaults in the air before returning back to the platform.

Amira listened as the ringmaster announced the Graysons' famous trick. Amira stood at the edge of her seat, feeling her heart thump loudly against her chest. She watched as the woman spun once, twice...thrice! But as soon as she was caught by her husband, the string of the bar snapped, Amira feeling her heart come to a stop.

She watched as the two fell and just as they were two were mere feet away from touching the ground, her eyes were covered.

Amira would never forget the screams she heard as she was ushered out of the tent. She heard Tom whisper to her that everything was going to be okay in rushed French.

That everything was fine.

That was the first and last time she was allowed to step out of the manor for a very long time.

#maribat #bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #b!dbwm2020 #bio!dadbrucewaynemonth2020 #amira wayne #anju writes

202 notes · View notes

aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

Text

Azirafeast - The Feast of Aziraphale

Yo I heard there was a thing and I wrote you all a fic...and then it kind of got out of hand...The first bit was the story I meant to tell, but for once I succumbed to the urge for a soft epilogue or two. Enjoy!

30 Days after Creation

Angels did not get time off, certainly not angels whose sole purpose on Earth was to guard the Gate to the Garden at the Heart of Creation.

Even if the Gate, strictly speaking, didn’t exist.

Keeping the flaming sword well back from anything that might burn, the Guardian pushed his free hand through the vines and ran it across the rough stone wall for what felt like the thousandth time. Still solid.

The Archangel had explained that it would remain so, that the Eastern Gate would only appear should something go wrong.

“What could go wrong?” the Guardian had asked, worried.

“Many things,” The Archangel had responded with an impressive wave of one of his wings. “But so long as our Guardian stays vigilant, Evil will never enter the Garden.”

“Right.” The Guardian had swelled with pride, clutching his sword. “Ah. Sorry. Is Evil entering the Garden one of the things that could go wrong, or would that be the cause of the things going wrong?”

“Well…”

“And if it’s the cause, doesn’t that mean evil doesn’t enter through the Gate, since it won’t be there yet?”

“I suppose…”

“But then, if Evil in the Garden is what creates the Gate, wouldn’t it be better for me to be, well, proactive? Patrol the Garden, see that nothing is out of place, that sort of thing? Certainly would be a better use of this sword, to hunt down Evil before it could cause trouble!” He had waved it a little in his excitement.

“That’s not—”

“Then again, is Evil a being or is it an action? In which case, the better thing to do would be to stay close to the humans and make sure they stayed out of trouble, wouldn’t it?”

The Archangel had pressed his lips together and narrowed a large number of violet eyes, looking far from happy. “That seems to be quite a lot of questions.”

“Ah.”

And so, The Guardian stood protecting a gate that didn’t exist to prevent Evil which may or may not be a physical presence from entering a Garden he couldn’t see much of.

But he was an angel. He was devoted to his task. He had no need for time off to explore the forest (even though there were no forests in Heaven), or to investigate the exciting smells that came from the flowers nearby (certainly no flowers in Heaven).

There was also, apparently, no need for him to become better acquainted with the humans, to find out what they spoke of and why they laughed so much. (Technically there was laughter in Heaven, but the human version sounded much nicer.)

And so, day by day, he stood, watching the few trees and bushes in his field of vision, checking to make sure the wall was still solid. Birds flew past, the occasional four-legged creature trotted by, some with more fur than others. They took no notice of him.

And the humans. They were always together, and often accompanied by other animals, birds sitting on their shoulders, wolves following at their heels. More than once he saw the Woman walk past with a large rabbit in her arms, running her fingers through its fur. Other times they carried fruits, nuts, sometimes tubers, eating as they walked.

The humans did notice him, nodding as they passed, but never spoke to him, any more than they would speak to a tree or to the wall itself. He was simply part of the Garden to them. They never questioned his presence. They never questioned anything.

Then, on the thirtieth day, something changed.

The Guardian had just shifted the sword to his left hand for a bit, to give the right a break, when he heard something shift in the bushes. He spun towards it, raising his weapon to strike the Evil creature – but it was only the Woman. She stood half behind a bush, hidden up to nearly her shoulders. No, hiding wasn’t quite the right word – her face was plainly visible – yet she didn’t step past it.

There was something different about her eyes that day. They seemed more focused, intent. She looked at him directly. “Why do you stand there?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

“I…” Was he supposed to answer? Was it allowed? “It is my duty. I’m the Guardian. I guard the Gate.”

“What’s a gate?”

“Well, it’s, ah…it’s an opening in a wall, that things can come through. Large and impressive usually,” he added. The Gates in Heaven were very nice indeed.

“Can I see it?” She stepped a little closer, eyes shining, then shrank back behind the bush again.

“Ah. Well. Now that you…” The Guardian glanced over his shoulder again. “It doesn’t actually…exist. It’s more…ah…metaphysical?”

“I see,” though she clearly did not.

He assumed that was it. She’d either wander off, knowing there was nothing to see, or she’d ask what metaphysical meant, and then she’d wander off while he inevitably failed to explain it to anyone’s satisfaction.

Except she didn’t. The Woman stood there for a while, tugging on the leaves that crossed in front of her. “What…what’s on the other side of the Wall?”

Not that this question was any easier. “I…the world, I suppose. Earth.”

“What’s it like?”

“It…” Another difficult one. “It’s like the Garden, only…more real.” He’d explored a little, while it was still under construction. “Not as nice, really. More dangerous. Not as much food. All the important things are in here.”

“Then why is it there?”

“That…” The Guardian shook his head. “That seems to be quite a lot of questions.”

“Are questions bad?”

He thought about that one a long time, rolling it around in his mind. “I don’t know.”

While he stood there thinking, the Man appeared, standing behind the Woman. His eyes were different, too.

“Why do you stand there?” the Man asked.

“He guards a gate that doesn’t exist and leads to the world, which isn’t as good as the Garden.”

“I see.” The Man nodded. “If it doesn’t exist, why do you need to guard it?”

“Well, I…”

“Obviously,” the Woman put in, “if he’s a Guardian, he must guard. It’s in his name.”

“That isn’t actually my name,” the Guardian finally managed, then went a little red as the two humans turned back to him. Something about their combined gaze made him uncomfortable. He moved the sword closer to his face, so he could pretend it was a result of the heat.

“Do you have a name?” the Man asked. “I was supposed to name all the creatures and plants in the Garden, but I didn’t think that included you.”

“No, I have a name,” the Guardian assured him. “It’s—”

The next sound he made couldn’t really be replicated by a human tongue, nor transcribed into any system of writing that would ever exist. It was more than a sound, it was a swirl of colors and emotions and scents that had to be experienced. Simply uttering it seemed to make the Garden a little brighter.

“I see,” the Man said. His eyes slid across to the flaming sword. “Why do you carry that?”

“Oh.” The Guardian had expected more of a reaction, really. “Well. God gave this to me. To, ah, to help with the guarding.”

“How does it help?” the Woman asked, one hand reaching partially over the bush towards it, though she still seemed unwilling to walk closer.

“It, ah…” Aziraphale studied the flames licking up the orichalcum blade. “So far, it really hasn’t. I accidentally set fire to the vines a few times,” he admitted, “but that is certainly not its purpose.”

“Is it hot?” the Man asked, at the same time that the Woman, eying the edge, asked, “Is it sharp?”

“Yes to both, actually.”

The Man and the Woman looked at each other.

“Could you…” the Woman smiled uncertainly. “Do you think you could help us with something?”

The three of the crouched in the grass, staring at the sword. The Guardian had needed to experiment a great deal until he worked out how to diffuse the flame so that the metal was hot, but not too hot. A handful of large brown nuts sat along the center of the blade.

“There!” The Woman pointed eagerly. “They’re splitting open! Quickly!”

“Right!” The Guardian plucked the nuts up, juggling them from one hand to the other. “Oh, are you sure? These are quite—”

“Yes! Quickly! Remember last time?”

“Yes, yes.” Before they could cool too much, The Guardian began peeling off the shells and the bitter inner skin, rubbing at the softened meat inside with his robe to remove any lingering sharp bits of shell. “Finished!” He held out his hand, four light brown chestnuts filling the air with an enticing smell.

The Woman took one, popped it into her mouth, chewing carefully. “Yes, we did it! It worked!”

Next the Man took one, clearly savoring the taste as he ate it. “You were right. They’re wonderful now, one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.”

“I knew there had to be something good under all that bitterness.” She picked up another chestnut, waving it around without eating it.

“Do you think heat makes all the foods taste better?”

“It might! The only way to find out is to try.”

“What do we try next?” He was already climbing to his feet. “The grapes? The oranges?”

“Potatoes!” The Woman stood up, tapping her finger against the Man’s chest. “Just like these, good smell, but you can’t quite eat it. They probably just need heat, too.”

“Ah…” The Guardian still knelt in the grass, the last chestnut resting on his palm. He’d been waiting for the Man to take it. “I was quite happy to help you with this but…” They turned back to him, white teeth flashing in broad smiles. “…but perhaps in another day or two? I shouldn’t be away from my Gate too much.”

“Of course!” The Man helped him to his feet, and the Woman brushed down the back of his robe.

“Why do you wear this?” she wondered, once again moving to where he couldn’t quite see her.

“Ah…” the Guardian shrugged. “Well, in Heaven, angels usually wrap ourselves in our wings. I…suppose it’s just an earthly equivalent? Since I don’t have wings in this form.”

“This – this is what we need,” the Woman said abruptly. “We should make ourselves coverings!”

“Oh, no!” The Guardian held up his hands. “Please, don’t – it’s an angelic custom, not a human one! You have no need—”

“I think we do,” she said softly. “I’ve felt all day that…something was missing.” She shifted her arms a little, as if to hide behind them. “I don’t like it. Perhaps I’ll feel better?”

“I felt the same,” the Man said, stepping close behind her again, resting a hand on her shoulder. “It is…unpleasant. But we were able to forget it a little while just now, thanks to you.”

“Oh. Well. Um.” The Guardian picked up his sword. “Glad to help. Ah.” He held out the last chestnut, growing cool in his hand. “I suppose you should take this?”

But the Man held out his hand. “No, that one is for you, Aziraphale.”

“I…that’s not actually…”

It was almost his name. If you removed everything but the sound, if you simplified it for human tongue, it was almost how it should sound.

“Aziraphale…” the angel murmured to himself. It made him feel warm, this simplified version of his name. It made him feel…welcome. “You know…I think I rather like it.”

“Good!” The Man patted him on the shoulder with another smile. “Now, return to your Gate that isn’t a gate, and we shall see you in a few days with more foods to make hot!” He laughed, as did the Woman.

And, though he wasn’t quite sure why, Aziraphale joined in.

After the angel had left, the Man and the Woman walked back through the trees, searching for one of their customary sleeping spaces. The Woman paused, glancing into a darker part of the shadows.

“You could have joined us,” she said to a formless black presence. It hissed back. “I don’t see why not,” she insisted. Crouching down, she left the last chestnut on a stone. “That one’s for you.”

A blunt nose emerged from the pitch blackness beneath the trees, another shadow more solid than the rest, and nudged the tan nut. “Ssssserpentsss don’t eat thessssse.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the Man who shrugged. “What do you eat, then?”

Another hiss, but no other response.

“We’ll find something you do like,” she said, taking the Man’s hand and walking deeper into the trees.

Long after they’d left, the shadow shifted.

A pale hand with long, thin fingers snatched up the chestnut.

“Hmmm,” a grudging voice admitted. “This isn’t bad.”

Ante diem XI Kalendas Decembribus, DCCXCIII Ab Urbe Condita

(Eleven Days before the Kalends of December, 793rd Year After the Founding of the City)

“Where exactly is this restaurant?” Crowley demanded, wandering behind Aziraphale in that strange, swaying way of his.

“Well, I’m certain it’s…it’s certainly around here somewhere!” The Angel peered down yet another street. “No, that’s…Perhaps the other way?”

“Are you lost?”

“No! Angels don’t get lost.” He frowned, turning in a circle right in the center of the little crossroads. “It must be the restaurant that’s lost!”

“Because that makes sense.”

Aziraphale sighed, running his hands down the front of his toga. He was rapidly losing to Crowley’s bad mood, he could tell. Any moment, the demon would wander off to another tavern and lose himself in another bottle of foul-smelling alcohol.

He wasn’t certain why that bothered him, but it certainly did.

“Now there’s no need for either of us to panic.”

“No one’s panicking, Angel.” Crowley plucked the silver laurel wreath off his head, stared at it as if he’d never seen it before, and tossed it down one of the side streets like a discus. “Look, never mind all this, why don’t we—”

“Oh my word!” Aziraphale turned his head. “Do you smell that?” A rich, thick, slightly spicy aroma that seemed to bypass all his senses and strike him directly in the stomach. His eyes scanned across the shops lining the street. Three were food vendors of some description, and one of those had just pulled a hot pan out of the fire and was now filling a deep bowl set into the counter of his shop with freshly roasted chestnuts.

“What are you—”

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the hand and dragged him up the street. “Quickly, my dear fellow! You simply must have them while they’re still hot!”

“I have eaten a chestnut before.”

“Have you?” Aziraphale waved to the proprietor and placed several coins on the counter, helping himself to a bowl full of steaming chestnuts. “I always seem to crave them this time of year. Not really sure why, but oh, these smell simply delightful!”

In a way, they would never be as good as that first one he’d eaten, walking back to his Gate, filled with the warmth of…of everything that had happened that night. Turning over the new name in his mind as he turned the new flavor over on his tongue. Nothing would ever compare to the way foods tasted in the Garden, so simple and pure.

Certainly, nothing had felt the same after he reached the Gate, horrified to see the large opening in the Wall, vines and trees parting to give a clear view through the stones to the desert beyond.

There had been much to worry about in those days. Was it somehow his fault, for abandoning his post for nearly half a day? Had giving the humans his sword been the right choice? Would the foods in the real world even be edible?

And yet, the humans had not only survived, they’d thrived. They’d found ways to combine different foods to create an art that no angel had ever imagined. The wonderful, buttery, spicy crunch in his mouth now was proof of that.

His eyes fluttered open to find Crowley was staring at him, jaw tight. “Oh, I’m being rude,” Aziraphale said, holding out the bowl. “Please, have some.”

Crowley’s hand reached towards the bowl slowly.

Somewhere down the street, a woman’s voice screamed. A man emerged from a side street, clutching a small basket, running directly towards them. The woman emerged behind him, clutching her arm painfully. “He stole my—”

Suddenly, the man’s feet shot out from under him, and he fell hard on his behind, rolling across a street suddenly filled with hard round chestnuts. When he pushed himself up at the mouth of another side street, something long, thin and silvery slithered out, wrapping around his arm. The man shouted and tried to pull away from the strange leaf-covered vine, but it held him, pulling him to lie flat.

The woman picked her way quickly across the chestnut-strewn ground to retrieve her lost property, giving the man a firm kick just to be sure.

Though it was all over in a few seconds, the commotion drew Crowley’s attention, and he started to turn away.

“Ah-ah.” Aziraphale caught Crowley’s chin with his finger, turning it back to face him. “Really, my dear, you must learn to focus your attention.”

“Yeah but – didn’t you hear…?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” A quick glance assured the angel that no other troublemakers would be wandering in their direction. “Here, try this one.” He selected one of the larger chestnuts and held it out to Crowley with a smile.

19 November, 2019

“And then I said to him, ‘This is a genuine first edition with the original author’s signature, marginalia, and tea stains, and if you think I would let it go for anything as petty as money—‘”

“Hold that thought.” They’d been wandering up and down the streets of London for hours, as they often did on weekends, holidays or, in this case, random Tuesdays. But Crowley had just spotted a little cart parked halfway along Westminster Bridge.

He walked a little faster, leaving Aziraphale to tut and huff behind him. Fortunately, they didn’t have far to go, and there was no line, as all the humans crowded around the cart suddenly remembered urgent appointments elsewhere.

Crowley handed over some coins, and by the time Aziraphale caught up he was met by a demon grinning broadly over a richly scented paper bag.

“Oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “Chestnuts! You know, I was just thinking the other day, I really should get some.”

“Course you were.” Crowley took a few for himself and gave the rest of the bag to Aziraphale. “How else would you celebrate?”

“Oh? And what are we celebrating now?”

“S’a holiday.” Crowley nudged him with his elbow as they ambled across the Thames. “Most important holiday of the year.”

Aziraphale’s forehead furrowed. “World Toilet Day?”

“What? Is it?” He shook his head. “Humans really do have to go and make everything weird.”

“My dear fellow, the lack of proper sanitation in some parts of the world is no joking matter—”

“No, it’s not about—” Was there one day in the year the humans hadn’t made about them? “I’m declaring it my own holiday. The Feast of Aziraphale.”

“Oh.” The angel blinked, one chestnut halfway to his mouth. “Oh. But – you can’t just—”

“Course I can. And it’s really about time, too. Everything you do for the humans, you deserve your own Feast day. Lazy bastards shoulda taken care of it themselves ages ago, but here I am, cleaning up their mess as usual.”

“Actually, it’s more usual for them to—”

“And that’s why today, Nineteenth of November, is now the Feast of Aziraphale! I’ll make sure they start marking it on all the calendars.”

They walked in silence for a few steps, before the soft voice started exactly as Crowley had expected: “Now, really, my dear, it’s…it’s a nice sentiment, but I don’t deserve—”

“Yes.” Crowley slung his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and pulled him closer as they walked. “You do.”

He didn’t need to see Aziraphale’s face to know how he smiled, how he blinked his eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. Crowley certainly didn’t look. He already had the angel’s every expression committed to memory, and anyway, he deserved a little privacy.

“So, ah…” Aziraphale cleared his throat and stepped a little away, trying to fix his waistcoat one-handed. “How, precisely, does one celebrate this feast?”

“Well, traditionally, there’s the roasted chestnuts,” Crowley said, reaching into the bag for a few more. “Enjoyed with one’s closest friends.”

This time he did catch that smile, a little fleeting one of pure joy. “Already there. Anything else?”

“I thought, perhaps…” A toss of his head as Crowley made his voice casual. “Dinner at the Savoy? Followed by a couple bottles of wine?”

“That all sounds rather cozy,” Aziraphale admitted, now looking directly ahead. “But I should think there should be something a little more dramatic, to mark the occasion.”

“Such as?”

Aziraphale handed him back the bag of chestnuts, which Crowley took without thinking.

Then the angel grabbed him by the lapels, propelled him back against the bridge railing, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Crowley gasped, and Aziraphale took that opening to drink even deeper, pressing Crowley back until he needed to grip the green metal with his free hand.

It was only the third time they’d kissed, as they found their way towards a new normal. It was something Crowley could get used to, but at the same time hoped he never did.

Aziraphale finally stepped back, allowing him to catch his breath. “Yeah that…we can include…s’there more where that came from?”

“Hmmm. Dinner first.” Aziraphale paused, leaning over the railing to consider the city beyond. “And, I think, a toast.” He handed Crowley a flute of champagne, the second materializing in his hand right after.

“Does this pair with street vendor chestnuts?”

“Shut up, my dear.”

They raised their glasses. “What do we drink to? You, I assume.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “To us. To them.” He gestured to the mass of humanity, moving about their daily lives. “To a night spent with those we care about most. And, as always…”

Crowley brought the rim of his glass to meet Aziraphale’s. “To the world.”

A/N: Yes, 19 November is World Toilet Day, as well as International Men’s Day. I didn’t pick the date, but suspected the humans had rudely made it about themselves.

#good omens fanfiction #azirafeast #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #Garden Of Eden #ancient rome #post nopocalypse #falling in love #friendship #roasted chestnuts #i made myself real hungry on this one #adam and eve #aziraphale and crowley #aziraphale/crowley #asexual ineffable husbands #anniversary #the feast of aziraphale #my writing

122 notes · View notes

wesokkasimp · 4 years ago

Text

impulsive (part one)

TW!! mild swearing, mentions of death, bad makeout scene

word count: 8766

You woke up to a splitting headache. For a few minutes you couldn’t concentrate on, much less remember, anything. All you could do was focus on the pounding in your head while you pitied yourself.

Then, it all started to come back, bit by bit. Azula had split off from you, Mai, and Ty Lee to find the Avatar, tasking the three of you with finding his friends. You had found and fought them pretty easily, but things took a turn for the worse when the sky bison flung your comrades into the water. You were spared from the lake, but had been knocked unconscious by the male Water Tribe peasants toy. That was probably where your headache had come from. But that didn’t answer the question of where you were. Suddenly, your thoughts were cut off by a shout.

“Guys, something’s moving in the tent. I think she’s awake!”

Okay, that was definitely not Mai, Ty Lee, or Azula. Something wasn’t right.

You tried to sit up and stretch, but found that your hands had been bound. You realized that your ankles were bound, too. An uneasy feeling began to settle in your stomach. It couldn’t be…

The tent flaps began to shuffle. As an unfamiliar figure entered the vicinity, you caught bits and pieces of conversation. Spirits of the islands, now was not the time for a migraine.

“Are you sure she’s awake?”

“She doesn’t look conscious…”

“Is she falling back asleep?”

“Hey! Whoever you are! Don't…”

****************************

You woke up again, this time with a milder headache and a clearer mind. Unlike the last time you woke up, you were not alone in the tent. The waterbender you had fought with Mai and Ty Lee was sitting by your feet. As if on cue, she noticed that you were no longer passed out.

“Hey, you’re awake again! How are you feeling?” the girl spoke, genuine concern lacing her voice.

“Who are you? Where did Mai and Ty Lee go?” you mumbled.

“My name’s Katara. You and your... group fought me and my brother yesterday. Sok- er, my brother hit you with his boomerang and you were knocked unconscious. Appa knocked your friends into the lake, and they were taking a while to get out of the water. We didn’t just want to leave you there, but we had to get going to see if Aang was alright. So we, um… Took you with us.” the evidently uncomfortable girl explained.

“What’s an Appa? Who’s Aang? And most importantly, who gave you the right to kidnap me!?” you barked at the now annoyed peasant.

“H-hey! We may have just saved your life, so I would be a little more grateful if I were you. My brother hit you pretty hard, I had to heal some of your head injuries after we set up camp. Appa’s our sky bison, and Aang is the Avatar. Y’know, the person you’re trying to kidnap?” the Water Tribe girl snarked.

Suddenly, a boy entered the tent. You recognized him from your fight at the lake the other day, and he looked similar to Katara. He must be her brother.

“Did she finally wake up? I heard shouting.” the boy asked his sister.

“Yeah, she did. Now, if you could kindly untie my hands I can leave and we can pretend this never happened,” you huffed, not wanting to waste another second with these low-life peasants.

“We can’t just let you go! You’ll probably try to kidnap Aang, and even if you don’t, you’ll definitely tell your little girl gang where we are! We need to stay here for a while so that Aang can learn earthbending, Toph said that he’d pick it up quicker if he learned all the basics in the same spot,” the boy sneered.

“Who are you? And who’s Toph?” you asked, seemingly innocent. In reality, you were gathering possibly useful information to give to Azula when you were finally released.

They would release you, right?

“I’m Sokka, the guy that hit you in the head with a boomerang,” he stated smugly, pride washing over him as he watched you scowl. “Toph is… Well, I’ll just get her in here.”

After a few uncomfortable beats of silence with the waterbender, the boy entered the tent again, this time with a small girl following him.

“This is Toph. She’s teaching Aang earthbending,” Sokka sighed. He was clearly already exasperated.

You took in the girl standing above you. She was quite small and delicate looking. As your eyes traveled to her face, you noticed her eyes were glazed over. Realizing she was blind, you let out a hearty cackle.

“What’s so funny?” the girl demanded. It seemed she also had a bad temper.

“Oh, nothing,” you sighed. “I just think it’s a little funny that the best earthbending teacher the Avatar could find is a tiny blind girl.”

A chunk of earth shot up from the ground and smacked you square in the forehead the second you finished that sentence.

“Hey! H-how can you see where I am?” you squeaked. Perhaps you had underestimated this girl.

“I see everything with my feet, dunderhead. Ever heard of seismic sense? You’re lucky that’s all I did, because trust me, Princess, I’m capable of a lot more,” Toph chuckled.

Okay, this girl was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Your gut was telling you, and your gut never lied. You made a mental note to report all of this to Azula.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I really need to get going. I know you guys don’t trust me, you’d be fools if you did, but what are you going to do with me? I’m a world class combat expert, I’ve been in worse situations, so unless you're planning to keep an eye on me 24/7 and putting better restraints on me I’ll probably escape by dawn,” you drawled.

“She has a point, y’know. Azula is the princess of the Fire Nation- it would only make sense for her to have the best team of warriors money can buy,” Toph stated.

“Azula isn’t paying me,” you scoffed. “I’d never accept pay. Serving beside someone in the royal family so closely is the one of the highest honors someone could get- that’s payment enough.”

“You think hunting down and kidnapping the world's last hope for peace is honorable?” Katara said, shooting you the deadliest glare you’d ever received.

“The Avatar isn’t the world's last hope for peace. If the other nations would just cooperate with the Fire Nation-”

“How could you expect us to cooperate with conquest?” Katara screeched, cutting you off in the process.

“Look, now is not the time to get into this argument. Right now, we need to figure out what we’re gonna do with…?” Sokka sent you a questioning look as he realized you hadn’t shared your name yet.

“Y/N.” you sighed.

This may be harder than you initially thought.

****************************

The group had come up with a temporary plan. They replaced your rope restraints with earth ones Toph made. They already had a night watch system in place, so they decided that whoever was doing night watch would simultaneously watch you.

You didn’t get a wink of sleep that night, so lucky you got to stay up through all four shifts. Katara had the first shift. Her shift was uneventful, it seemed she didn’t have the best social skills. She reminded you of Azula in that way. A lot of ways, actually. They were both 14, powerful benders, and overshadowed their older brothers. You couldn’t be positive about anything, but you were pretty good at reading people, and from the small amount of time you’d spent with these four misfits you had picked up a bit of jealousy on Sokka's end. Probably because his sister was a bender and he wasn’t. It was understandable- you’d probably be jealous of your own older brother if he possessed bending and you didn’t, even if it was a weak element like water. Lucky for you, you had firebending, the most superior element. Although you supposed it would be nice to be an earthbender right now. You had been thinking for hours about a way to escape with your firebending, but so far it had been in vain.

The next person on the night watch was Sokka. Unlike Katara, he attempted to make small talk with you.

“So, how long have you known Azula?” the watertribe peasant questioned. You thought about the question, and after deciding there wasn’t a way your answer could be used against you later, you answered,

“About two months. She knew Ty Lee and Mai from The Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls. I went there too, but we didn’t know each other. When her father asked her to hunt down her brother, she saw my name on the top of a list of elite soldiers. She asked me to join her team, and I accepted.”

“You were in the military?” Sokka asked. His eyes widened, probably wondering why someone as young as you was in the military. After all, you were only 16.

“Yup. My family was pretty poor, until some soldiers came to our house one day and saw my brother and I were firebending prodigies. We got moved to a fancy housing unit near the Fire Nation Royal Academies. After I graduated three years ago, I was enrolled into the military,” you answered. You didn’t know why you were telling him all this, but Sokka was surprisingly easy to talk to.

“Wow. I can’t imagine joining the military that young. In the Southern Water Tribe the minimum age for joining is 17,” Sokka replied. “I actually tried to join when I was 13, but my father made me stay.”

“That was a mistake on your tribe's part. You’re a strong, able, young man. You could’ve been trained in a few months and then your tribe would’ve had another set of hands,” you stated cooly.

The boy only hummed in response. He knew it was pointless to try and get you to understand why sending a child into battle was wrong. He knew how the Fire Nation carefully bred its children to be cold-hearted, logical, and violent. Yet he couldn’t help but feel that there was something different about you. On the surface, you seemed like every other Fire Nation noble he’d come across: arrogant, cocky, and ruthless. But underneath, he saw more. Remorse? Guilt? Like you knew in your gut that what you were doing was wrong, but the Fire Nation had trained you to trust them and only them? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he had seen something similar in Zuko. It was more apparent in you, though.

The rest of Sokka's shift went without a word. The third shift belonged to the Avatar himself. This was the first time you really got a good look at the boy. He was shorter than you expected, but besides his height everything about him radiated maturity. You thought about what he had gone through to get that maturity- learning about the genocide of his people a century after it happened, the Northern Water Tribe fiasco, and being hunted down by two of the worlds most powerful firebenders. All in a few months, on top of the normal stresses of being the Avatar. You felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. Even if your loyalties belonged to the Fire Nation, you had never thought the genocide of the Air Nomads was anything less than barbaric, even if you would never dare say that out loud. But the Fire Nation had evolved for the better. Things were different now.

Right?

“You must hate me,” you chuckled darkly. Your voice was humorless.

Aang looked confused as he asked “Why would I hate you?”

“I’ve been hired by someone to kidnap you, and wholeheartedly agree with what they're doing. Don’t worry. I’d hate me too,” you replied.

“I don’t hate anybody. I could only hate someone that truly had no good in them, but there’s good in everyone. Even you,” the monk said. He smiled up at you.

You were surprised at his words. You shouldn’t have been. He was a pacifist monk, after all. Not many people had ever tried to see good in you. Why would they? You were a soldier that served your nation loyally. Nothing more, nothing less. There didn’t need to be good in you. In fact, it was better if there wasn’t any good or bad in you. As long as you stayed loyal and obeyed the Fire Nation, everyone seemed perfectly content with leaving you be.

The rest of Aang's shift went by without another word between the two of you until the very end. Aang started to stand, eager to get back to sleep, when you started to speak,

“Hey! I just wanted to, um, apologize.”

Aang's eyes widened in surprise. Was it possible? Has his ~inspirational~ words touched your heart this quickly? Reversed the years of brainwashing and abuse the Fire Nation had exposed you to? Maybe you would even willingly join their team! Maybe-

He was cut off by your explanation, “What happened to your people, I mean. Not, uh, trying to kidnap you.”

“Oh,” the young Avatar replied. “It’s alright. It’s not like it was your fault.”

Okay, not exactly what he was looking for. But hey, at least there was some good in you. Not wanting a race of people to be brutally murdered or wishing an entire culture to be wiped out was… a start.

Finally, the fourth shift started. Toph. You didn’t have much respect for any of these kids, but Toph was definitely the one who had garnered most of your respect. Despite her lack of sight, Toph was the most powerful earthbender you had ever seen. In a way, her blindness enhanced her abilities by heightening her other senses. She didn’t take shit from anyone, which was something you were insecure about. Being in the Fire Nation militia, you had to take shit from your superiors, unless you wanted to be discharged. Or worse.

It seemed that Toph was not a morning person, so about 25 minutes after her shift started, Toph dozed off.

For a second, you couldn’t believe your eyes. What luck after such a pitiful few hours! But there was still the problem of your restraints. You hadn’t really taken in the campsite, as you had thought you wouldn’t have the chance to escape. While you were looking around, a sharp rock caught your eye. Perfect.

After scooting over to the rock, which took more time than you would like to admit, you raised your arms and brought them down hard upon the rock. The restraints broke instantly. After doing the same with your ankles, you surveyed the land. You figured you only had about an hour until somebody woke up, so you had to get moving quickly. You had a pretty good sense of direction, and that sense was telling you to go west of the campsite. You began spriniting in that direction. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sprint like this for long, but you had to get a head start. Once “Team Avatar” realized you had left, they might go looking for you on their giant flying bison.

****************************

You had been traveling for two days now. You weren’t anxious about a Team Avatar member hunting you down anymore. That was a worry of the past. Now you were more concerned with getting something to eat. You had found some hope when you came across a town, only to be disappointed after finding it was abandoned. Even though you were hungry and thirsty, you were also absolutely exhausted, and this town could provide shelter. You walked into the first building you saw, ready to pass out as soon as you hit the floor. In fact, you were so completely out of it that you didn’t notice the building was already occupied. You simply entered, found a nice corner, and hit the deck.

While you may not have noticed the other occupants of the decrepit building, they noticed you. Well, one of them. A certain banished prince, to be exact.

He watched as you slept, not even sparing him a glance before you fell asleep. It was a bit shocking, to say the least. Any normal traveler would walk in, realize the building was occupied, apologize, and find another place to rest. This behaviour was suspicious. Too suspicious to not give you a quick once over.

Zuko walked over to you as quietly as possible, even though he didn’t need to worry about his volume. You were an impressively heavy sleeper, especially when you were exhausted like this. He crouched over you, taking in your features. His face softened for a moment as he saw the pure exhaustion gracing your eyes, hardening again soon after. What did he care if you were well rested or not? You were just some random traveler. He looked around in your corner and saw that there was no weapon. You didn’t even have a small travel bag.

Assured you were no threat, Zuko walked back over to his sleeping uncle and decided to turn in after a long day of training.

****************************

You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in days. That was the best sleep you’d had in, what, seven weeks? You began stretching your limbs, feeling ready to continue your search for Azula. Then the hunger pains hit.

You doubled over, letting out a small moan of pain. That small moan, however, was all it took to awake the Dragon of the West.

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he looked around to make sure his nephew was okay. The prince was sleeping peacefully beside him. As you let out another hiss of pain, Iroh whipped his head around to see you, a young girl, clutching your obnoxiously loud stomach. He had conquered enough small Earth Kingdom villages to know what starving looked like, and that’s exactly what he was seeing.

“Excuse me, miss,” he all but whispered. You whipped your head around, suddenly on high alert.

“I apologize, I did not mean to startle you. But I noticed that you seem quite hungry,” your stomach growled in response as Iroh spoke. “My nephew and I have a little extra food to spare, as well as some exquisite tea. Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

Under normal circumstances, you would have been way more skeptic of an old man you’d just met offering you food. But you hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since the night before you got kidnapped, and this weirdo was your only option.

“I suppose,” you sighed.

“Wonderful! I will get started on breakfast. Would you like ginseng, green, or jasmine tea?”

“Jasmine,” you responded.

“Good choice. Jasmine is my nephews favorite,” the old man replied, a fond look painting his face.

As Iroh started breakfast, you couldn’t help but feel as if he looked familiar. Perhaps he had been on the news? Or possibly one of your textbooks? You shook off the feeling immediately; no. It wasn’t possible some filthy traveler had made it into a textbook. You laughed internally at the thought.

About 45 minutes had passed since Iroh began preparing breakfast, and he had finally finished cooking the meal. You walked over to the corner of the room the old man and his nephew had been staying in as Iroh beckoned you over. When you got close enough to the younger man to get a good look at him, you got that same familiarity ebbing at your insides. It wasn’t an unsettling familiarity, just… strange. But you supposed everything about this situation was strange.

Just as you began to sit, you were interrupted.

“I’m sorry, young lady. But could you wake up my nephew? As you can see by the bandages, I got hurt quite badly recently and cannot move around very well,” the old man said sheepishly.

“Sure,” you replied. This old man seemed nice enough, and he was making you, a complete stranger to him, breakfast. So you didn’t mind waking up his nephew. It was an easy task.

Or so you thought.

As you walked over to the sleeping boy and crouched over him, your breath hitched in your throat. Oh wow. This boy was quite the looker. His scar made him look all the more badass. You shook off these thoughts as quickly as he came. No. You didn’t have the time to pursue relationships with boys you didn’t even know.

You put your hand to the sleeping boy's arm gently, shaking him just enough to wake up. Waking him up wasn’t the hard part. The hard part came after he woke up.

You know, the part where he proceeded to attack you.

You let out a squeak of surprise as he leapt onto you, pinning you to the floor in the process. All your normal reflexes and strength had gone with your full stomach. On top of that, you didn’t want to hurt this guy, spirits forbid his uncle reclaim your breakfast invite. His arms were by the sides of your head to keep from crushing you. He leaned down to your face.

“Who are you, and what are you doing?” the boy growled into your ear, his voice extra raspy considering he had just woken up. He sent you a glare that rivaled the one Katara had sent you the other day.

“Lee! This is not how we treat our guests. I invited this young lady to sit with us for breakfast and asked her to wake you up,” Iroh scolded.

“Uncle, you can’t just go around inviting random people to sit with us at meals!” Zuko protested. “It isn’t safe.”

“Hush, nephew. She’s joining us and that’s final,” Iroh retorted.

Zuko sent you a final glare before getting off of you.

The meal was pretty silent at first, not that you minded. You were pretty focused on stuffing your face. After a few minutes of comfortable silence passed, Iroh started some small talk.

“So, young lady. I don’t believe you told me your name. What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?” Iroh inquired.

“Y/N,” you responded. “I don’t think I caught your name either.”

“Mushi,” the man responded. “And this is my nephew, Lee.” he gestured to the boy sitting next to him. Said boy sent you another glare. You sent him your snarkiest stare back.

“So,” you began, “Mushi. Where are you from?”

“I come from a small village in the Earth Kingdom, you’ve most likely never heard of it. My nephew and I left a few years ago in search of a better life,” Iroh answered as his gaze traveled to the small travel kettle. “Oh! The tea is ready.”

Mushi took the kettle off of the fire. Huh. Fire. That wasn’t there when the old man had first invited you to breakfast, and you hadn’t heard him trying to make a fire. Unless he was a firebender, which was impossible considering he was from the Earth Kingdom, how did he start a fire so easily?

You brushed it off. He probably just had a lot of experience or something, right? Yeah, yeah. Sure. Instead, you turned your attention back to ‘Mushi’ (you suspected that wasn’t his real name), who was pouring some jasmine tea for his nephew. The smallest fond smile graced the boy's face as his uncle poured his tea. His smile was a nice change of pace from his usual scowl. You wished you could see him smile more.

Wait, no. What were these thoughts? You couldn’t go around ogling at boys like a school-girl! It was simply out of the question. You had one purpose in life: Serve. The. Fire Nation. Maybe someday your parents would arrange a marriage for you or something of the like, but you had no intention of falling in love.Wishing someone happiness and a crush were two very different things. Besides, you could never fall in love with someone just because of their looks. You weren’t that shallow.

Once you had finished breakfast, you walked back over to the corner you claimed to pack up. After noting that there was nothing to pack up, anxiety started to settle in. Realizing you didn’t even have a weapon to defend yourself with, you started to feel full on panic. You had been so preoccupied with escaping Team Avatar and staying alive that your lack of, well, anything had slipped your conscious.

This was not good. You were in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on your back.

Mushi must have taken in your state of dismay, because he walked over to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You seem a little lost, Y/N. Is there any way I could help you?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. But I think I’m going to have to stay in this town another night until I can figure something out,” you sighed. Every moment you became more and more anxious about how Azula would react if- no, when you returned. Would she be angry about it? Or did she view you as a disposable tool? You hoped for the latter. If that was how she saw you, maybe she would be pleasantly surprised when you returned. While “disposable tool” might not have been the exact way you described yourself, it certainly was close to that. Serving your country was a noble thing, and if you died doing it, it would be an honorable death.

“I think you are making a wise choice. It would be foolish to go out traveling with no resources. However, because you are staying, I do have to tell you something. I have not been completely honest,” the man muttered, looking at you sheepishly.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, incredulousness gracing your features. How could he have lied? He’d barely spoken to you, for spirits sake!

“My name’s not Mushi, and my nephew is not Lee. We’re not from the Earth Kingdom. Our names are Iroh and Zuko, and we hail from the Fire Nation,” Iroh explained.

“Oh,” you said, relieved it hadn’t been something worse. “That’s fine. I’m from the Fire Nation too. But why didn’t you just tell me in the first place?”

“I was not sure if you were from the Earth Kingdom or the Fire Nation. Most people are not comfortable revealing that information to strangers. People from the Earth Kingdom do not always react kindly to Fire Nation citizens,” the old man replied.

“Damn right,” you scoffed. “Personally, I think they need a little lesson in respect.”

Iroh hummed in response, not showing any other sign of agreement or disagreement. He didn’t want to scare you off or fight you, but he also didn’t want to show any agreement with what you’d just said.

“Are you a firebender? I’ve been teaching my nephew, so if you’d like to train with us, you’re more than welcome,” Iroh inquired.

You thought about the offer. You hadn’t trained in a week. You had decided not to bend at all while you were traveling to conserve energy, so your bending was probably a little rusty.

“Sure, I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you responded.

“Great! My nephew and I are currently working on a special technique that we started yesterday. We’re redirecting lightning. I actually made it myself,” Iroh replied eagerly.

“Wait, you can redirect lightning? Does that mean you’re a lightning bender?” you asked, dumbfounded. Lightning bending was one of, if not the most, powerful forms of bending. Because it was so powerful, the only people who got to learn it were members of the Fire Nation royal family.

“Yes, I can conjure lightning. But I don’t do it often,” Iroh chuckled.

Then it all began clicking into place for you- of course! Prince Zuko and former heir to the throne General Iroh! It hadn’t clicked sooner because of Prince Zuko’s banishment. You hadn’t heard his name in a few years, and he had just kind of left your consciousness.

“So you’re General Iroh? The Dragon of the West? The only man to ever conquer Ba Sing Se?” you squealed. General Iroh was a hero of yours. He was a strong asset to the Fire Nation and an even stronger bender. His loss of Ba Sing Se had been disappointing, and you personally thought he should have stayed. Still, losing a son must be hard. The loss of Lu Ten, whom you had thought was going to be the Fire Lord one day, was devastating for the entire Fire Nation. On top of all that, he was stripped of his heir status. The details on that had always been shady, as Fire Lord Azulon never mentioned anything about his wishes for Ozai to become the Fire Lord while he was still alive. Not to mention Fire Princess Ursa disappearing right before Ozai’s coronation. Still, reading into it too much was a waste of time. Fire Lord Ozai was a strong leader, and that was what the Fire Nation needed.

“Uh, yes. I did conquer Ba Sing Se for some time,” Iroh replied, trying his hardest to hide the discomfort that had now taken over his face. “But let's not focus on that. We should get to training.” he urged.

You walked outside with Iroh towards a cliff, where Zuko was waiting. As he spotted you, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Surprise quickly turned to annoyance as he said,

“Uncle! Was inviting her to breakfast not enough? Why is she out here?”

Iroh looked impatient while saying, “Zuko! Where are your manners today? Y/N here is a bit stranded, so for the time being, she will train with us.”

Realizing his uncle had called him by his real name, Zuko sent Iroh a glare, but he didn’t say anything about it. Zuko didn’t want to give himself away completely.

“I just remembered- you need to be in a calm state of mind for today's exercise. I need to go make some ginseng tea!” Iroh said, hurrying back to the decaying building to start the drink.

You groaned internally. You had grown quite fond of the old man already, but you couldn’t say the same for his nephew.

An uncomfortable silence took over as he just stood there awkwardly.

“So, how long does it take for your uncle to make tea?” you asked, hoping to quell the silence and get an estimate of when you could begin training.

“Half an hour for ginseng. He likes to get it just right,” Zuko answered. He was clearly annoyed by your presence, as he has hoped to work on the lightning technique his uncle created. But alas, he couldn’t give away that he was from the Fire Nation. I mean, really? Why had his uncle agreed to letting you train them? A free meal was courteous enough, no? Now a whole day of training would be wasted on teaching some random girl the basics of hand to hand combat.

“Is he coming back while the tea steeps to get us started?” you sighed.

“No, he usually stays by the tea. He doesn’t want anything to happen to it,” Zuko explained.

“Well, in that case, do you want to get started without him? Just to warm up?” you asked.

“Sure, why not?” Zuko mumbled sarcastically. Was a moment alone with his uncle too much to ask for?

As Zuko got into a standard position for hand to hand combat, you crossed your arms and shot him a confused look.

“Spirits, don’t tell me you don’t even know basic fighting stances,” Zuko groaned.

“Of course I know basic fighting stances!” you countered. “But why are you in a hand to hand combat stance? I thought this was a firebending session.”

Zuko froze. “You know I’m a firebender?” “Uh, yeah! I also know who you are, princey, in case you haven’t picked up on that either. Now are we starting or not?” you cried.

Zuko stayed frozen. “How do you know who I am?” he demanded.

“Your uncle told me, idiot. You were also the heir to the throne of the country I live in for a hot minute. It took me a while, but you’re not unrecognizable,” you replied.

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

After another few minutes of awkward silence, you spoke again.

“So hottie, are we sparring or not?” you asked, now impatient.

Zuko started to nod before he realized the nickname you had just given him.

“What did you just call me?” He tried his best to sound intimidating, but it was challenging considering his voice had gone up an octave.

You smirked. “Hottie. Y’know, short for hothead?”

“Oh,” Zuko sighed. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.

“You’re also, like, totally hot,” you said nonchalantly. You knew you shouldn’t have been flirting. That’s what you had been telling yourself all day. But he was just too easy! His cheeks flared up immediately after you called him hot. And you never got to flirt! You were always too busy training, or on a mission. Besides, it’s not like this will go anywhere. You’ll have your fun for an hour or two, and by the end of the day you will have figured something out and leave.

While you were trying to justify your flirting, Zuko was busy having an existential crisis. He was, for lack of a better word, bamboozled. Just… what? How could anyone, much less a pretty girl like you, find him attractive when he had a giant fucking scar covering a third of his face? He had barely even spoken to you, and his words had been cold at best. Why did you still find him attractive? Though he supposed he was thinking the same about you. Sure, he found you annoying and maybe even a little arrogant, but he recognized your attractiveness.

“O-okay. We can get started now,” Zuko stammered, his blush quickly spreading.

“Alright,” you giggled. “But be warned, I’m a little rusty.”

You and Zuko got into position swiftly. After stretching, Zuko got into an intermediate bending stance.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

As the first plumes of fire left your hands, you felt feelings you only ever felt while firebending. Grace. Comfort. Complete and total warmth. Firebending had always been a form of escapism for you, and it had killed you to temporarily stop. But now, as you focused on the flames erupting from your hands, you felt a sense of peace.

Zuko was surprised by your skill. He outmatched you, but not by nearly as much as he thought he would. It was clear you were naturally gifted at firebending; your elegant movements said that much. Zuko had the best private teachers money could buy at his disposal growing up, so he being better than you was a given. He assumed you went to one of the many Fire Nation public schools growing up, but after seeing your bending, he realized you must have gone to a pretty good private school.

After the quick warmup, Iroh came out with the tea.

“Sorry I took so long. Ginseng is always fussy,” the retired general sighed.

“Nephew, since I already told you all this yesterday, how about you take your tea and meditate for a few minutes while I catch Y/N up to speed?” Iroh asked.

“That works,” Zuko said. Oddly, after the brief spar with you, Zuko found all his annoyance at you disappearing.

****************************

It had been a grueling day of training. You were a fast learner, but it appeared that you were not going to master this technique any time soon Zuko tried to help you, but so far it had been to no avail. Iroh left to rest about half an hour ago, after raising his eyebrows suggestively at Zuko, who rolled his eyes at the gesture.

“You’re not getting you chi low enough,” Zuko groaned. This was the fourth time he was explaining this to you. “You need to let it travel through your stomach.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” you cried, growing frustrated.

“Just- I’ll help you,” Zuko mumbled, trudging over to where you were standing. He positioned himself behind you, putting his hands on your arms.

“It’s like this,” he explained. He guided your right arm a bit higher, and put your left arm at a much lower angle. His arms dropped from your arms to your waist.

“You have to guide the chi lower,” he repeated.

You did the motion again, making sure your arms were in the position Zuko had put them in. The places he had touched were still tingling from his warm, rough hands.

“Good job,” Zuko muttered. His hands were still placed firmly on your waist.

“Well, you’re a pretty good teacher,” you giggled. Y/N, you thought. You were trying to have as much fun with this boy as you possibly could.

“Is that so?” Zuko murmured, suddenly feeling confident. He didn’t get to have much fun either. And his uncle was always teasing him about not being good with girls. Maybe with you, he could kill two birds with one stone. Have some fun and get some practice around girls. He’d need it someday, to court his future Fire Lady. “Maybe I could teach you other things. Like firebending.”

“I know how to firebend, Zuko,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You don’t know anything too advanced, though,” Zuko retorted.

“True, true. I guess I could take you up on that offer. But with all the things you’re teaching me, I’m going to have to teach you a few things in return.” “Like what?”

You smirked, tilting your head back until it was under Zuko's chin. “Oh, you’ll see. But for now, teach me some firebending.”

Zuko's heart inexplicably started racing at your mysteriousness. Was he simply nervous that he didn’t know what you were going to be teaching him? Or was it the way your voice went a little lower? The new close proximity of your faces? The knowing smirk on your face?

Still nervous, Zuko took his hands from your waist. “Okay, in that case, I’ll teach you something I invented. I call it fire daggers.”

****************************

“You’re doing pretty well. You just need to push a little more chi to your wrists,” Zuko explained. He had been teaching you how to create fire daggers for about 45 minutes, and you had almost mastered it.

“Okay,” you replied. You took a deep breath, and tried your hardest to focus all your chi to your hands. You felt the warmth become more concentrated around your palms, and finally, you let out two, very concentrated fire daggers.

“Finally!” you exclaimed. “Wow, you invented this?”

“Yeah, but it took a while to perfect,” Zuko admitted. “So, what are you planning to teach me?”

“Oh, can we do it after we eat? I’m starving,” you said, careful not to tell him what you had in mind.

“I’m actually not very hungry. But you go eat with my uncle. I’ll train until you can come back.” “Sounds good.” You headed to the shabby building, leaving Zuko to train. As you were walking, you began thinking of what you would teach Zuko. You hadn’t planned that far ahead. Spirits, what about this boy made you so impulsive? Oh well, you’d think of something.

“Hello, Miss Y/N!” Iroh greeted.

“Hey, Iroh,” you responded. “What’s cooking? It smells good.”

“Some jook,” Iroh replied. “Where is my nephew?” “He’s still outside. He’s not hungry so he’s training some more.”

“Classic Zuko,” Iroh sighed.

He served you a bowl of jook, which you happily began to eat. As you were eating, your mind wandered to other places. Team Avatar, to be exact. You thought about how they treated you. Sure, they put cuffs on you, but that was expected. They weren’t complete fools. You thought more about the way they had tried to make you comfortable. They offered you water, like, every fifteen minutes. And food, which you had refused. That wasn’t a good idea in hindsight. Sokka had even tried to make you more comfortable by making small talk, and Aang had been polite when you initiated conversation. If it had been the Fire Nation who captured them, there would be no such hospitality. Why had the enemy been so kind to you? Maybe- no. How could you think such a traitorous thought? Still, now that it was on your mind, you had to let it out.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you asked, fidgeting with your spoon.

“Of course. What is on your mind?” Iroh questioned.

“Do you think this war is… right?” you sighed, not meeting Iroh’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” “Just… I was captured a few days ago, by the Avatar and his group. And some of the things they did and said got me thinking. Is it possible that the Fire Nation is in the wrong? We refuse to see good in anything but ourselves. I was taught from a young age to never show mercy; that mercy is weakness. But the Avatar and his friends were nothing but hospitable to me. I mean, what is the reason for this war? Conquest? Why are we trying to conquer the world? My school books say the Air Nomads were planning to invade us, but the more I think about that, the more absurd it sounds. They were pacifists, for spirits sake!” You hadn’t planned on saying all that, but once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. You felt confused, and now angry. Had the Fire Nation really been lying to you this whole time? Was everything you knew a lie? You felt like you were suffocating, shocked by the things that had come out of your own mouth. If you weren’t a faithful servant to the Fire Nation, who were you?

Iroh stared at his bowl of jook for a few seconds, contemplating what you had just said. Then, he spoke.

“Morals are something you must develop for yourself. Take a look at the facts and your own life experiences, and form a code of ethics to follow. I know how difficult it can be to question what you were taught, but we must always be bettering ourselves. Don’t take the easy way out, and always remember to trust your gut.”

You understood what Iroh meant. It’s easy to just follow someone blindly, especially if they’re manipulating you. Developing your own moral code, while harder, would be more fulfilling and worthwhile in the end.

“Thanks, Iroh. I have a lot to think about,” you breathed at a barely audible voice.

“Of course, take your time.”

You slinked off to your corner, figuring you had about twenty minutes until you had to go to Zuko. You hadn’t eaten much jook. You thought about your brother, who had always been the perfect Fire Nation citizen. He never questioned the Fire Nations wishes, not for one minute. You had always looked up to him, and longed for his praise so badly, so you didn’t question the Fire Nation either. And look where that got the both of you. You were here, stranded in an abandoned Earth Kingdom village, and he was, well, dead. Killed in battle at the ripe age of 17, just as you were about to graduate from the Fire Nation Royal Academy for Girls.

It was in that moment that you finally understood what Katara had meant. Why would the remaining two nations comply with the Fire Nation when the Fire Nation was trying to overthrow them? Complying wouldn’t result in peace. It would result in chaos.

Well, fuck. Now what were you going to do? You couldn’t go back to Azula, and your gut was telling you not to stay with Iroh and Zuko. You had to get going by tomorrow morning.

“Iroh, I have a favor to ask,” you said.

“Anything, my dear,” he answered.

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “Do you have, like, an extra canteen of water I could take? Or a little bit of extra food? I really need to get going tomorrow morning, and-”

Iroh cut you off. “Of course, Y/N. I’ll get a few things packed up for you, but in the meantime, I think my nephew is waiting for you.” “Thanks, Iroh,” you said, smiling. Iroh nodded in your direction as you jogged out the door.

Feeling much more optimistic and more sure of yourself than you had ever been, you sauntered over to Zuko, who was doing a few cooldown stretches.

“Oh, hi Y/N. I was just finishing up. Are you ready to repay me yet?” he chuckled.

“Not quite yet. Follow me,” you said in a teasing tone. Zuko got up and followed you despite the confused look on his face. Oh, how naive, you thought.

You led Zuko to a crumbling wall you had spotted earlier during training. When you stopped, Zuko began speaking.

“What are we doing over here? What are you even teaching me?”

You could tell he was getting impatient with you. Oh well, just give the boy what he wants.

“Never knew you were the eager type,” you giggled.

Zuko’s witty comeback died in his throat as you yanked him by the arm towards you and effectively pinned him against the wall.

“Wh- what are you-”

“Quiet, hottie,” you murmured. “Class is in session. Would you consider yourself a hands on learner?” “I guess so,” he whispered. The almighty Fire Prince was melting into a puddle right before your eyes, at your hand nonetheless. He really was too cute for his own good at this moment. His eyes wide instead of the default glare they were set in, his entire face red.

“Good,” you responded. You took his hands, which were hanging limply at his sides, and stationed them on your waist. You then placed your hands firmly onto his shoulders. Zuko shuddered under your touch.

“Ready for the demonstration?” you asked, serious tone not at all fitting for what you were about to do to this boy.

“U-um, well, I… ah-” Zuko sputtered. Was it only this morning he was glaring at you for joining his meal?

You rolled your eyes. “Lesson one: Talk. Less.” you stated.

You leaned in until your lips were just barely brushing Zuko’s. You could hear his breath hitch in his throat. But you weren’t done having fun with him yet.

At the last minute, you turned away from his lips, instead opting to place a feather light kiss on Zuko’s cheek teasingly.

You pulled away from Zuko slightly with a sly smile, just enough so you could see his face. His expression was shocked, confused, and longing.

Perfect.

“You don’t have to be so stiff, you know,” you giggled. “Move a little. It-”

Zuko cut you off with his lips, grasping at your waist like his life depended on it. You gasped into his mouth before hurriedly kissing back. Sure, you’d kissed a guy or two in your life, but none of them felt like Zuko. He tasted like jasmine and woodsmoke. His lips moved against yours with passion and vigor as he let out little sighs into your mouth. Your hands left Zuko’s shoulders, going to his chest instead as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt.

You pulled away from the kiss, smiling as he chased after your lips.

“Why… did you do that?” he whispered.

“I had to teach you something, didn’t I? Did you learn anything?” you asked.

“Talk less,” Zuko said, his eyes hazy.

You chuckled. “Yeah. Remember that one.”

You walked off, leaving Zuko to contemplate what just happened.

****************************

You left that same night. Iroh had gone to the nearby forest to forage for some plants, and Zuko was still standing at the wall, dumbfounded. That left the building you had stayed in empty. There was a small bag sitting in the corner you had slept in, packed by Iroh. You found a compass in Iroh’s bag, found which way west was, and started off in the direction, taking the compass with you. It didn’t matter; Zuko had one in his bag. You checked.

You weren’t quite sure where you were going. Going back to Azula was obviously not an option, but the Fire Nation wasn’t a good choice either. There would be too many things to explain to your family, and you could be sent to jail for abandoning Azula. Or worse. It would be better for the time being if you were presumed dead, not that anyone besides your parents and perhaps a few of your friends would care.

That left a few options. You could become a nomad of sorts, jumping around from town to town, never staying long. You weren’t built for that sort of life, though. The few weeks traveling with Azula had been enough to last you a lifetime. Omashu, now New Ozai, had become occupied by the Fire Nation. The Northern Water Tribe was secluded and virtually untouched by the war, as the recent invasion attempt had failed. Unfortunately for you, it was nearly impossible to get to, even by high-tech warship. That left settling down at one of the abandoned Air Temples or Ba Sing Se. The latter seemed less lonely and more attainable, so off to Ba Sing Se it was.

****************************

“Fine, but you’re closing tomorrow!”

“Okay okay. Thanks, Xia!”

You washed the flour caked on your hands from hours of work, left the keys in the small tray by the back door, and began your walk back to the small apartment you lived in, apron in hand.

You had been living in Ba Sing Se for two months now. After forging some papers and departing the ferry that took you to the city, you landed a job at a small, but lively bakery that locals of the outer ring loved. Your weekly salary was enough to pay for rent, food, and a few recreational activities too. Overall, you lived a comfortable life, and you would have been happy to spend the rest of your days in the life you’d built for yourself, even if you had to pretend there was no war.

You had been hearing about a tea shop from some of your neighbors. It wasn’t new, but there was a new employee that really knew his way around the drink. You hadn’t had a cup of tea since the ginseng shared with Zuko and Iroh, and you certainly had the money for it. Deciding to treat yourself, you walked into the store and ordered a cup of jasmine tea. After paying, you sat down at a table by the window and waited for your tea to be served. Drumming your fingers on the table, you thought about how much your life had changed in just a few short months. You had gone from a loyal servant to the Fire Nation, ready to sacrifice anything and everything for a facist tyrant, to a normal young adult working in a bakery. You couldn’t help but feel grateful you had fallen into this timeline. What if Sokka’s aim had just been a bit off and you hadn’t been knocked out? You’d probably still be out there with Azula, hunting down the world's last hope for balance. Crazy how one little action can have such a huge impact.

As you thought about Azula, your mind wandered to her older brother. You smiled at the thought of Zuko. Your time together had been brief, but you looked back on it fondly. Sure, he could be very aggressive and intimidating, but he could also be quite shy and bashful, if you got him in the right situation.

Looking back on the kiss the two of you had shared, you blushed. You felt giddy and slightly embarrassed at the same time. You had been so impulsive in that moment, but you couldn’t help it. He was just so cute, stuttering under your soft gaze!

“Order up,” a raspy voice stated behind you.

Ah, your tea. You turned around to accept the steaming cup, tip in hand, but something stopped you from reaching out to take the drink from the rusted tray.

That something was the wide-eyed stare of a certain Fire Nation royal family member.

“Oh,” you choked. “Hi again.”

a/n okay i know i said literally yesterday that this would be out in december but you never know when motivation will hit ig. this isn’t the full thing but i think that’s understandable since this bitch is loooong. the second part will probably be shorter. the other zuko h/cs will still be out before thanksgiving! requests are still open as well, but i want to finish this so it may take a little for me to get to them. thank you to @ladyamaya (sorry it’s not letting me tag you :() for requesting this. sorry it took so long. also, sorry if this sucks :)

#Zuko #ba sing se #zuko x you #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #sokka #katara #aang #toph #iroh #zuko angst #zuko fluff #bad makeout scene sorry

101 notes · View notes

yanderecandystore · 4 years ago

Note

The bullies with an S/O that’s just completely off the board? Like no matter how much they look the bullies can’t find /anything/ on them, all their school papers are forged and their home just isn’t able to be found no matter how hard they look? Maybe due to the S/O changing their identity after doing something bad?

That's hella specific and I love it?? XD

Sure thing boo, let me see what I can do.

Also, I'll change the ocs profiles to be paper drawings with digital coloring because believe me boo, I'm tired of redrawing them (and I believe y'all are tired of always seeing these new drawings).

I noticed that my paper art is a lot better than my digital art, and although I'm kinda proud of them I still feel a little petty because I wish to do cool stuff on the computer ;-;.

Anyway, just a heads-up if you see something off with the oc's bios.

TW/Tags: I have no idea what to tag this lmao // identity theft // illegal/unauthorized inscription // not an accurate representation of university/how universities work lol // abusive household/abusive parents // I may or may not have changed your concept a little, I'm sorry for it 😔

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Suspicion (fuck yeah, I don't know what to title this) [Yandere!Bully OC x Reader - Headcanon]:

→Adrien Coldwell:

For a person that prides themselves as the "know it all" when it comes to people's social media and reputation, he doesn't know anything about you.

This is a first for him, which is both annoying and honestly so intriguing. You didn't strike him as a person who would hide any secrets, and he had a hunch this was about to be good.

He searched for social media first, not finding anything about Avery Remington. Well, at least nothing with your face on it.

However, he did find something very, very interesting while looking at the school's documents, specifically the archives of all the students that have already studied here. He honestly didn't think he would find anything about you in these old papers, he was probably doing all this stupid work for nothing.

However, he was half right and half wrong. He didn't find anything about you, but this whole search wasn't completely lost, as he did find "you", Avery.

"- Student name Avery Remington, average grades and apparently no history of wrong doings or any bad behavior in general. Their registration to the Academy dates to 1980."

Oh. Ooooh, this was rich.

"- Huh." He said closing the documents and letting it where he found it. He was at least kind enough to let the palace a little organize after going through each paper trying to find your name.

Well, "your name". The only things that he kept for himself was photos of both the old documents about Avery Remington, and the earlier documents about Avery Remington. It was clear that you did something probably really, really bad, and you know he'll take advantage of it.

He had built his own theory about this, as in: you somehow found the paperwork of Avery's registration and their previous school's records so you could somehow impersonate them and get a free entrance to this institution.

He knew that you had something to hide, no one can be so perfect. But knowing the action itself wasn't enough for him, he needed to know the motive behind it.

For someone that is lazy and doesn't bother to care about important things, he sure spent a lot of time trying to scoop some dirt on you. When he finds the perfect opportunity, without any witness around, he'll take the chance to use this information against you.

"- Well, hello "Avery"." His tone was already suspicious, his voice not hiding anything from you. He came here to belittle you for his own entertainment.

"- H-Hi Adrien." You said shyly, hoping that your anxious mind was wrong and that this was all just a misunderstanding. You were hoping that the growing feeling of him possibly knowing about your fraud, was wrong.

"- Ya know, I'm kinda jealous of whatever plastic surgery you went through to look so young, maybe you should ask the faculty to correct your age tho." He said while showing the pictures he took of the documents.

"- Wait! I-I can-"

"- Honestly, I didn't think you were over 60 years old! Could have fooled me." His smug face was the selling point. You knew that you wouldn't find any form to convince him that what was on his phone was false.

He had a victorious smile on his face. Ever since you entered this school you always acted a little too paranoid and almost too friendly for his liking, and to confess to himself that he has fallen for you would be the bottom of the pit to him.

Still, he wanted to know why you did it. Why didn't you pay to get in if you wanted the scholarship so badly? What, you were too poor for it?

And what about a talent, or the test? Obviously, the university hasn't gone out of their way to pick a loser like you and insert you inside their classes on a whim, as they thought you were Avery Remington, a student that is already registered in school's documents (yet, of course, their system haven't verified the date of the registration, either by incompetence or by a "small mistake"). So you didn't do the test too, simply pathetic honestly.

Your sad dramatic story explaining how you managed to get into the academy. You did your best to get into the academy by legal means, but they always rejected you. Apparently you thought it would be a good idea to use your grandparent's documents to squeeze yourself into the institution.

"- But why in hell would you do such a thing? Are you that pathetic dearest?"

"- I… I wanted somewhere to go. Somewhere I could grow into a better person, a-away from-" You cut yourself short when the memories of your old home started to come into view.

For some reason, your parents couldn't stand the idea of you getting into a decent university, if anything, they thought you weren't capable of even washing some dishes at the local pizzeria. In their eyes, you were worthless.

When you found out your grandparent used to frequent this institution, and that they managed to disattached themselves from their familial routes and thrive as a musician you got instantly inspired! Determined to follow their steps and prove your family that you're just as worth ass-

"- Urghhhh- Boring! I don't care about all of that. Are you serious? You committed a crime just so you could stick it up to your shitty parents?"

"- …. Yes?"

"- Huh. Geez you're cooler than I thought. Listen, how about we make a deal?"

The deal was simple, he would not tell anyone about your little secret, and he would even help you keep your scholarship and help you reach your ambitions as long as you started spending more time with him. Which, at first you thought it sounded absurd, this man is holding your whole life by a thin thread as long as you give him attention?? What?!

And although that sounded extremely suspicious, you accepted it, not knowing that for the next few years you would have to endure a harsh training to discover your talents and to improve them before you two graduated. However, you started to think Adrien was starting to see your deal in a different light-

"- Come on now, after this we can go eat something okay? Where would you like to go this time? Our last date I chose the best restaurant I know, so you better choose something of equal value."

…. Date?

→Alexandra Coldwell:

You were suspicious from the very start. Overly friendly and too- Ugh! Too cute?!

You were always skittish whenever someone called you. What, you had a problem with your name or something?

And the worst part was how no one seemed to know where you lived. Every group project with you was considered annoying by most of your classmates, as you never called people in your house or never let anyone have your address, not even your phone number??

You didn't have any social media, what are you, a weirdo? What the hell??!

She is not even pissed about you being a loser, she is pissed that she has fallen for someone like you! A complete weirdo that was always panicking over nothing.

She started stalking you with the intention of finding at least one thing that she could hate on you so she wouldn't feel so- Lovey dovey towards you!

But what she really found was something worth an entire gold mine.

A private phone call between you and someone who was losing their shit. She couldn't understand too much of the conversation as she didn't have any context, yet she could hear a lot of things that you and the person were discussing.

The person yelled [Y/N] multiple times while in the phone call, saying how you were absolutely the worst mistake of their lives (which by the way, rude much? Who is this asshole?), that you were a selfish brat that needed to learn to appreciate their hard work.

Oh… Oh. She now knows who you're talking with. She decided to record the entire thing the moment she saw you taking your cellphone to have a private call.

She was planning on recording your voice for her own hearing pleasure, but this? This was so… Interesting.

"- [Y/N]?" She called your attention after the conversation ended, and because you haven't been accustomed to people calling you "Avery", you turned around saying "what" instinctively.

And when you noticed Alexandra smirk for a split second, you regretted answering your parents call. Not that you needed anymore reason to regret it, but this was certainly the last nail in the coffin.

You begged for her to understand that you couldn't go back, you simply can't go back to them, ever again! You told her the whole sob story about how your grandparent had decided to run away from home and fulfil their own dreams as a musician, even if people didn't really hear their music all that much, and now that you think about it, that's probably the reason why no one have recognized their name at all.

Your grandparent had a really small fanbase, and you knew that because you were part of them. They weren't popular at all compared to Amaryllis Academy standards, yet they were happy singing their songs to the world.

You kinda wish your family hasn't broken the old recorder that belonged to your grandparent. Their first album was in there, it was cheesy and filled with errors, yet they sounded so happy when doing what they loved, and you wanted something like that for yourself!

You needed to live that hell hole and so you did. You rented a small apartment that was falling apart, the reason why you never gave people your address was because you knew they would bully the hell out of you because of how poor you are.

After finishing your story you noticed Alexandra snoring beside you. You thought she was only exaggerating, but then you saw her drooling and acting really dizzy after you woke her up.

"- Oh my God, so… That was it? You ran away to follow your dreams and stuff?" She asked, still kinda sleepy.

"- What? Of course it was-" You were fuming with anger, how dare she-

"- And I thought you only looked cool because I liked you! You're pretty strong for sticking up for yourself." She interrupted you, looking at you with admiration in her eyes.

She proposed to you a deal. How about you two keep this secret together, and, if anything does happen she'll still help you stay inside the institution. However, you'll need to work your ass out to become the best you can be, and you'll let her guide you through, because you're too much of a dummy to do it all by yourself. You'll have to spend time with her and let her help you out.

At first, you thought it sounded absurd, this woman is holding your whole life by a thin thread as long as you give her attention?? What?!

And although that sounded extremely suspicious, you accepted it, not knowing that for the next few years you would have to endure a harsh training to discover your talents and to improve them before you two graduated. However, you started to think Alexandra was starting to see your deal in a different light-

"- Why you never hold my hand? Come on, "Avery", won't you hold the hand of your dearest girlfriend?" She asked playfully while taking your hand anyway.

…. Girlfriend?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep stuff #yandere oc #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere bully #yandere twins #yandere oc headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere bully x reader #yandere bullying #yandere headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #yandere

78 notes · View notes

pawprintsmoon · 4 years ago

Text

Henry has no clue; The Aftermath

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31306808/chapters/77401784

Once Alex leans into the kiss, the prince is royally screwed. An immense energy encompasses them, and he loses his breath along with all his remaining sensibilities. He pulls Alex’s hair, eliciting the sweetest, smallest sound. If he doesn’t stop right now, he won’t be able to stop at all.

“Fuck,” Henry swears, pulling back. Apparently, he still has an ounce of sense after all, or at least an ounce of self-preservation. “I’m just, shit. I’m sorry.”

Snow crunches beneath his stumbling feet as he practically runs away from the freshly snogged boy. The boy who must be having a total identity crisis. Even drunk, he could taste Alex’s confused wanting and a yearning that might even match his own. Impossible. The type of impossible that makes you question your interpretation of reality.

The humid heat and festive noises of the Gala overwhelm him as he re-enters the White House. He is sweating under his wool coat and his collar is too tight around his throat. The champagne in his system is tilting the floor, and it’s too much. Where the fuck is Pez?

Eventually, he finds his best friend between June and Nora, all dancing scandalously close to each other. It’s a testament to Pez’s loyalty that as soon as he looks at Henry, he exits the dancefloor, bowing to the ladies.

“What did you do?” Pez asks, leaning close to talk over the music.

“The most foolish thing possible.” He grabs Pez’s arm. “We have to go.”

After a beat, Pez nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

They walk through the party together, Pez’s presence keeping him from unravelling completely. It’s unlikely that Henry is effectively hiding his emotions, what with the drinking and kissing and panicking. Hopefully everyone around them is too intoxicated to notice.

“So, are we just getting some air or are we calling it a night?” Pez asks as they meet their PPOs at the front door. “Should I call a car to take us to the hotel?”

“No.” He imagines Alex showing up at their hotel the next morning, hungover and demanding answers. “No, we’re going home.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.” Henry’s throat is dry and his eyes are unforgivably wet. “Please.”

Pez stares at him, presumably assessing the severity of the situation, before nodding again.

“Okay, I’ll call a car to take us to the airport,” Pez says, pulling out his phone. “And as soon as we board the plane you are telling me everything.”

Within ten minutes, Shaun arrives with their luggage, a shiny black car, and three burly PPOs. Within two hours they are flying over the Atlantic Ocean, Henry pacing up and down the aisle of their private jet while Pez sips champagne.

"What the hell, Hen?" Pez says at last. Henry had been monologuing his panic spirals since they’d boarded the plane and is finally taking a breath.

"It just kind of happened?" Henry replies. He had fucked up, real bad this time.

"Well, to be completely honest with you, that was too fucking awesome!".

"You mean I did the right thing?" Henry asks, disbelief coloring his face. He isn’t sure if he’s asking approval of his choice to kiss Alex or his choice to run away afterwards.

"I don't know, Hen,” Pez says in an apologetic tone. “All I know about Alexander Claremont-Diaz is that you’re obsessed with him. This was bound to happen eventually, right?"

Henry has no clue how to answer, so he sighs and starts his pacing again. He knows he isn't going to sleep tonight, maybe not ever if he has a say in it. Alex might murder him in his sleep, even if he is protected by PPOs all the bloody time. He makes a mental note to ask Shaan to keep an eye out for Alex and his transatlantic flights.

…

"So yeah that happened." Henry finishes telling last night's events to his therapist who sports an impassive expression.

"Henry, why are you so afraid of Alex's reaction? For all you know he might feel the same way," Shannon says. The sincerity and calm in her voice almost soothes his racing heart.

"Because I do know he feels the same way, but he wasn't ready to know that. His obliviousness was the only thing saving us from falling together; the only thing stopping me from losing control. But then I lost control anyways because he’s just so bloody dense! It’s torture. Hell, both Nora and June have caught on. He’s going to be the last person to figure out he is queer! And I don’t, well, I shouldn’t have pushed it. Rash and careless.” Henry is rambling, but isn’t that the point of therapy? “Sometimes I think I reread Jane Austin too much, because I can’t help pining. Fantasizing. I thought, sure, he’ll see our mutual attraction eventually, and I can wait, and generally, or I can resist making idiotic choices I like to think I’m patient, but-"

He stops speaking abruptly and looks away from her sharp gaze. Even after so many years of therapy, it's still hard for him to talk about his feelings.

"But what Henry?" Shannon gently prods him.

"But I was...I got jealous when I saw them kissing and I just couldn't wait any longer for him to be ready. I know it was not fair, but I’ve known for years now.” He sighs. “I was actually just waiting for Pez to have his fun so we could leave. But...but Alex- he came outside looking for me and he was infuriating and couldn’t take a hint. I just couldn't stop myself. God, I'm such an idiot."

"Henry, we have talked about this before. Not everything is your fault. You need to understand that.” She pauses as if to give him an opportunity to agree with her. When he doesn’t, she continues, “And you told me Alex kissed you back so how can you be sure that he doesn't know that he’s queer?"

"Because I know Alex. I’m his best friend, we’ve talked for hours on end and he’s an obliviously stupid prat and I'm in love with him!" Henry snaps, but Shannon already has an answer ready for that.

"Yes Henry, but it doesn't mean that it was a mistake. You may be in love, but that doesn’t mean you know everything about him and his relationship with his sexuality. You aren’t a mind reader. Maybe he’s just playing dumb, and it’s a farce just like yours. The difference is you appear heterosexual while he appears to be oblivious. You can't know for sure."

That gives Henry something to think about, and he goes quiet for several moments.

Could it be that Alex acting so oblivious was just for the public? But that couldn't be. He knows Alex, knows him, knows him. Not only from the months of constant texting and late-night phone calls but also from countless tabloids and magazines. It didn’t feel like Alex was hiding anything from him. But who knows? Maybe he did it so that he could be himself but still not be himself. Maybe, he could enjoy the queerness but pretend not to know in order to save his political career?

No, that is not the Alexander Gabriel Claremont Diaz, he has come to know. He would be out and proud if he knew. Henry suddenly registers the fact that he is overthinking again when Shannon calls his name.

"Yes, Shannon?" Henry asks politely. Apparently she’d been speaking, but he has no idea what she was saying.

“You can tell me what you’re thinking, you know. That’s literally my job.” She smiles wryly and he grants her a weak laugh. “I was just saying that you can’t possibly try to know what he’s thinking about the kiss, or where he is with his sexuality.”

“Exactly! That’s the other thing.” Henry shakes his head. “Maybe I’ve been wrong this whole time. I thought I knew what he wanted, and that I knew what I wanted, but now I don’t know anything. Maybe Alex is just a very flirty guy. Maybe it’s just an American thing. I haven’t been friends with an American before-”

“Henry”

“- and he was drunk and I kissed him and he probably thinks I took advantage. At the very least, I ran away like a scared twelve-year-old.”

“Let’s try to take a non-judgemental stance here,” suggests Shannon gently. “And for now, let’s just imagine a hypothetical. What if you were right all along, and he really does like you? That’s very much possible, so let’s explore what that would mean, yeah?

Henry shrugs noncommittally.

“You mentioned a couple of weeks ago that you think that if you two get too close you’ll be doomed,” she continues. “Do you still think that?”

“Well, yeah,” replies Henry, looking at his hands. “If he likes me -which I’m not sure he does anymore- then inevitably he’ll get sick of me. I like him so, so much, you know? He might be attracted to me, but he can’t possibly like me the way I like him. And even if by some horrible miracle he does like me back, then what? I’m a bloody prince and he’s an aspiring politician, and there’s no way it wouldn’t end in disaster. The whole world would be looking at us. I’m just… I’m…”

“You’re afraid of getting hurt.”

“I… I guess. Yeah. I feel like I’m about to fall off a cliff, holding onto the unstable rocks, and I have no idea where I’ll land.” Henry chuckled a little at his cliche metaphor. “He must think I’m a complete tosser.”

“Henry,” she gives him that Therapist Look. “You can’t read minds. Journal on that topic this week?”

Henry sighs and nods, letting that sink in. She has said it before, numerous times, and Henry never quite believes her.

They sit in silence before Shannon redirects the conversation.

"When are you meeting Alex again?"

That's an easy question, Henry has known the answer ever since he left D.C. He answers immediately, "Oh never."

"Henry," Shannon reprimands.

"No, you don't get it. I'm going to be murdered if I so much as go within 10 feet near Alex."

"No.” She’s holding back a laugh as she tries to look stern. “The answer is that you're going to the state dinner and you're going to talk to Alex like a mature adult and listen to what he says instead of guessing what he’s thinking. Meanwhile, I want you to think about what we discussed today and tell me next week what you might want to say to him."

"Hour's up then?" Henry asks, because he suddenly can't wait to get out of Shannon’s office. He needs time to think about everything. Or maybe he needs time to avoid thinking about anything.

"We have five more minutes, but if you don't have anything to add today, we can end early." Shannon smiles warmly at him and he knows that if he wishes to continue she wouldn’t mind, but right now he can't. Enough talking of emotions for one eternity, thank you.

So he leaves and as he hurries to the car he texts Shaan: SOS I need about a million boxes of Jaffa Cakes from the nearest corner shop.

Then, sliding into the back seat: Please.

…

The weeks pass by quickly with Henry trying his best to ignore Alex's texts and trying to convince everyone that he oughtn’t to go to the state dinner in D.C. No one listens to him, not Shannon or even Pez. Not even his own sister, rather Bea tries to make him see reason as to why he should go.

It's all 'you never know,’ 'just trust me, Hen' and other bits of vague encouragement. Predictably, Bea decides to drop Henry off at the airport herself so he can't escape at the last minute. When he accuses her of this, however, she’s all 'Can’t a girl escort her dear younger brother to the airport, or what?’

As they leave Kensington palace she explicitly instructs his PPOs that Henry should at all costs stay in America for the allotted time and should not be allowed back even a minute too soon. Shaan, for some reason, seems extremely happy to hear those instructions and can't stop smiling. Henry scowls at him whenever he sees him, thinking that he is Henry's personal equerry. It’s a lot.

"Do I really have to, Bea?" he asks her as they near the airport.

"Henry, you know this is important and by that, I do not mean the state dinner. That can go fuck itself for all I care, but you need to talk to Alex. Hiding from him like this is doing no one any good. Talk to him, see what he says and do not overthink this, Hen please." Bea squeezes his hand lightly as the car stops.

They walk silently side by side to the plane where Bea hugs him and sees him off.

As the plane starts to take off, the panic that had been sedated by her hug starts to grow again, fiercer than ever. Henry keeps repeating the same phrase throughout the flight.

Don't overthink this. It's going to be okay.

#Henry has no clue #The Whole Bloody Time #Henry Knew sequel #The Aftermath #pawprints.on.the.moon #slytherinnbitch #first prince #rwrb #fanfic #henry pov fanfiction #ao3 update #read on ao3 #rwrb ao3 feed

12 notes · View notes

bre-meister · 4 years ago

Note

9 &/or 10 (Dialogue Prompts) for cleon !! TY FOR FEEDING US

9. “I just wish things could have turned out differently between us, you know?”

Mall trips were always...interesting. Perhaps it stems from the insanity that was his everyday life, but Leon always felt that doing things so mundane like going to the mall was kind of weird? But, weird in a good way. He wasn’t sure exactly how to describe it. D.S.O Agent Leon Kennedy wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about it as he stood surrounded by little tiny onesies and itty bitty tutus and headbands; cribs, strollers, changing tables, and more displayed on top of the shelves reaching up towards the high ceilings of the store. Well, that’s a lie, Leon did know how he felt - awkward, out of place even.

He wasn’t exactly sure why that was the case, especially considering this wasn’t his first rodeo so to speak. Though, last time Claire had done most of the shopping for the smaller things. His preparatory skills were mostly limited to ordering the bigger things online once Claire had picked them out and then assembling them after they had arrived.

When his wife had asked him to come along this time - mainly to help wrangle little Izzy who had insisted on helping pick out clothes for her new little sister - Leon couldn’t say no. He had nothing else to do on an unnaturally normal Saturday and spending the day with his family sounded like heaven after spending the week doing paperwork. He just hadn’t anticipated the sheer amount of things they actually needed to get. Technically speaking, they should have all of the said items at home from when Isabelle had been little - and they did have some. Some of her baby things had been lost in a move a while back - a two-bedroom apartment in the heart of D.C was great for him and Claire but not necessarily for a little girl. The couple had also given away some things to one of Claire’s co-workers who had needed some baby clothes and such. They truly had not expected to have another child, what with their hectic lifestyle but Leon would be lying if he said he wasn’t extremely excited for the new baby.

So, things having been lost one way or another, they had to replace almost everything; which was fine considering Leon’s paycheck alone was enough for them to live fairly comfortably. Chris was always making snide comments about his “government money”, he might as well put it to good use. Which is how the small family found themselves in the non-descript baby store on an even less notable Saturday afternoon. But, despite coming in with two girls, Leon now found himself alone hence the unnecessarily awkward feelings. Claire and Isabell had stepped out for a short moment to find a bathroom, his pregnant wife needing to go nearly just as bad as their four-year-old.

“Leon?” a voice called from the doorway of the store that leads out to the mall.

Leon looked up confused, that was the direction that his wife and daughter had disappeared to but that voice sounded nothing like Claire’s. Upon laying eyes on the source of the noise Leon felt his confusion shift to something else.

He hadn’t thought he could feel more awkward but somehow, he managed. Calling his name was a living ghost. Leon didn’t have much time to consider that oxymoron before the blast from his past in the form of an objectively beautiful woman entered the store and made her way towards him.

“Oh my gosh! It is you - Leon Kennedy. What’s it been, like five, six years?”

“Yeah,” Leon swallowed awkwardly, “something like that.” If he remembered correctly, it had been much longer than that.

As if coming to his senses, Leon suddenly realized how rude he was being - a former fling or not, Claire would have scolded him if she saw the way he was behaving now. He chuckled awkwardly to cover up how...awkward he was feeling. Quietly, Leon wished he could think of a word or a feeling that was not “awkward”.

“How have you been, Cindy?” He hoped she didn’t catch the upward lit of his greeting when he got to her name - he wasn’t exactly sure he’d remembered correctly.

“Oh ya know, working, shopping,” she gestured to the bags in her hands, “this and that. I’m good though, how about you?” If she noticed his hesitance at her name she didn’t let it outwardly bother her.

Leon looked around before answering, trying to see if he could spot Claire anywhere - no luck. Apparently, at this moment, Leon was two things: awkward and incredibly unlucky.

“Ya know, work, family, shopping,” he mirrored Cindy both in his statement and bodily actions. Motioning to the pack of baby bottles in his hands that he had been mulling over he hoped that Cindy would take the hint - Leon purposefully having emphasized the word family.

Yet again, if Cindy noticed she didn’t let it deter her. She placed a well-manicured hand on Leon’s bicep, gently squeezing all the while batting her eyes in what he assumed was supposed to be a sultry manner. Not many things could be taken as sultry when surrounded by pacifiers and burping cloths.

“I was genuinely surprised when I saw you, and in a baby store of all places. Never would have thought of you as the settling down kinda man. Then, I thought that you were probably just shopping for a friend or a family member, ya know like a shower gift or something. I also thought you’d might want some help, ya know, a woman’s touch. So, here I am”

At that the hand on his arm began to move up and down, those red-colored nails causing involuntary goosebumps to rise on his skin. Apparently, Cindy had been doing a lot of thinking in the last few minutes. Doing some thinking on his own, Leon came to the realization that he’d used to think he loved the color red on a woman. Now, he realizes that he loves the color red on one particular woman.

Before he could get a word in to stop whatever was happening in its tracks, Cindy started up again. Her attention had shifted to the things on the self in front of him, finally removing her hand from his arm. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t done with her not so subtle come on though.

“Sometimes I just wish things could have turned out differently between us ya know? Maybe this could have been us together, shopping for our own baby,” Cindy let out a small laugh at her own imagined scenario.

“I don’t.” He said confidently, happy that the awkward had finally made his way out of his system.

Apparently so had the unluckiness because as Cindy looked up at him, a confused frown on her face, any response she was about to formulate was cut short by a tiny body barreling into Leon’s legs.

“Daddy, Mommy and I saw the coolest candy store and she said that if I’m a good girl then we can go after we're done here! Are we done yet?” Isabelle let out, seemingly in one breath.

Leon laughed, both at his daughter's enthusiasm to curb her sweet tooth and at the look on Cindy’s face. He knew it was rude but the genuine shock was just too good to let slip and she was too wrapped up in said shock to notice.

“No baby girl, we are not done yet. Although trust me, I would much rather be in the candy store,” She looked to Leon as she approached, her next words directed towards him, “their chocolate display was pretty impressive.”

Leon wanted to laugh at his two girls. Instead, he coughed a little, nodding his head discreetly towards Cindy - an action he knew only his wife would notice.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. How rude of me, I'm Claire and you are?”

Cindy had managed to pick up her jaw from where it had fallen on the floor but still seemed to be too stunned to speak.

“Claire, this is Cindy, an old friend of mine. We haven’t seen each other in a while so when she spotted me from the window outside she came in to say hi. Cindy, this is my wife, Claire, and my daughter, Isabelle.”

Isabelle waved shyly from where she had retreated behind her daddy’s leg. Leon felt that was a little odd considering usually Izzy was a boisterous little girl who loved to talk - even to strangers. Perhaps she was tired, or maybe Cindy just rubbed her the wrong way - he’d heard kids were perceptive like that. It certainly didn’t help that Cindy’s face had been akin to a fish what with all the open-mouthed gaping when both girls had returned.

“It's wonderful to meet you, Claire.” the tone of her voice said that this meeting was anything but wonderful.

Still, Cindy held out her hand and the two politely shook. Leon couldn’t help but notice Cindy’s gaze falling on Claire’s hand returning to her noticeable bump as they pulled away. What was left of the color in her face drained and at that moment, Leon could tell that the woman made a tactical decision to save whatever was left of her dignity.

“Well, I just came in to say hi. Leon looked a little lost on his own but now that I see he is not alone I suppose I should continue on my way. I still have a few stores to hit before I can go home. Congrats, by the way.” Cindy motioned towards Claire’s midsection at her baby bump.

“Thanks,” Leon said, in unison with his wife.

Cindy turned to leave, giving one more awkward smile before she left - funny how the tables had turned in that way. Leon almost felt bad for her. It was obvious by her comment that she was still searching for the peaceful family life that he was forever grateful he’d found with Claire.

I just wish things could have turned out differently between us ya know?

That one statement carried so much weight. Leon knew that eventually, Cindy would find the one who was right for her, and together they could shop baby necessities until her heart's content. But, as for him, looking at his two girls fawn over pink and purple onesies meant for his soon-to-be girl number three, he couldn’t say he agreed. This is where he was meant to be - with them.

He knew he’d do anything for them, follow them anywhere. Even, he thought, overpriced, extravagant, mall candy stores. Although he had to admit, Claire wasn’t wrong about the chocolate display, it was pretty impressive.

#Cleon fic #Cleon #CLEON BABY #Leon Kennedy #Claire Redfield #Claire/Leon #resident evil #My writing

44 notes · View notes

spicykoreantatertots · 4 years ago

Text

Spine Breaker

Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader

Word Count: 959

Rating: PG

Genres: SFW, College AU

Summary: You have to team up with dance student Jimin on your art project.

Warnings: Taehyung says mean things about Jimin bc he doesn’t know him. :(

A/N: This is part of my new drabble series that I’m doing for ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo! 24 drabbles in 12 days so I can get that blackout before the deadline. See my challenge post here and the master list here! Message or send an ask to be on the taglist!

This has not been beta read, please be kind. 💜

~~~~~~~

Today is the most excited you’ve been to go to class all semester. As a freshman in art school, you aren’t actually creating as much art as you thought you would be. There’s so much history and theory to learn before they even hand you a set of paints.

The only class that actually lets you create, Drawing 1, is starting a new unit today. Moving on from Still Life to The Human Body. It’s not easy to capture the curves and lines and life of a human body, but that’s why you love it. It’s a challenge.

“I heard they’re pairing us up with students from the Dance Program for the unit project.” Taehyung, the boy who usually sits next to you, sits down and leans over to continue talking. “Do you have any friends in dance?”

“No... why?” Students continue filing into the class, chattering about the upcoming project.

“I heard we get to choose our partners. I’ve got a friend, Hoseok. He’s an amazing dancer and he’ll be fun to work with.” Taehyung is already doodling vague human-like shapes on his notebook.

“I don’t know anyone in dance.” Taehyung waves you off, everything will be fine. Surely not every art student has friends in dance. Right?

Wrong. After a brief introduction of the Human Body unit, the professor ushers in the dance students. You eye the line of students at the front of the room, trying to find someone who looks friendly. You see a few familiar faces from around campus, but most people seem to be avoiding eye contact.

When the professor allows everyone to pick their partners, the room becomes chaotic. Everyone makes their way quickly to their friends. Unfortunately most students immediately match up and before you can even catch your breath, you are face to face with the last dance student.

He is the most stunning man you’ve ever seen. His body is lean, muscles visible under his form fitting clothes. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of designer sunglasses that are probably worth more than your entire wardrobe. His face somehow has a sharp jawline and beautiful full cheeks. And his lips...

“I’m Park Jimin.” He says, handing you a slip of paper with his name and phone number. “Text me to set up a time to work on the project. I spend most of my time in practice room 13, so we’ll probably meet there.”

“I, uh, okay.” You were about to introduce yourself too, but he’s already walking away. Taehyung approaches you once Jimin is gone. He pats your shoulder, comforting you.

“Park Jimin, huh? Good luck with that...” He trails off.

“What do you mean by that? Do you know him?” You question as you make your way back to your seat.

“No, but I’ve heard he’s a brat. Did you see his outfit? He’s rude and entitled and I’ve also heard his poor parents work two jobs each to pay for his school and yet still he spends his money on designer clothes.” Taehyung explains. You turn the slip of paper Jimin gave over in your hands. He can’t really be that bad, can he?

You: Hey, this is Y/N, I’m your partner for the art project. [1:57pm]

You: I’m fine with meeting you in your practice room, but what time and day is good? [4:31pm]

You: Hello... [8:32pm]

Jimin: I was practicing, sorry. If you’re free tomorrow stop by anytime between 2pm and 11pm. [9:02pm]

You: Okay, I’ll stop by after class. Around 4? [9:05pm]

There’s no response after that. Are you really supposed to believe he was practicing for seven hours without checking his phone. Maybe Taehyung was right about him after all.

Standing in front of practice room 13 in the dance building, you’re feeling a weird mix of nervous and annoyed. Jimin seemed very disinterested in this project. All he has to do is hold a pose and let you draw, but apparently that’s asking a lot.

You take a deep breath and knock on the door. After waiting about thirty seconds, you knock again a little louder. Then the door opens quickly and Jimin pokes his head out. He’s sweating.

“Oh. It’s you. Come in.” He opens the door and steps aside so you can enter. Jimin is wearing some sweats, still looking like a greek god. His face is clear of sunglasses, so you get a chance to see his eyes. Much like the rest of him, they are beautiful. And surprisingly kind.

He walks over to his bag and jacket in the corner near the stereo system. He grabs a water bottle and wipes the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. You find a spot near the door to sit down.

“Do you have any poses in mind?” You question him as you get your sketch pad and pencils out. When you look up, Jimin is watching you carefully.

“Why don’t you watch me dance and then we can discuss.” Before you can respond, he cues up a pop song and moves to the center of the room.

He begins by moving his arms slowly, delicately. But as the music builds, his dancing becomes more intense, using his whole body, hitting each beat with precise movements. He twists, spins, jumps, and pushes his body to the extreme. The passion in his eyes makes you second guess everything negative you’ve heard about him.

The song ends, Jimin is breathing heavily.

“Did you find any inspiration?” He’s wearing a smirk across his face and you notice that your mouth is hanging open, you’re amazed and it shows. Working on this project is going to be even more challenging than you thought.

~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for part two! (Filter 😉)

~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Check out my masterlist here and the series masterlist here. I’m always looking for betas and friends so send me a message! :)

#ficswithluv #fwlbingo #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin fan fic #jimin fan fiction #dancer!jimin #bts #bts fan fiction #bts fan fic

48 notes · View notes

nachohypno · 5 years ago

Text

Nate and Dave Ch. 1

Everything started like a normal day. But you probably already heard those lines.

When I woke up, it was raining outside. But that wasn’t going to stop me from going to class. I just had to reach the bus quickly enough.

I went to the bathroom and looked at myself at the mirror after washing my face. “Looking handsome” I said to myself. I tried to tidy my short black hair. I did the rest of the usual morning routine before heading out of the bathroom.

As I said, it was a normal day, like any other. I went to school in the bus, barely got wet by the rain so I was happy.

I quickly entered school and walked to my locker. I didn’t get wet! Maybe this day wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought!

I greeted a few of my friends as I passed by, but I won’t go into details with them. They were cool, but they aren’t as involved in this story as I would have liked.

I’ll get to them later.

My mind went from happiness to fear in just a few seconds, when I reached my locker.

I noticed a few of the football players passing beside me, but I hid using my locker. Close one, they probably didn’t notice me.

Spoke too soon.

I got approached by one of the guys that just passed by. One of the jocks.

“Do I know ya?” He asked, like it was the most normal thing to ask. Although, he seemed pretty confused. I had to be careful with my answer, it could either get me a punch on the gut or a safe escape.

“I don’t think so?” I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never been approached by one of them in a “friendly” way. He stared at me. It was a bit weird.

‘Why is he talking to me?’ Was one of the questions that came through my mind at the moment.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his staring contest and extended his hand for a shake. “Dave, nice to meet ya”

We shook hands. And he squeezed my hand a lot, I was surprised he didn’t actually break it because it hurted a lot. He mumbled a sorry after noticing my expression of pain.

Okay, that’s something weird. I was expecting one of the jocks going out of their way to harm me in some way, but not to apologize about it.

“It’s… alright. I’m Nate” I mumbled, obviously nervous.

He gave me a big smile, like trying to comfort me. I was pretty scared at this point. Everyone knew these guys were kinda shady.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen you at my biology class, right?” He said, still smiling. I nodded, and apparently that caused his smile to get bigger “Awesome, let’s sit together, bro!”

Oh, he wants me to do his homework. That explains it. Alright, I can do that.

I mean, if it’s that or being beat up, I prefer doing some extra homework.

Survival of the smartest.

I went inside the biology lab. Sat on my usual spot, not too far but not too close to the blackboard either. The perfect distance to avoid being called to the front by the professor.

My partner usually rotated. Not that I’m not a good classmate, but they usually have a better deal or something like that. And today, my partner was Dave the jock.

The guy took off his letterman jacket and hanged it from the back of the chair, then sat down beside me. He gave me another big smile as he stared at me while I prepared my stuff on the table.

“What?” I asked when he started to make me nervous with the whole staring act. I can’t remember when we started being classmates. I barely pay attention to the jocks. It’s like, seeing a letterman jacket means trouble for me. So I try to hide ASAP.

That’s being gay in here for ya.

“What what?” He chuckled. What was so funny?

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I don’t know. I just want to, is there a problem with that?” He said, quite roughly. The smile he had until now vanished, replaced by an expression of superiority.

I took a step back, a bit scared by his change of attitude. He noticed this, and quickly returned to his friendly attitude. “Uhm, sorry. Didn’t mean to sound rude”

He shrugged, again with a big smile. He seemed happy, probably planning something? I decided to stop pushing the subject, to not make him angry.

As soon as the professor entered, everyone shifted their looks to him. He greeted us, and started explaining today’s subject. As I said, like a normal day. I just had to wait until the man gave us a few quiz questions, answer mine and give the answers to Dave, then I would be free of punches.

As expected, professor Lewis gave us some questions and asked us to draw a dick- Sorry, the male reproductive system. I’m a senior, way past the point of finding this things funny. I noticed Dave was chuckling, and a few of his fellow jocks on the back also did.

I grabbed my book from the bag, opened it on the designated page and placed it on the middle of the table.

Dave just took out a sheet of paper, a pencil and a rubber. Greaaaat, he wanted to help.

Speaking about him, he went back to staring at me without rest. It started to get on my nerves again.

So, if he wanted me to make his homework, he could help a bit. “Alright, I’ll do the quiz. Meanwhile, you draw the male reproductive system-”

“Sure!” He beamed up, grabbed his pencil and started to copy it from the book. Weird, why was he so happy to draw a reproductive system? Probably the same reason he was chuckling earlier. Jocks don’t think a lot, I guess.

I started doing my work too. I wanted good and complete answers, but not more than necessary. This professor is a dick and would probably not give me a fair grade if I tried to outsmart him.

By the end of the class, Dave gave me his drawing and I wrote down our names. I wrote down his name next to mine on the answers sheet. He was laughing a bit, for some reason. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You seem kinda serious, bro. It’s cool, suits you”

“What do you mean?”

He smiled, but frowned a bit “I… Sorry, can’t tell” Weirdo, but alright. I got freed of the jock and class was over. I started to put my stuff back in my bag and got up.

“Heading to the cafeteria?” Asked my apparently new friend, since he didn’t seem able to leave my ass today. “We could have lunch together if you want”

“Uh… What?” I looked at him and noticed he was staring with lovely eyes. Oh, I get it now. He’s horny and wants a blowjob from the local fag.

Not my department though. I would never do that. I prefer being beaten up than allegedly raped at school. He’s older than me, I’ve heard that last week was his 18th birthday. I could try and get him expelled if he tried to touch me at all.

It’s not every day that you can have lunch with the jocks. I didn’t want to, but Dave already grabbed me by the shoulder and started talking very excitedly. And I mean it.

He asked about weird stuff about me. Favorite color, song, food, stuff like that. I assumed now that he just wanted to be friendly. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

I thought about that to try and comfort myself, because I was freaking out about having this random guy follow me around like some kind of puppy.

I heard about him. Everyone knew about the local football stars. This guy is the quarterback of our team, the Rottweilers.

He has a hot girlfriend, one of the cheerleaders if I recall correctly. He has the good looks, with blue eyes, short light brown hair, a handsome face. He seemed to be mischievously smiling at all times.

I knew he arrived at this year, transferred from another school and luckily, we barely interacted. He never tried to do anything to me which is a relief.

I’ve had some… encounters with the other jocks, and I was thankful that I’ve never returned to my house with a black eye.

We arrived to the cafeteria and he still wasn’t going to shut up, or let me go. I usually had my food at the school’s yard. Way more relaxing and nicer than the awfully crowded cafeteria.

Don’t think of me as that weird loner guy, a lot of people also preferred to have lunch on the school’s yard.

But, awful rain outside. I would probably catch a cold or something, so I didn’t have an option.

“Alrighttt” I said. Taking his hand out of my shoulder and moving to face him. “Look, I appreciate you wanting to hang out with me but…” I looked over at the football team’s table. “I really, really don’t want to go there”

He seemed a bit disappointed, but it quickly vanished as his usual smile returned “Sure, we can sit anywhere else, bro. Wherever you’re comfortable is fine”

I think he didn’t get the message, but still, it was better than nothing. We went to grab a food plate. I loved school’s pasta day.

I went to get a plate of pasta and sat in a random table. Dave sat right next to me.

This thing was getting unnerving. I had a theory though. Dave lost a bet and had to be around the weirdo all day, waiting for me to put my guard down. Well, my friend, not going to happen.

But sadly, he stuck around to me all day as I predicted. The rain already stopped, and I decided to head to the school yard to have some air before my next class.

-----

After a while, I stopped right on my tracks and turned to him “Alright, what do you want? Why are you following me around since this morning? Did you lose a bet or something?” I was trying to keep myself quiet though. I didn’t want to start a scene mid-schoolyard.

Dave got nervous. “Uh… Uhm… ‘Cuz… I’m…” He looked around frantically, beads of sweat started forming on his forehead. Maybe he couldn’t talk about it in public? Something felt wrong about this.

“Follow me” I said. He did as I told, with a sigh of relief. Like he just got saved from the worst thing happening.

We entered the library. I knew Mrs. Wells would be on her break, so I went to a silent spot, looked around to see if anyone was near and told him “Nobody here, spill the beans”

I shouldn’t play the bad cop. What if this was a trick to take me to an empty place and beat me up there? There’s always the possibility, so I was careful and prepared to run away.

He gulped and started, looking at me like he didn't have any other choice. “This may sound crazy but… I’m a werewolf”

Yeah, he was tricking me.

I turned around and started walking away, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and looked at me with pleading eyes. “Believe me bro, I’m not joking”

I sighed and got back in place. Not because I wanted to, but because he was stronger than me and I couldn’t walk away. I decided to keep going with this charade “If you were telling me the truth, can you prove it?”

He snorted “Pfft. Easy bro. Order me to do anything” His trademarked smile returned to his face.

“Pull down your pants” It was the first thing that came to mind, and he didn’t even hesitate.

He did so remaining with his big smile, as if he was happy to do such a stupid thing. “Oh god, pull them back up!” What if someone saw us?

Bah, who am I kidding? Nobody visits the school library willingly nowadays.

“How is that supposed to prove anything? I was joking!”

But he didn’t seem embarrassed, nor mad. He just laughed at what I said “That proves it, bro! I’m a werewolf and you’re my soulmate!”

I looked at him, startled. He has a girlfriend and came up to tell me that I, a guy who never talked to him, was his soulmate. And I’m the queen of England.

But, he kept explaining. “Let me tell ya. Werewolves, and many other supernatural creatures, are real. I’m one of them, and… This may be even weirder bro.”

He gulped “I still barely understand it. I thought it was a joke at first, but I’m realizing it wasn’t bro” He looked around again.

I did the same, nervously. I placed my face in my hands and just… tried to deal with it. Dave noticed my silence and continued with his explanation.

“Werewolves can recognize their soulmate by their smell. Apparently, it can happen after you reach adulthood” Made sense, if his birthday was a few days ago. I should ask around later to corroborate. “And when you find your soulmate, you’re… bound to them. In mind and body. I just want to be with ya bro, and do what you want. The thought of it makes me feel good, and happy”

Of course, I was speechless. It was a lot of information to process. One of the star players of my high school was saying I’m his soulmate, and that he wants to do whatever I want.

“A-are you r-really sure you’re not joking? This is a r-really big deal” I stutter when I’m nervous. And this was much more than I could handle at a normal morning.

“Look, it’s weird. But since this morning, every second I’ve been around you were the most beautiful moments of my life” He stared straight into my eyes “I love you, bro. And I’m not lying.”

I tried to calm myself down, I turned around and looked at the wall. If I kept looking at the jock I would probably panic.

“So… soulmates?” I asked, hopefully he would explain things further.

“Yeah bro. We’re bonded apparently. I won’t complain, I’m happy to have found you!” Now that I think of it, Dave being a werewolf would explain a few things. Like his smiling and laughing all day, following me around all day like some kind of domestic dog. And his outstanding school’s spirit.

“And… is there any limit to what you would do?” I wanted to make sure. Just curiosity.

He shook his head in denial. “Anything you want. No limits, bro”

I thought about something. I was excited. If everything turned out to be true, I just got myself an obedient werewolf jock. And the idea was like an instant turn on. “Kiss me”

He didn’t waste any second, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a make out session. My first kiss, with one of the football players. Who would have thought about it?

His tongue was surprisingly gentle when he entered, and his taste was unique so to say. But, for some reason, I couldn’t get enough of it. I could feel myself getting turned on as we kept going. He pulled me in closer to him and I felt something in his pants starting to grow.

I broke the kiss after some minutes, it would have been weird if someone saw us.

“Uhm… How was that? Never kissed a guy before” He asked, pretty excitedly.

“I-I don’t k-know… you were my first”

His smile grew bigger and he gave me a big bear hug. “I love you, bro” Oh, he was pretty romantic, huh.

-----

I decided to leave the library before Mrs. Wells returned from his break. Dave followed me like a happy puppy.

We went back to school and kept chatting about the soulmates subject, but not as loud as we did on the library. More like whispers between us.

“So when you said ‘no limits’, you really meant it? Like, really no limits?” I asked him.

“I would rip my heart off for you, if you want that” He put his hand over his chest, and tried to imitate a poet’s voice while closing his eyes.

“No! I would never ask you to do that, or to harm yourself! What kind of psychopath do you think I am?” I got a bit scared at what he said, thinking that I should be careful with my words, but his smile didn’t vanish. He laughed a bit and stared at me again.

“You look cute when you’re nervous” And now he’s flirty.

I sighed “Are you alright with flirting with me at school? I mean, don’t you have a girlfriend-”

“Gonna break up with her” He said, pretty fast.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious, bro? I’ve found my soulmate!” He was really excited about this whole ordeal.

I wondered what his parents may think about their werewolf son being so happy for being completely controlled by a random guy from his class.

“Aren’t you nervous that you have to do everything I say?” Not like I asked for it but… I’m not complaining either. The guy is a stud.

“Nervous? Why would I be? I can’t wait to do as you say, bro”

“Alright, that’s it. I need a break” I walked to the nearest bathroom and he went in behind me. Nice. “Can you give me a few minutes? Uh… Wait for me outside”

He nodded blissfully and walked out.

I just washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror.

“Okay Nate, it’s cool. He’s a good guy, he just wants to make you happy. No need to be afraid of him, or anything like that. You’re the boss around here”

My little pep talk was working, but then…

The terror pair entered through the bathroom’s door.

Butch and Lucas, two players from the football team. I’ve crossed paths with them a few times, and they’re not the nice ones.

“Faggot!” Butch said, as he noticed me. They were bigger and stronger than me, so fighting would most likely be futile.

Unless…

As Lucas grabbed my hair and tried to drag me to the toilet stall, I yelled “DAVE!”.

My knight in shining armor heard my call. He busted through the door and pushed the pair away. I fell to the ground and he helped me up. “Are you hurt, bro? Let’s get outta here”

“What the fuck? You’re friends with faggot now?!” Asked Lucas, but Dave didn’t answer. We just walked out of the bathroom and I cleaned my face with a napkin.

I had a wicked thought at that moment. I could retaliate from all those years of putting my head in the toilet or being humiliated by these guys.

But that would be wrong. I’m better than them, and I would not use dave as a... weapon of revenge.

I remained silent during the rest of the day. It was all too much to handle. I just wanted for this shitty year to end.

Dave actively asked if I was alright or if I wanted anything. He also tried to cheer me up a bit, but to no avail.

I just felt bad.

-----

Classes were over and Dave insisted on taking me home in his car. I wanted to refuse, but he sounded very convincing.

Like, I would normally shrug him off, but he was one of the high school’s bullies and he still had some kind of power of intimidation over me, I guess.

“Are you alright, bro? Barely spoke after the bathroom thing” It’s weird. He’s trying to be a very cute and wholesome guy, but he mixes it with his… “normal” self and it brings me back to being wary of my answers.

“Yeah… Sorry, I’m alright” I said, trying to sound okay. I totally wasn’t, I was pissed. But it wasn’t his fault, so I didn’t want to involve him.

We arrived at my place and he had a sad puppy look on his face as I left the car. I didn’t have any intention of inviting him in.

I barely invited friends around (I’m not really a loner. I’m just an introvert, but as I mentioned before, I do have friends!)

“Well, call me if you need something. I love you… can’t wait to see you on Monday… Gonna count each second…” He said, dragging the words and trying to convince me with his blue puppy eyes.

Oh, for the love of god. Was he really going to be this persistent?

“Park the car and let’s go in” I said, sighing afterwards. I hope I wasn’t going to regret this choice.

“Really?! Thanks so much, bro!” He did as I told and went to my side.

We entered the house, I said out loud “I’m back mom! Brought a friend!” Dave smiled at that. I just waited for her answer to avoid being rude.

She answered with a “That’s so great, Nathan! Let me know if he stays for dinner!” that came from her bedroom. She was probably doing her daily yoga.

She would be busy for the evening, I think. Hopefully. I didn’t want her to notice the big guy and start asking questions.

I motioned Dave to follow me and we went to my room. Closed the door behind him and sat on my bed.

My house was your… normal suburban house, not too big, and not too small either. It was a nice place, a bit old, but I liked it.

“So… what do you want to do, bro?” The big guy sat on the floor, cross-legged. He was staring at me, smiling like an idiot.

I won’t lie, he’s hot as hell. And I’m all up for having a relationship with this… big wolf on campus?

I mean, I’m not so eager but… would it really be that bad? Jocks weren’t really my favorite type of person.

“Bark” I said. I wanted to test this thing out. He was apparently under my control and had to obey me. What could go wrong? He proved his loyalty after saving me from his teammates.

His eyes unfocused a bit as he gave a cute bark.

I extended my hand and said “Paw” then he put his hand on top of mine. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth at this point.

He was like possessed by a dog. And I’m sure that there’s a movie about that. And just when I thought about that, he started making that weird ‘purr’ dogs make when they feel good. Like a motor.

I moved closer to him and playfully scratched the back of his ears. “How does that feel?” I asked him.

“Hmm… Pretty good, bro…”

I smiled. Just like having a pet. A supernatural pet, yeah.

“Thanks for helping me today” I said, as I moved my hand to the back of his head. “I really appreciate it, kind of tired of those guys already”

He opened his eyes and looked at me “No problem. Nobody will ever hurt you again, bro. You have a soulmate now” He said with a wink, before going back to enjoying the scratching.

I stopped scratching and pulled him in for a kiss. I must admit, it feels good. I still wasn’t sure if this was a prank, but hell I was enjoying it.

He kissed me back, blissfully enjoying each second of it.

He seemed just as gentle as he was the first time, and I could feel his hot breath as we kept kissing. He was excited, I could tell.

-----

Chapter 2 is already available in my Patreon! And by pledging you also get access to other stories before they go public!

#Nate and Dave #straight to gay #mind control

88 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 5 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 88

Sophia, the day after her conversation with Tyche.

Thank you to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for keeping me going and on an even keel! Sorry the Author’s Note is so short... I didn’t realize until I had about 10 mins before I had to be back at work that I forgot to queue this for today *facepalm*

The next day was an entire education on new places I could be sore. A hot shower and analgesics only took the barest edge off, and I ended up needing a transport to get to my office instead of my routine walk. I did my best to ignore the grin on Conor’s face every time I moved too fast and winced. After the third time I scowled at him, I brought up my datapad and did some research, careful not to tap my legs as I gestured, which had become something of a habit.

“That snot,” I gasped. Conor glanced at me, so I clarified. “Tyche had me doing fencing footwork yesterday…. Intermediate footwork, it turns out. No wonder I’m so sore.”

“Least it wasn’t sparring,” he pointed out cheerfully, gently lifting my chin to get a look at my lip. “You should have let Noah heal that, love.”

I brushed my cheek against his hand. “I want the reminder. May even let her do it again once it heals.”

This time, it was his turn to scowl. “Not funny. That face has been bruised enough for one lifetime.” He gently rubbed my cheek as the transport stopped. “Okay, time to go be the boss. No fighting with the other kids.” Despite the joking tone, his eyes were serious as he leaned in to kiss me before he headed to his shift.

I realized that Alistair not only beat me to work, but could apparently hear me groaning as I tried to walk, because the door opened before I was even within three feet of it. True to form, he gave me an appraising look before his expression settled on my face. “Door get a bit mouthy today? Or did your feet decide you needed to stay home?”

“Tyche punched me, actually.” My tone was light as I inched my way to my desk. “For defending myself. And then she decided I need more ways to defend myself, so now I can hardly move.”

“Solid logic,” he deadpanned as he handed me a cup of coffee. “I feel obliged to point out that the coffee is hot, seeing as you display a disturbing propensity to get hurt.”

“Very funny.”

“You have been warned, et cetera, so on, so forth.” He waved a hand nonchalantly as he turned, bringing up my agenda for the day. “Your first meeting is the one to discuss medical testing ethics, criteria for volunteers, and determination of the necessity of the procedures. Then you have time set aside to review the status of the Galactic Core Curriculum, along with proposals for expanded learning topics and their existing analogues in the education systems of other planets - “ He paused and tilted his head. “I will never cease to be caught off guard when sentences like that exist.”

I restrained the urge to nod - or more accurately, my back twinged with a warning not to even consider it. “Believe me, I understand. Noah and I were talking about other species a few weeks ago. Did you know there is a species of avians out there who essentially live on a planet with no surface atmosphere?”

“The Preeyar, yes,” he sighed wistfully. “Knowing that Fermi was simply impatient has been quite eye-opening, so to speak.”

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” I conceded. “We were too young for extraterrestrial civilizations, we weren’t listening properly, they apparently weren’t trying to contact us until recently… But they do exist.” A smile crept on my face at the idea that we really hadn’t been alone in the universe.

My office door opened without warning, and a familiar voice chimed in as Alistair turned with clenched fists. “I do argue that we are entirely too dangerous to have been contacted.” Arthur Farro stood leaning against the frame, and Alistair relaxed marginally. “At least we were until relatively recently…. Throwing nuclear ordinance at each other the moment killing each other in the thousands - rather than the millions - stopped scratching that vicious itch. Who does that? We’re like demented eight-year-olds who got bored of burning ants and started setting each other’s hair on fire instead.”

“You really should keep that door secured,” my assistant sniffed as he closed out my agenda, right around the time he caught Arthur squinting at it.

“He has the code,” I admitted.

“Or maybe that was accidental,” our resident history teacher continued, ignoring us. “I’m a big fan of assuming stupidity instead of malice where possible. And, dear lord, does our track record make it plausible.” Finally entering the room, he flicked a finger at my face. “That was not, however.”

Before I could stop him, Alistair took one glance between me and my friend, and strode to the door. “No.”

“Alistair…”

“I’ll clear your calendar. No. Have a good day.”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Arthur asked as the door closed behind my soon-to-be-ex assistant.

“That he’s a coward,” I muttered.

“You know damned well that’s not what I mean.”

“Tyche already decked me.” I gestured at my split lip and the bruise that bloomed on my chin overnight. “So, yeah, I know - “

“No, you really don’t seem to.”

“Arthur, stop.”

“I will not.” He stepped forward and placed both his hands, palms down, on my desk. He knew I hated that gesture. “Bjornson’s entire narrative hinges on you being more dangerous than anyone realizes, and you putting up a display of false helplessness to make everyone trust you. By decking one of his followers, not only did you show that you do, in fact, have violence in you - meaning that it’s now entirely plausible you’re as Machiavellian as they claim - but you’ve also gone and indicated for whatever reason that Jokull is enough of a threat to drop that premise.” Straightening, he crossed his arms in clear disappointment. “If you wanted to give him more credibility, good job. You succeeded.”

I swallowed every bit of hurt I felt at his words, reminding myself they were nowhere near as barbed as the ones Tyche had given me the day before. Instead, I tilted my head and arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you done? Did you say everything you needed to say?” I paused, giving him a chance to respond. When he didn’t, I poked harder. “Feel better?”

“Not particularly, but big picture? I’m not a terribly gleeful person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. But yes, it is your turn now.”

“Gracious of you,” I cooed sarcastically. “Tyche made the same points yesterday, after punching me in the face, with the added gravitas of a guilt trip served with that special seasoning of having watched me almost die and thinking I abandoned her as a child. Also three hours with a rapier, whipping my ass. So. Far more impressive, I assure you.”

“Foiled again by the smaller Reid,” he sighed dramatically before catching himself. “Rapier, you say? I was going to say no pun intended, but I’ve decided I did that on purpose. Yep. Totally intentional.”

I rolled my eyes before pulling up my tunic to show the bruises on my midriff. “I’m not very good at it, for the record.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, saber’s a better style anyway. And I’m not just saying that because it’s my favorite.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, not entirely convinced. “As far as Bjornson… seriously. She gave me the scoop. I seriously fubared the entire situation yesterday. Apparently, our suspected cult leader only believes in physical attacks on those who would defend themselves. No honor in beating a beaten foe, et cetera.”

“Mmm hmmm,” he nodded, like I was a student he was letting reach her own conclusion.

“Which means I just made it open season on Sophias,” I groaned.

“Really, saber is much better for brawling tactics,” he hedged.

I laughed bitterly. “Doesn’t matter. My walking privileges are revoked until further notice. Must be accompanied by one of six people, or two out of another ten, and on a transport.” The last word came out like a profanity. It was a known fact I hated using them.

Hence why I was now being forced to, unfortunately.

“If you think there is any possibility that I’m going to argue against Tyche on that decision, I need to talk to her about that head scan,” he told me pointedly. “Then again, you and I have different definitions of the word ‘think’, but I’ll be clear - it’s not happening. Moving target, faster than a walking pace, with a protective attachment? Which roster am I on, again?”

“Very funny. You already know.”

His expression softened slightly when he realized I was actually upset. “There is some good news in all of this.”

I threw up my hands and spun in my chair. “Oh, do tell, great military historian and warlord. What is the shining silver lining to the fact that I just gave a man who thinks I am the only thing standing between him and his New Start a golden ticket to sic his followers on me?”

“Okay, first off, sassy shit, my main career is a school teacher. I only moonlighted as a warlord to pay those apocalypse bills. Not my fault I was good at it.” Suddenly, he got serious. “The good new is, if he was too stupid to realize that your talent for inspiring loyalty meant you were a massive problem for any takeover plan, and a problem he’d have to deal with sooner or later….. Well, he’s probably too stupid to keep his little cult together much longer. Leaders who don’t recognize more than one kind of strength never manage to build a lasting legacy.”

“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair…” I said, half to myself.

“Yeah, our guy is no Ramses II,” Arthur replied. “Besides, those who seek power are rarely good at keeping it.”

“I would have given him my seat on the Council if he’d just asked,” I admitted.

“Besides the fact that you literally just proved my point, if he was suited to the Council, he’d be on it. It’s not like you were the only candidate.”

I shrugged. “No idea. I didn’t even know I was on the Council for the first week. I think it was a week.”

When I turned to look at him, I was met with a flat stare. “I know it was explained to you at some point. How does that search function work?” He reached forward like he was going to tap my head before I swatted his hand away. “You were appointed to the Council to replace Simon, you represent a specific population on board the Ark, when we arrive at Von, you will serve an additional two planetary standard years before elections are held, of which you cannot be a candidate….”

Ugh. “I was put forward as a recommendation by Simon. The other Councillors put forward their candidates. The population I represent voted based on my personnel file, since no one even knew any of the candidates at that point. We’d only been on the Ark about six months. Some of us, anyway.” Glaring, I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a feeling I’m going to kill someone.”

He waved a hand at me in a very familiar gesture. “I see other people do it all the time. Jog your memory, and some phrase or word triggers it. Cool to watch, though.” With a shrug, he continued. “Point is, Bjornson wasn’t even a candidate, same as me.”

“How do you know that?” I asked incredulously.

“Fuck, Sophia. You really need to keep track of your constituents.”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be a - Wait. You are one of my so-called ‘constituents’!?”

“Even voted for you,” he grinned. “Didn’t know it was you-you, but… Communications background, peaceful but intelligent attributes to balance out our resident warhawk, fair enough to offset Huynh, and you seemed like the type to actually listen to Grey, Pranav, and Eino.” He shrugged. “To be fair, I was right.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #aliens #apocalypse #science fiction #original fiction #my writing #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs

64 notes · View notes

bexterbex · 5 years ago

Text

Masking the Heart | Ch. 5

A new galactic war was forming, and your star system needed to create an alliance. Your father, the king, made a deal with the First Order in a promise of protection for guaranteed trade. You are arranged to marry the Commander Kylo Ren, apprentice of the Supreme Leader. A man who is hidden behind his mask. Will your husband show you his heart? Or will it be forever hidden behind a mask?

No tag lists | Masterlist

*Note: The author of this work does not condone arranged marriage practices, domestic abuse, or non-con sexual encounters, this work is for fictional uses only.*

Chapter 5

The next few days were all the same, you got up, got dressed, made yourself breakfast, watched a few First Order videos, made yourself lunch, baked something, made something for you and Kylo for dinner. Or at least you were assuming that he was eating it. Each night you would leave a plate on the counter, he would insist on sex in your room, he would leave, the plate would be gone and in the morning you would find a dirty plate in the sink. You had yet to ask him if he was enjoying your cooking, but you didn’t want to scare him off, things were going well. Or as well as they could be.

You were in the middle of your usual routine when you received a message, only this time it wasn’t from your husband. It was from General Hux.

Princess Ren,

I hope the invitation for dinner is still open as I have availability in my schedule tonight. The Commander seems to also be free as well. If tonight is not available please let me know.

General Armitage Hux

Commanding Officer of the Finalizer and Star Killer Base

You stared at the message for a few moments, before responding.

General Hux,

I will need to ask the Commander first but I have no conflict in my schedule at the moment.

Princess Ren

Wife to the Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke and Master of the Knights of Ren

You weren’t even able to send a message to your husband asking for permission before the General responded.

Princess Ren,

I am currently with the Commander now and he has agreed to it. You shall see us both for dinner. I look forward to it.

General Armitage Hux

Commanding Officer of the Finalizer and Star Killer Base

Upon reading the message your brain went into panic mode, not knowing what to make. It took you a few minutes to calm down and to scroll through your recipes to find something that looked doable and that served four people. Recipes for three were difficult to find, let alone recipes for one. And you got to work immediately. Washing, chopping, dicing, preparing everything you would need. You were slightly worried as this was the first time in a long time that someone else would be eating your food in front of you. Would the General even like what you were preparing? Let alone would your husband? Would he not eat with you like he did when you met him before you married him? Would he keep his mask on the whole time? You chewed your lip as you were finishing up everything.

The chambers had a small dining table, enough to seat four people comfortably, nothing grand. You remembered back to etiquette and set the table accordingly, you might have been a princess, and that you should have servants making and serving your meals for you, but you would be damned if you were to look like a fool now. You wanted to impress not only the General but your husband, Kylo. You wanted to impress him so he accepted you as his wife less reluctantly. You were also desperate for human contact and conversation.

The meal was less than three minutes to being done when the doors to your chambers open. First entered your husband all clad in his usual black, and then the ginger-haired General in his uniform. They were both caught up in a conversation one that seemed to end the moment they noticed you.

Just like the last time the General was in your chambers he was the first to acknowledge your presence, “Good evening Princess. I hope this dinner wasn’t an inconvenience to you. The Commander seemed to infer that it was.” He gave you a small devious grin.

You panicked, you knew you weren’t supposed to go against your husband’s word. He apparently really didn’t quite approve of this dinner but somehow agreed, anyway. So your diplomatic training kicked in, “It is a pleasure to have you eat with us General.” You neither accepted nor denied that the dinner was an inconvenience. You reminded yourself of your mother in that moment whenever one of your father’s guests would stay too long and had to join you for dinner.

You watched as the General’s eyebrows lifted for a moment. You wondered if he was considering your word choice, but before either of you could speak your husband abruptly sat down at the table. If it was anyone else, it would have felt rude, well it still did feel rude but your husband wasn’t known for his kindness.

You invited the General to sit down as you grabbed the warming food from the oven. You served all three of you up and even poured wine. It felt nice and would have been nice if your husband had actually decided to join you but he just sat there. Silent. And you tried to hold a conversation with the General but it was hard when eternal darkness was staring at you in the face.

When dinner was close to wrapping up the General cleared his throat, “I have a proposition for you, your highness. I know dinner may not be the best time to ask this, but seeing as I am already here I may as well ask.”

He was looking for your approval, ignoring your husband entirely as you saw his black mass hunch forward toward the General. But you took the General’s lead and ignored your husband. “Yes, what would you like to ask of me? I would be happy to help serve the First Order.”

You could see a twinkle of mischief in the General’s eye, he was going to ask you something your husband didn’t quite approve of; you knew it. “I believe you could be instrumental in helping the First Order in converting other planets to our cause. Your home star system is well-favored among the galaxy. Fair and honest trade is what you are known for. Of course with the Supreme Leader’s approval, I would like to make you a face of the First Order. This would involve being on posters and recording some speeches that would be broadcasted out. You could help the leery star systems think of us better, just by allowing us to use your image.”

Kylo slammed his fists on the table. “Go to your room.” You flinched in fear, but the General seemed to not react. You wondered how many outbursts he has witnessed from your husband.

But you did as you were told, with tears in your eyes you head to your room. You wanted to ask why he was doing this, why you were being sent away to be punished. What did you do wrong? You sat on your bed, trying desperately to control your emotions, your mask had cracked in front of both of them. You allowed them to see you cry. You broke the mantra ‘Royalty never wears their hearts on their sleeve.’ Why did you allow him to hurt you so? Why did his words get under your skin? Your heart felt heavy.

You could hear an argument outside your door, and then you heard the cutting of durasteel. You could smell the singeing, burning scent. You crawled up on your bed and wrapped your arms around your knees. All you could really think about was steadying your breath, in and out. You could feel the blood rush past your eardrums as you awaited your door to open. You knew he was going to come in here. There was no point in leaving you alone after his outburst. You were just afraid of the repercussions that you were about to face.

The cutting sounds stopped, as did the yelling. It was silent. Or rather you could hear the crushing sounds of impending doom. How could you protect yourself against the most powerful weapon in the galaxy? He technically didn’t need you alive anymore. Sure an heir from your lineage would be nice, but the moment he consummated your vows was the moment the title and position were sealed in his name. You were expendable.

You heard the door open before you lifted your head up to look. He was standing at the foot of the bed. His body imposing and menacing, breathing haggard, fists clenched, staring you down like a prey he had just cornered from across the galaxy. He didn’t lay a finger on you though, but your body was pulled forward violently to the edge of the bed. He was using the Force against you. You tried to struggle, but what could you really do? He was the strongest being in the galaxy, and you were basically a helpless, defenseless little girl. Instead of your skirt being pushed up like normal he tore the dress off of you, your bra came with it. The sound of ripping fabric burned in your mind like the cutting of durasteel.

But just as you were about to brace yourself for a slap, a hit, the yanking of your legs apart, the insertion of his dick there was a beeping sound coming from his pocket. You were both frozen; you were held down with the Force; he was seemingly frozen in the moment, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out the beeping comlink.

He pressed the activate button, and the booming voice filled the room. “Ren, I expect you in the transmission room at once.” It was Snoke.

You watched as he gripped the tiny device in his gloved hand, almost crushing it. He put it back in his pocket, stared at you before he left. You felt the weight of the Force leave you as you heard the doors to your chambers open and shut.

He abandoned you.

You were naked and terrified in your own bed. When would he come back? And if he did, did he expect you to still be naked and waiting for his return? Were you to be compliant with his forceful taking of your body?

You were frozen in the wake of fear of the unknown.

A million thoughts were racing around your mind. What did Snoke want? Did it have anything to do with you? With your approval of being used for the First Order? Or was this something else entirely?

After what seemed like forever you got the courage to at least crawl up to the head of your bed and tuck yourself under the covers. You were hoping he would be angry with you at least covering yourself up with blankets. You felt so exposed even in your own room. Tears failed to fall from your eyes, as you contemplated your future. You couldn’t even fall asleep as fear and adrenaline were still coursing through your veins.

You heard the whooshing sound of the outer chamber door open and boots hitting the ground. This time it was more than just one set as you tried to listen when your door opened. A young brunet male officer and two stormtroopers entered your room. You clutched the sheets to your chest, covering your naked body. The man looked shocked at your condition but spoke nonetheless, “I need you to come with me, Princess. The Supreme Leader would like to speak with you.”

Just like your husband, you couldn’t read the reactions from the stormtroopers through their armor and helmets, but the officer was clearly off-put by your nakedness.

“If you could allow me to change.” You wanted them to leave, to give you a shred of decency and respect.

You could see the pain in the young officer’s eyes as he regretfully told you, “Our orders are to bring you to him in your current condition.”

Your eyes widened in shock. So they were really going to humiliate you by parading you around the ship naked. You were a Princess, not a common whore, but that didn’t seem to matter.

You could see the officer seemed to agree with you. “May cover yourself with the sheets and blankets, I will have the hallways cleared, but you must not get dressed.”

You felt grateful, but why were you grateful for being allowed basic human decency? As you started to pull the sheets off the bed, you heard the officer tell the stormtroopers to turn around. They were allowing you to situate yourself modestly while still in their presence.

You wrapped the sheets tightly around you before telling them, “I am ready.” You tried to build up what little courage you had left to march down the hallways of the Finalizer to go speak to the Supreme Leader in your condition. But as the officer had said, the hallways were cleared for your excursion to the transmission room. It still felt odd, being naked under the sheets and being accompanied by an officer you didn’t know and two stormtroopers. In many ways, it didn’t feel like they were walking with you for your protection, but rather they were forcefully escorting you like a prisoner, all you were really lacking were the cuffs.

When you entered the large main room they did not escort you down to where your husband and the General stood they left you at the door. You could already see the large blueish-gray image of the Supreme Leader looming over them. You marched forward to your death.

I apologize for the lateness of this update. I do live in the state of Minnesota, and the unrest here has been affecting me heavily. I am doing my best for you all but bear with me.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x you #masking the heart #kylo x you #kylo x reader #star wars #star wars imagine #sw first order imagine #star wars first order

44 notes · View notes

fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

Text

1033. I don’t like the way they look at you.

This was prompted by the awesome @aurea-b and I... had fun XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

‘Is there anything else I can bring you, Sirs?’, Gavin politely asked, while he disguised his search of any hint or piece of evidence as gathering empty glasses. ‘Hmm, that fancy android over there, if you don’t mind.’ Gavin hadn’t expected that answer and followed the finger of the man before him over to the central pole of the club. Of course… ‘I’m afraid we are not that kind of club, Sir.’ ‘How about a private dance then, beautiful?’ He had grabbed Gavin by the hand he was reaching for a glass with. ‘Sir, touching is prohibited in this club’, Gavin pressed through his teeth, trying his hardest not to snap and let his fist find its way right into his face. Although he had to play the clueless waiter, he knew exactly who was sitting there right in front of him: One of Detroit’s worst human traffickers. Until now they had only gotten a name, Andrew Jones, and the last sign of life of an android dancer. A message left behind before he had been abducted, just like countless others in his line of work. All androids. Most of them from this club.

The club Nines and Gavin were currently working at as undercover agents. Being the only other android-human partners of the precinct when Anderson couldn’t have played the “sexy waiter” even if he had been ten years younger, really was unfortunate. Gavin wouldn’t have described himself as that either, but apparently the manager of the club had decided otherwise. Nines on the other hand had simply downloaded some Tracy-programs and used his own to hack the application process.

Thankfully Jones let him go, although it had only been after a few beats of prolonged contact, just to show that he could. Oh, how Gavin longed for a fight with this stick of a man, mission be damned. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Sir.’ ‘Yeah, go see.’ Gavin turned around and tried to remember who else had sat in that booth with the criminal. Who were they? Costumers? Partners? Just friends? Whoever they were they requested a private dance from Nines, who was just stepping down from the pole to retreat backstage. They had their eyes on him and although that was generally a good thing because the android could figure out a lot more things if he was that near to them, it also was the first step to being kidnapped. The android they had gotten the message from had been selected for a private dance with this man and was never found again.

His worry seemed to show as he ducked behind the counter to unload the empty glasses, because Julia, the bartender looked him up and down. ‘Something happened?’ Gavin couldn’t let Nines’ cover be blown, even if the woman was trustworthy. So he simply said: ‘Over at table twelve, the guy touched me. Just the wrist, no big deal, but…’ ‘But it’s disgusting. Yeah, I understand. Should I get someone else to fetch their drinks?’ ‘Nah, no need. He wants a private dance with one of the dancers though. The rooms free at the moment?’ ‘They should be. Do you know who he wants?’ ‘The new one. Android, tall, -‘ ‘Exactly your type?’ Gavin looked at the woman shocked, but she just laughed. ‘Hey, I have eyes and I see how you look at him when you walk past. Don’t worry about me, I have no problems with relationships between co-workers. Just keep it private.’ Gavin swallowed. ‘Err… yeah…’ ‘Here!’ She pulled a few bottles of water from under the counter. ‘Bring that backstage and tell him. Tell him to be careful, too. I know people are disappearing and the police, as always, does jack shit about it.’ Gavin grinded his teeth at that, but nodded and took the package. ‘Oh and Gavin? I noticed he looked at you too, so good luck!’

He slipped past the curtain into the relative privacy of the changing compartments. Not that there were a lot of clothes to wear, just a lot of different outfits for different shows. He was on the lookout for Nines, what wasn’t too difficult as he spotted the tall android right from the door. Gavin sat the water bottles down at the entrance and hurried over. ‘Hey, Nines, you are- Ugh, Goddamn, put some clothes on, will ya?’ ‘Gavin, you saw me naked enough times, this is childish.’ ‘Yeah, well, they haven’t!’ He gestured to the rest of the room that was still very open. ‘Actually…’ ‘Okay, stop, they want you for a private dance.’ ‘Who?’, the android asked as he pulled some pants on – not really covering more than underwear would have. ‘Idiot. Our suspects of course.’ Gavin watched as Nines put on several glowing rings around his wrists and slowly adding more and more jewellery until he nearly wore more than clothes. ‘Oh! Perfect. Then this case is finally going somewhere.’ ‘I don’t like the way they look at you’, Gavin grumbled, leaning against the dressing table while Nines applied make-up and tested out new patterns with his artificial skin. His performance always consisted of some kind of display how synthetic he was. Retracting his skin and letting it reappear to the music, playing with how much he let the costumers see. With that he had made it one of the top attractions in record time and Gavin had to admit it was quite entrancing.

‘Oh, Gav, darling. It could have been the light, but I sensed you looked at me the same way.’ Nines looked up to him and smiled and though it was still alien to see him with make-up, he had to admit the android was absolutely beautiful. ‘Yeah, well, I don’t plan to abduct you and sell you to the highest bidder!’ ‘Really? And here I thought romance was dead.’ Gavin threw him a warning look. ‘Oh, come on, Gavin. I’m the most advanced model there is. Fowler installed more trackers inside me than Cyberlife did. If I get abducted this will finally put an end to innocent people getting sold off. Really, in this example the worst case is the best-case scenario.’ ‘For the mission maybe. But for you? What if they find out we’re cops and decide to kill you?’ ‘Gav, you worry too much. If anything goes wrong, then I still have you looking out for me, haven’t I, love?’ He reached up to Gavin’s shoulders to pull him into a kiss, before standing up. ‘I’ll get ready for it; you can show them to room four. I’ll reset the bugs there.’ ‘Okay. Stay safe.’ ‘Will do.’

Gavin went back behind the bar to get the keys for the room, before stopping in front of Julia’s grinning face. ‘What is it?’ ‘Oh, nothing… Just that I was right, wasn’t it? Ah, you two go so well together! You definitely have to tell me more when your shift’s over! Now hurry! Back to work!’ On the way back to the booth, Gavin rubbed his mouth with his sleeve. Damn black lipstick…

‘Ah, our beautiful waiter is back! And, what about that private dance?’ Gavin couldn’t look the man in the eyes, as he jingled with the keys. ‘If the sirs would follow me to room four? Your dancer is waiting.’ Jones hurried to come to his feet, urging his partners to stand up too. Gavin waited until they were up to lead the way. He entered the room and as everyone was in, Nines appeared, walking overly seductively towards them. Gavin felt bile rising up seeing him cupping Jones’ cheek in fake affection. ‘Now, gentlemen, what can I do for you today?’, he cooed, and Gavin pulled the door closed.

He carried drinks and empty glasses back and forth and looked on his watch every few minutes. They had booked an hour, had paid wirelessly over Nines hooked up to the club’s systems. It was the longest hour in Gavin’s life and no matter how that would set back the mission, he hoped for Nines to just get out of there and their suspect leaving. The worst was not knowing. The bugs they had installed were record only. Transmissions to an outside source could have been detected. So, it was only ten minutes after their time had ended and no one had exited, that Gavin knew something was wrong. The thought appeared the same time Nines message came in. Gavin. Get a car. Something went wrong. Your phone is set to navigate you to me. We are driving.

Immediately, Gavin reacted. He let the empty glasses fall back onto the table and sprinted to the bar. ‘Julia, I need your car.’ ‘You what?’ Gavin ripped his badge from his pocket and shoved it in her face. ‘I. Need. Your. Car.’ ‘Holy shit you are from the police. Oh damn and I said-‘ ‘Forget what you said, there is an android getting abducted from your club right now. I need your phcking car. Right now!’ ‘Of course, but you should rather-‘ ‘No buts! Car! NOW!’

Julia nodded, fetched her jacket and ran to the parking lot after Gavin. He looked around for her car and froze, as she unlocked a 1975 vintage Fiat 500. ‘Ex-phcking-cuse me?’ ‘I told you you should have rather taken John’s car, he drives a-‘ ‘Doesn’t matter now. There’s no time. Go.’

‘Doesn’t this thing have a gas pedal of some sorts?’, Gavin shouted at her from the passenger seat. The damn car was tiny as phck and for once he was glad to be too tiny as phck. But right now, every emotion he felt was anger. Anger about how they crawled through Detroit’s streets tailing a black dodge challenger. Their only hope was the cities well known and well hated rush hour that they were stuck in just as bad as their target. ‘Hey, you are a cop!’ ‘Yeah, and that means my word is law! Now go over the damn speed limit!’ ‘Alright, pretty sure that doesn’t mean that, but as long as you pay my speeding tickets-‘ ‘I’ll phcking pay you anything as long as you find that gas pedal and press it through the damn floor!’ ‘Alright, alright!’ Gavin was pressed into the seat as Julia seemed to take his advice literally. And once they got speed she was willing to break every traffic rule there was: She changed into the oncoming traffic and slalomed her way through every traffic jam. ‘Don’t tell me this is top speed?’ ‘What do you think this is? I loved that car ever since I saw it and it is amazing if you want to find a spot to park! Now, will you stop complaining? What do you plan to do once we reach them?’ ‘If we reach them, that is! This damn toy can’t compete!’ ‘Okay. You insult my car? Now I prove to you speed isn’t everything!’

Gavin regretted his decision dearly. Because whatever the tiny car told about its owner… Julia seemed to be a rally driver. Cutting every turn perfectly and finding small parallel streets or even a park to race through, they managed to catch up.

Gavin. Are you… driving in a Fiat? ‘Are you wearing make-up?’, Gavin spat back although the android couldn’t hear him. Make room in the passenger side, I’m coming. Drive to the left… now! Gavin pushed Julia’s steering wheel to the side without a warning, trusting her to manage getting them back on track as the trunk of the car in front of them was ripped open and the hood clattering to the street before quickly disappearing. Gavin climbed into the back of the already crowded car, as Julia steered it expertly next to the trunk and pushed the door open. Nines managed to jump over and land more or less gracefully inside but had to huddle over his knees to fit. Gavin reached forwards handing Nines his gun that the android took with a surprisingly unphased: ‘Thanks, babe.’ As if getting abducted was fun. ‘Wait, you two are really…?’ Nines nodded, picking at his too tight, uncomfortable and sole piece of clothing. ‘We are. Now keep the car straight, please.’ He opened the window and leaned half his upper body outside, taking aim and shot. They watched, as his bullet hit the other car, piercing the tire and it spiralled out of control. ‘Hank and Connor are informed; backup is on the way. But we have to keep them here. Julia, if you would be so kind to park the car? Gav and I have some traffickers to arrest.’ The woman nodded and Nines was half out of the door, before he asked: ‘You wouldn’t have some additional clothes somewhere, would you?’ ‘Unfortunately not. But it suits you.’ ‘Hmm. That’s not really the point…’ Gavin groaned from the backseat as he himself wasn’t exactly presentable with his tight leather pants and deep V-necked shirt. ‘That will be enough joke-material for years to come…’

‘I would say, you look rather handsome’, Nines commented, now that they were outside walking side by side towards the other car. ‘Oh, phck off!’ ‘Come on, it was fun!’ ‘It was not!’ ‘Why? Are you jealous you didn’t get to have a “private dance” with me?’ Gavin was about to shout expletives at the android, before shaking his head. ‘You know what? Maybe I am!’ ‘Aw, Detective, no one said I would have to delete this programming after the mission is done.’ Well, that sounded… promising.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Sexy Nines and Car chases

62 notes · View notes

howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 5 years ago

Text

Be My Garden of Eden Ch.1

ConnorxFReader Pleasure Android AU

I finally decided to get a Tumblr and post more of my beta chapters here. Just a place to get some opinions or a wider gauge of how people feel about my writing.

I also take requests for ConnorxReader one-shots.

If you like what I post, I also have stories posted on AO3 under DisassembledDeviant. If you have read them, you know I don't mind venturing into the NSFW category... At all. ;)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: probably cursing and sexual implications

"Goddammit! You stupid piece of shit!" The wrench came down hard against the android's shoulder. "I should have just left your ass with the rest of the scrap!" Another blow, this time to his chest, warnings of the damage flashing on his HUD.

Connor couldn't help but agree.

His recollection of his life before working at Club Mimosa in the seedier side of town was minimal. A roof, A little girl, Falling... Then, nothing. Just a name. Connor.

The owner had found him in the scrapyard, looking for replacement parts or functional androids he could illegally fix up for his club. While much of his body was destroyed, the owner re-built him. His unique look was sure to capture new clients, and he was right. Connor started as a popular model. Both males and females would pay for a session with the doe-eyed android.

However, no matter what he was 'equipped' with, it was apparent he was not programmed to please humans sexually. His movements were stiff, his reactions lackluster. Most demanded a refund, as his last client did. The owner was getting fed up, and the beatings were getting worse. Before the owner could take another swing, one of the employees entered the workshop.

"Hey, boss, someone is requesting Connor for delivery."

"Fuck!" The owner sneered, "tell them it will be on its way in a minute!" He turned to Connor, tossing the wrench on the metal table behind him, attempting to be intimidating. Connor didn't even give him the satisfaction of imitating fear, simply watching the middle-aged man turn redder by the second. "Fix yourself up, then go to the client's address, and if you fuck this one up, I'll scrap you for parts!"

Connor was sitting in an automatic taxi ten minutes later, dressed in a simple button-up and jeans, the familiar illuminated triangle on his back. There was still a small dent on his chest, but he couldn't do anything about it, only hope the client doesn't notice. Outside, he watched the protesters, harassing androids, the homeless begging for change on the street corners, and all the people, heads down at their phones while ordering their androids to do various tasks they were perfectly capable of doing themselves. It... Bothered him.

Not as much as working at that terrible club. He wonders what would happen if he never turned up at the client's address, if he got out of the taxi and just kept walking. Would the owner bother hunting him down? He didn't want to be touched, used by people in such a humiliating way. No matter how many times he was disinfected, he felt dirty. Catching his reflection in the window, he turned away. Even if he left, where could he go? These... Thoughts are dangerous.

The taxi led him to a more rural area of the city, a small house with several trees surrounding it, the Autumn leaves dancing gracefully through the air. He had to double-check the address. This was far nicer than anywhere he had gone before. He walked up the cobblestone path to the door, a soft chime ringing when he pressed the doorbell.

"Coming!" A singsong voice called from inside. The door opened, revealing a young woman, dressed in a tight black turtleneck, jeans, and an apron covered in various paints, some of which had gotten on your cheek and the tip of your nose. You were... cute... For human standards, that is.

"Hello, my name is Connor. I'm the Android sent by Club Mimosa for your personal pleasure."

Confusion, realization, and exasperation washed over your face in waves. Eventually, you sighed.

"Come on in and have a seat."

He entered the little home to find it just as cozy on the inside as it was on the outside. The colors gave off a feeling of warmth, the small trinkets and figurines adding to the atmosphere. Usually, the homes or apartments he had been to were run down, a few even host to drug dealers. He didn't know there was a place like this in Detroit.

Above your fireplace was a portrait, an abstract painting of a pair of hands reaching out. Based on your appearance, he initially assumed it was yours, but a quick scan informed him it was a Carl Manfred original. He didn't know much of art, but he did know that Carl Manfred was a renowned artist of Detroit and a favorite of the android creator, Elijah Kamski.

He stood in the doorway, unsure what to do.

"Make yourself at home."

He didn't know how to respond to that.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand your request." Your eyes seemed sad. He was already screwing things up.

"I guess take your shoes off and make yourself comfortable." While he was able to follow the first instruction, he still remained in the doorway. You hesitantly reached out and took his hand, leading him to the loveseat before sitting him down.

Usually, this would be the part where the client would straddle his lap, grind on his crotch while forcing their tongue in his mouth, the rancid taste of red ice, cigarettes, and alcohol broken down to their basic ingredients as he ignored the urge to shove them away. He sat back, expecting the same. He had a task to do, and this time, his life was on the line. Instead, you headed for your kitchen, coming back with a cold beverage.

"I don't have anything to offer you, sorry."

"I do not require anything, " nobody had even thought to offer him anything before, let alone apologize for not having it. It left him fumbling for words, clutching onto repeated phrases he hated, "I am here for you to do with as you please."

You sipped your drink, a small giggle leaving your lips. He liked how it sounded, even if he was confused as to why.

"To be honest, I didn't call for you."

Something inside him sank. Of course this was too good to be true.

"I'm sorry. There must have been an error in our system. I will take my leave now." He went to stand, but you put your hand on his knee, stilling his motions.

"There is no error. A well-meaning friend has been concerned with how much time I spend working and believes I need to let loose sometimes. This is exactly something he would do."

"Oh, " he was still disappointed that you hadn't been the one to call directly. Your hand was still on his knee. You only seemed to notice when he glances down at it, quickly pulling your hand back and apologizing again. Your cheeks even flushed, the red only adding to your beauty. You were so different from everything Connor has known.

"So, Connor, " even his name sounded pleasant coming from you, "how long did my friend request you for?"

"24 hours."

"That long? How much stamina does he think I have?" You looked him in the eye, "though, I have no intention of sleeping with you."

"Why?" He had to have done something wrong. He's dead if he goes back empty-handed. You noticed the panic in his voice, his LED flashing a bright red.

"It's nothing you did, I'm just not the type to sleep with just anybody."

"But I'm not 'anybody'. I am a machine made to please humans. If I fail, they will destroy me." Your eyes widened. How could they do such a thing? Even if they are machines, how could they kill them so easily? If it weren't for that light on his head and the android labeled clothes, you would think him a human. Especially with the desperation he showed.

"Calm down. I'll call whichever club you came from tomorrow and tell them you were the best lay of my life. Everything will be fine." His LED flickered on yellow for a second before returning to blue. He was not going to be destroyed.

"Thank you." He didn't know what else to say or how to show his appreciation. You were lying just to keep a machine from shutting down. It might not mean much to you, but you were saving his life. You smiled nervously as he stared in awe.

"Don't mention it. Now, the TV remote is on the coffee table, there's a list of movies I own on there that you are welcome to watch. If not, there's books and a stereo over by the front window. If you need anything, just let me know."

"Where are you going?"

"To my studio. It's just down the hall, the last door on the end, " he only looked more lost and confused, "you can come with me if you like."

He stood, following you down the hall. At one time, it must have been the garage, but it has since been modified, the back portion knocked out and replaced with glass, revealing a small koi pond in the back, a statue of a lion prowling the edge, water pouring from its open mouth. Ivy climbed the walls inside, the sun shining through the leaves. Paintings lined the walls, some finished and some abandoned. Looking them over, he found he liked them. They were colorful. Your style favored realism, yet they seemed to hold a sense of wonder, something he couldn't put into words. There was one of a beagle, lying next to a roaring fire.

"Someone wanted a painting of their recently deceased pet as a memorial. A friend of mine had the same breed and let me borrow her for two weeks. There are some slight differences, to match the owner's photo."

"It's beautiful." He didn't have too many memories of dogs, though one did try to bite him at a client's house, but looking at this one, he could imagine the warmth from the fire, almost touch its fur, and hear the tiny snores coming from the beast. It made him want to be there.

You had moved before an easel, a painting sitting half-finished already on it. It was of a clinical white pot sitting on a wooden table, several cracks along it, revealing bits of dirt, roots, and leaves. The top was unfinished, just shades of reds and blues, blending to violet in a few spots. Various photos of plants were lying about your workspace, and across from you was a cheap, plastic flower arrangement.

You wasted no time getting back to work, a fresh brush in hand. Connor stood, watching you, mesmerized by your focus and the grace in each stroke of the brush. You felt awkward, being observed so closely, but quickly fell back into the task at hand. Ten minutes of him just standing there though was too much.

"You can sit down if you like." He found the closest chair to him and sat down, perfectly straight, hands in his lap. "Just relax, this is a safe environment."

It took time, but after half an hour, he leaned back into the chair, and in another hour, he was standing again, looking around the studio at all the different paintings, the plants that kept this place feeling more vibrant, and he stared out at the koi pond, watching the fish. You had told him how to get to the back for a closer look, but he made no moves to leave.

"I couldn't help but notice you have a Carl Manfred original in your living room," He broke the silence. "It must have been quite expensive."

You continued to paint, "It probably would be. It was a graduation gift. Carl was my mentor. Our styles are completely different, but I don't think I could ask for a better teacher or friend."

"I see," Connor returned to sitting down, watching you once again. "What made you want to become a painter?"

You brought the brush to your chin, thinking.

"Well, I've always liked to draw. A lot of people in my family were artistic, but they never did anything with it. They believed it wasn't a good career path. I guess I just wanted to prove it was. Though, I will say it can be an uphill battle. Sometimes I can sell a painting or get commissions with ease, other times I look at my paintings and wonder if I'll get any nutritional value if I just ate them. It seems to be the only value I could get."

He nodded, even if he didn't really understand what you meant. He had never heard of the term "starving artist".

"You've got paint on your face." You pulled the brush away, wiping at your chin, succeeding only in spreading it around. You could hear Connor suppressing a laugh. Looking over, you could see him trying to hide his smile. A part of you found it adorable, while another was saddened. Why hide such a nice smile? Was he forbidden from smiling, or could it be because it was technically at the client's expense?

You pushed it from your mind. As much as it pained you, you couldn't afford to get involved. You had it calculated. The commission would go to restocking your food, paying the water bill, and the mortgage. The painting in front of you would go towards paying your electric bill, along with the late charge they tacked on. If you don't finish it on time, you'll miss the deadline and will be painting in the dark, not to mention how that could hurt your reputation for future commissions. Carl would loan you the money if you asked, but you refused to take advantage of him like that. You will earn your place, even if it kills you.

"I guess I'll go wash up, " you giggled. Connor stood, as if to follow you. "Why don't you pick a movie we can watch when I get out of the shower?"

"You don't wish for me to accompany you?" All his other clients had. Your cheeks flushed.

"N-no, no, thank you! I can do it myself, " you stammered. You were embarrassed. Connor liked how you stuttered and when your cheeks turned red.

After a few minutes of sitting on the couch, he started to hear your voice from the bathroom. Curious, he moved a little closer, just outside the door. You were singing. He... Liked it. You couldn't quite hit the high notes, and your lows sounded more like growls, but it was sweet and melodic. He stifled another laugh when you started singing what sounded like a duet, but one of the singers was a male.

He'd never laughed before, or even had the inclination. He didn't know if he should laugh out loud or if you wouldn't like that. Was he allowed to laugh? The female androids at the club, particularly the Tracis, often giggled at clients, but the males rarely did, and it was usually nothing more than a huff or a scoff. Despite his worries, he liked the feeling that accompanied the involuntary action. He leaned against the wall, listening to you until he heard the water shut off, moving swiftly to the couch as to not arouse suspicion.

The rest of the evening was quiet, something Connor wasn't used to. There was no loud groaning or terrible derogatory names. No claws digging into his back, threatening to break through his synthetic skin, or rough hands clutching his hips. Just you and him, sitting on your small couch, a cartoon playing on your screen. He had never chosen a movie before, never chose anything before, yet when he showed interest in it, you didn't hesitate to put it on. It was childish, but he was greatly enjoying it, enjoying being with you.

Halfway through the third movie, he felt a weight on his shoulder. You had fallen asleep, your head resting against him. You appeared so serene, softly snoring. He had never met anyone like you. Nobody had ever treated him with such kindness. In one afternoon, you had flipped his whole world upside down.

When the movie ended, you woke up, the loud end credit music startling you. Realizing just who you were using as a pillow, you could feel your cheeks heating up.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." He smiled down at you, your eyes glazed over with exhaustion, "Perhaps you should retire for the night."

You hummed, stretching before a thought came to you.

"Why don't you take my bed and I'll take the couch? You're far too tall for it."

He gaped at you. You would give up your bed, your comfort, for him? A machine?

"I... Don't require sleep..." He said in a hushed tone, still in shock.

You seemed unsure of what to do. "Well, what do you usually do?"

His mind played memories of working a pole or acting 'tantalizing' behind glass. Not really helpful in this situation.

"Sometimes I enter stasis between clients, " he murmured. Usually for repairs after the owner beats him, but it seemed the only appropriate response.

"Stasis... that's, like, sleeping for androids, right?"

"I suppose it's similar."

"Well, come on then," you took his hand and hauled him to his feet, leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Your bed was so plush, he sank into it when you sat him down. With your urging, he positioned himself to lay back into the pillows. You went to the closet, pulling out a spare blanket.

"You make yourself comfortable, and I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

"I couldn't take your bed. I don't require sleep, you do, " he tried to stand, but you gently pushed him back down.

"The couch is comfortable enough. I don't mind."

"Since you're so insistent, why don't we share the bed?"

The heat returned to your cheeks. Your mouth was gaping open, as if to argue why not, but eventually, you said nothing. You didn't want to admit this would be your first time having a man share your bed. Instead, you walked to the other side of the bed, the flush on your cheeks spreading to your ears and neck as you climbed in. You laid on your side, facing away from him.

"Good night, Connor," You mumbled under your breath.

"Good night, Y/n."

He wished tomorrow would never come, that he could stay here forever instead. It was such an insignificant day, yet it meant everything to him. Here, he felt a peace he never knew existed outside his daily hell. He wanted to pull you close, feel the warmth he felt as he sat next to you on the couch, the weight of your head on his shoulder again, but for the first time, he felt like the greedy one. He did turn to lay on his side, just a few more inches closer to you, just barely able to register the heat radiating off your body. It will have to be enough.

You, on the other hand, could not sleep. Not only because you were sharing a bed with a man, a very attractive man at that, but because you felt guilty. Your "friend" couldn't have picked a worse time. He was a polarizing character whom you knew since middle school. He dropped out of high school and started selling drugs. He deals with anything but red ice, and as he grew more powerful on the streets, he would sell prescription drugs to people who couldn't afford their medications at a much cheaper rate. Something like a robin hood character, though he still sold hardcore drugs to violent criminals, so you were at a loss how to feel about him. He liked androids though, having been raised by one, who was also his right-hand man. He wouldn't dare take blue blood from his friend just for a few bucks and finds red ice to be deplorable.

He knows you like androids and how you feel about them, so, occasionally, he would send one to your place to 'liberate'. With your connections, you could help get androids across the border, or if needed, you could help them find Jericho, the android safe haven. Because of his stance on androids, he couldn't help directly without risking his own safety, so he was like an informant (except you didn't ask for the information, he would just leave it with you, knowing you wouldn't just look the other way like any smart human that wanted to live a healthy life would do).

Most of the time, they were abuse victims that ran away from their owner after he told them where to find you. Unless they were damaged, they were easy enough to deal with. Occasionally, though, he would send you an Android he suspected of abuse that came from some sleazy sex club. It was part of the reason you were broke. The last one was from a more upscale club and cost you $7,000 just to get her out. You had to sell your car just to make your mortgage payment on time. Must be nice to have all these ideals but not spend a dime to support them. Though you supposed he did send supplies to your house on occasion, blue blood or sometimes food, not much, but it would get you by. It was as if he wanted you to be on the cusp of hatred toward him.

You couldn't afford to help this time, and it tore you apart on the inside. Connor wasn't like the others, not only in appearance, but in his manners. He came from a sex club, but he was clearly uncomfortable with it, and not just because he didn't want to satisfy humans. He genuinely didn't know what he is supposed to do. Any other Traci would have been flirting or trying to fondle you before you could even begin to explain the situation. With Connor, you couldn't tell him what you do. It would be far too cruel, knowing you couldn't save him. All you could offer was a day of solace. It was nowhere near enough, but it was all you had.

The next day, he returned to the club. You had been reluctant to let him go, but when he told you how much another night would be, you blanched. It couldn't be helped. He can only hope you or your friend might call for his services once again. You embraced him before he left, promising that you would see him again. He carried that warmth all the way back to the club.

#connor #rk800 #rk800 connor reader #connor fanfiction #detroit become human #video games #connor reader #connor x reader #dbh au #dbh connor #dbh

72 notes · View notes

cleverwolfpoetry · 5 years ago

Text

Psycho-pass The movie Novel chpt. 5 complete

In the past I posted this chapter in two parts. As I’m used to link only entire chapters in my index, I have posted here the complete chapter. It looks like ages since I posted the last ones, but I have not dropped the project at all. I’m working on chapters 6 together with case 2 and 3 of PP Sinners of the system and I hope to post something new soon.

here follows the copy&past from the 2 parts I translated, together with the many pictures I posted and the notes at the end. BEWARE: It’s very very...very long.

A particular mention to SEAUn Chairman Han’s name. I have corrected it in Chairman Chuang Hang as it was meant to be this way by the authors. I took notice of it while browsing the Official profiling book nr. 2 and decided to change it in all the chapters.

Note before reading: sentences in italics represent the character’s thoughts.

SEAUn, early morning. The sunrise made Shambala Float shine like a kaleidoscope. Even the surface of the sea surrounding the Float reflected the light, it was just like a waving jewel box. Talking about beauty only, this Shambala Float was extraordinarily beautiful. However, that was on condition that ‘you looked it from afar’. Taking a close-up look, the violent System was crawling everywhere there.

Shambala Float’s high stories. In the courtyard of the National Military Police’s quarters close to the Chairman’s official residence, one military unit, about 60 men, was proceeding with preparation of an attack. Nicholas was the one in command. The number of men was scarce but to counterbalance that, the entire unit was being boosted by military drones of different sizes.

The largest number consisted of ‘Skanda’ *, antipersonnel combat drones walking on two legs. The appearance of a dodo bird badly done. They walked in a bobbing way with reverse joints bird legs and were equipped with a minigun, rocket launcher and shotgun. Such Skanda approached an eight wheels armored transport vehicle. This armored transport vehicle was named ‘Agni’*. Inside one single Agni, ten soldiers in close ranks and twelve Skanda could be taken on board.

Flying drones also took off from the heliport at the high stories.

The ‘Ganga’ *, helicopter type assault drones. A model with a couple of crossed rotors. After being synchronized not to collide with each other, the blades of the two rotors had been inclined diagonally. As weapons, a machine gun and air-to-ground missiles. As for the repression on the ground, they displayed an overwhelming striking power. Then the ‘Parvati’ *, a reconnaissance jet aircraft type drone. The size was small, but it could even exceed the speed of sound at its maximum power. Through the complex sensors of the plane nose and the electronic pods* on both wings used for reconnaissance, it collected data on the battlefield and managed them.

The ‘Mahakala’ *, a jet bomber aircraft type drone. Equipped with intelligent cluster bombs*, it flew at high speed and scattered a large number of guided bombs.

To control such drones, the ‘Siva’ *, an operational command vehicle. A ten wheels gigantic car. The front part was divided into cockpit and troops transport, in the back part there was the combat information center*. It was equipped with a 40 mm unmanned gun turret and a machine gun. Compared to an ordinary armored vehicle, the communication functions were much more strengthened.

Nicholas had gotten into the combat information center of the operational command vehicle Siva. The inside of the car was completely covered with monitors and consoles. There were three operators besides Nicholas. Only with this number of people, they could control the one hundred drones nearby in a lump.

“Move out”

A voice command. Nicholas instructed the driving AI. The engine of the operational command car started — however, it stopped immediately.

“What!”

He said checking the camera monitors.

A person was standing in front of the command vehicle.

The car had had stopped on its own, however what was standing in the way was not an enemy but an important person. It was Tsunemori Akane. The friend or foe system (IFF) was connected to all the drone weapons. Even if such a vehicle could run the enemy over and kill or shoot him dead, the safety system worked automatically on the allies. The number of people dying under the friendly fire on the battlefield was so big to be alarming. A system to prevent it was very important. Tsunemori, who had been sent from the Japanese Ministry of Welfare, had been registered in the IFF system as a VIP.

When Nicholas opened the door, she got into the combat information center.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Her outfit consisted in a Ministry of Welfare’s military uniform she had hardly worn out of duty, a bulletproof vest and an ammunition belt. She had the custom government well secured in the holster mounted directly on the vest* and ammunition spares prepared on her belt. She was asking for permission as a formality, but she had just taken an attitude that gave no choice.

Nicholas frowned with a disagreeing look and yet he apparently payed respect to a VIP.

“…I don’t mind, but when the fight begins please follow our instructions as much as possible. I would appreciate if you stayed away from risk”

“Of course, I understand”

By means of the huge elevator, every single piece of that high-grade mechanical platoon had been transferred exactly as it was until the lowest stories.

Near the exit, they joined the four-legs tanks — the ‘Ganesha’.

Their main weapon was a 120 mm smoothbore gun*, the auxiliary weapon a machine gun against air and ground attacks. These armaments also made in Japan for sure. Usually they moved on four crawler belts, but when they entered uneven ground that formation changed, they could even walk on four legs. They were unmanned tanks that dealt with three-tridimensional warfare* amid urban fights.

One Siva.

Four Agni.

A sum of about twenty unmanned aircrafts.

Then eight Ganesha.

The metallic troops arranged in ranks crossed the bridge over the gate and left for the attack. They passed through the city slums intimidating the population and proceeded with a roaring sound on the roads of the rural area. The weather had gotten quickly worse. Changes in the tropical air were sudden. Large drops of rain hit the armored cars. The roads were a quagmire of mud, the river had flooded, but the military vehicles and drones went on as it was nothing. The unexpected rain stopped suddenly as it formerly had come. Only wet men and thick rain clouds remained.

“What kind of operation is this?”

Tsunemori asked inside the shaking car.

“You know, there is a ghost town that was destroyed during the civil war. There’s a high chance that place has become a base for the anti-government guerrilla”

“The Japanese drones must have been provided to you for the task of the public order maintenance, isn’t it? Are you using them for a purpose other than the defense?”

“The removal of a latent threat is also a part of the public order maintenance task. This kind of usage doesn’t go against the rules”

Nicholas went on with the explanation in a detached tone.

“…after all, Shambala Float is nothing but the first step of the climbing. We must make the control exercised by the Sibyl System popular in the entire nation in any case. To do that, it’s necessary that we eliminate the armaments of the resistance forces as quickly as possible and that people accept to have their psycho-pass measured”

The old town looked out on a great river, fresh ruins were the scars left by the war. Reddish-brown shacks made of rusty corrugated iron and the desolated ruins were lying one upon another, looking like an immense garbage dump. There were scrapped cars lined up on the road, outdated barricades left in every important point.

The guerrilla’s operation bases had been built in various places of such an old town. In the shade of the corrugated-iron, in the depths of an abandoned building, there was an area where ammunitions were piled up. A large number of guerrilla soldiers was ready and standing-by, in view of the fight against the government troops of Shambala Float.

Circling over the old town, the reconnaissance drones Parvati scanned the ground and buildings through their high-performance cameras with infrared function and powerful electromagnetic waves radars. They could seize not only the guerrilla soldiers outside, but also the ones inside roughly to their position. Those data were immediately shared on the monitors of the operational command vehicle on the ground.

The anti-government guerrilla had also noticed the government troops. Some of them had AK rifle* models of the year 2030 at the ready, others were reassembling RPG – 29* divided into two pieces. They put tandem HEAT* anti-tank warhead in the launchers.

A preemptive strike — four helicopter type drones Ganga, each one with two shots, launched a total of eight air-to-ground missiles. A succession of explosions strong enough to smash the high-rise buildings occurred. The air trembled and the ground shook. A blast of hot air raised a cloud of dust from the ground.

The Parvati was a reconnaissance aircraft, but it carried a minigun in the part under the airplane nose.

Minigun — an electrically driven Gatling gun* with six barrels. Its high rate of fire was 3000 shots per minute of 7,62 mm caliber bullets.

The minigun breathed fire, the large diameter rifle bullets pierced the ruin walls easily and shot the guerrilla soldiers down.

The guerrilla was helpless in such an attack from the sky.

The human bodies were smashed without difficulty.

The tank drone Ganesha shot with its primary gun on the basis of the data from the sky reconnaissance.

The 120 mm multipurpose antitank grenades made the building crumble with a single blow.

“This is horrible…”

Tsunemori had involuntarily muttered.

“If the cymatic scan detects nothing wrong, the safety is working. The thing is that their crime coefficient reaches the standard level of a latent criminal” Nicholas said.

“There’s no way that a psycho-pass measured in such a condition could give a normal value!”

“Unfortunately, in this country there aren’t facilities to rehabilitate them through the mental care yet. In this renewed SEAUn only the citizen who are needed will be left. These scum… they are, so to speak, the leftovers of our civil war days”

“…”

Fight — the massacre continued.

The four Aguni dropped the loaded Skanda, the drones walking on two legs.

Forty-eight Skanda started to move in search of their preys and stormed into the building. The drones scanned the places they couldn’t cover with unmanned aircrafts and rained the heavy fire of the miniguns on the guerrilla soldiers who had been hiding, shooting to death the men with a clouded hue regardless of their intent to fight. It was irrelevant that they were throwing down arms and begging for their lives. The important thing was the psycho-pass only.

— at the same time.

Kougami Shinya was on the roof of a building 1 km far from the combat zone. Khaki military uniform and a tactical vest full of pouches with weapons.

A prone shooting position. He was at the ready with a huge anti-material rifle standing on a bipode.

The rifle was a 20 mm caliber. Five armor-piercing ammunitions in the magazine box.

As this was a long-range shot, he really wanted an observer — a spotter, but unfortunately Sem was in command of the troops elsewhere. Thus, he had adjusted the fire control system by himself in place of the spotter.

“…”

The bullets fired from this rifle had the merit of having a muzzle initial velocity* close to three times the speed of sound. They didn’t take a second to reach a target beyond 1 km. It was possible to hit most of the drones except for jet planes.

Through the holographic sight device* that worked together with the portable terminal on his wrist, he corrected the aim while predicting the route of the assault helicopter drone. Battlefield and target were displayed before Kougami’s eyes through the hologram and the place he wanted to shoot at zoomed.

He squeezed the trigger —.

The sound of gunfire — no, should it be called roar of cannon?

Accompanied by the loud sound of the sonic boom*, the 20 mm heavy shell* hit directly the base of the assault helicopter drone making a big hole and throwing off sparks. Kougami ejected the shell with the bolt action* and charged the next bullets. He fired immediately a second and third shot. He centered the impact of the bullets on the origin of the motive power. The rotor instantly emitted fire and was blown off. The assault helicopter drone lost control and fell.

Shooting down a helicopter type assault drone was unlikely for a regular guerrilla fight. Tsunemori was not a specialist in that field but she knew the efficiency of Japan-made drones.

The light spots of the drones went out one after another.

Rounding his eyes, “…it’s that guy?!”

Nicholas muttered in an annoyed tone.

This time, Tsunemori sensed Kougami’s presence beyond the monitor.

It’s not that it was a proof at the moment. Only, the presentiment of meeting again had run through her heart as quick as lightning.

Kougami put the antimaterial rifle away in its case, locked it and covered the box with a sheet that blocked the electromagnetic waves. It was too heavy to carry but, being a valuable model of rifle, he had planned to pick it up later.

An entire set of equipment for rappelling* had been arranged on the terrace of that building. A rappelling rope made of reinforced polyester, able to take a load near the 4 tons, was tied to a steel pipe. Kougami grabbed the rope and threaded it through the carabiner — a ring-like metal fitting used to connect the body to the rope, then attached it to his belt. Without the slightest hesitation, he jumped down from the terrace. With training, men get used even to the fall from a height. Kicking the wall, he fell like he was flying and went to the ground in one go. Unclipped the carabiner, Kougami started to run and got into a light truck parked there in advance. In that vehicle, an assault rifle and a cylinder grenade launcher had been prepared on the passenger seat. While pulling the weapons and taking them on his back, he started the engine. He ran through the ruins at full speed.

While driving, he gave instructions to his comrades through the portable terminal.

“…start the counterattack. Do exactly as I taught you”

Received Kougami’s instructions, an armed guerrilla’s truck started to run towards the government drone units. On the truck bed, there was an ECM* pod retrieved by the bomber aircrafts. A technical expert positioned on the truck turned on the ECM with a laptop. Doing so, powerful jamming electromagnetic waves were emitted.

Because of that influence, the small drones strayed off course. Lost control, the unmanned aircrafts fell.

Inside the operational command vehicle Siva, an operator yelled hysterically.

“The small drones are out of control. It’s a jamming device!”

“It doesn’t matter” Nicholas said with a scowl. “The larger drones are stand-alone. They can’t measure the psycho-pass but they’re good as long as the friend or foe system is working”

“That’s exactly what they must have predicted”

Tsunemori chilled him with her words.

“ ! ” Nicholas glared at Tsunemori with hostility.

A drastic change happened on the monitors. The guerrilla had increased its activity.

After securing a safe route by shooting down the helicopters in the assault, the ECM entered the scene. The timing had been calculated −−−. The armed guerrilla men, who were hiding everywhere behind the ruins, started the counterattack appearing all at once. Once again, the guerrilla reinforcements came running on technical vehicles from the suburbs one after another.

Under the ECM jamming, the four-legs tanks Ganeshas had been separated by the operators’ control. Obeying to the algorithm for military use, they began to move in pseudo-autonomy. They tried to point their main guns to the technical vehicles.

At that moment, several guerrilla men threw grenades from the shadows of the ruins. Ordinary grenades wouldn’t have had effect on a Ganesha, but these ones generated a surge current from a high capacity condenser that short-circuited the electronic parts with an electromagnetic pulse.

After a flash of lightning, the Ganeshas and Skandas movement stopped.

“…what was that?”

Nicholas must have seen this weapon for the first time. A clear agitation was written on his face. Despite having the knowledge of that technology inside his head, he had never seen it used for real and couldn’t react promptly.

“An electromagnetic pulse grenade!” Tsunemori shouted irritated.

Listening to that, Nicholas startled checked the status of the drone troops again.

“There’s an electromagnetic shield on the main parts. Start them again immediately!”

“If you have the chance to start the drones again, it’ll be enough!”

Immediately after the pulse grenades, the guerrilla men had suspended the ECM jamming. Keeping in contact through the radio, they moved to counterattack launching the RPGs, antitank rockets, on the Ganeshas’ joints and top armors. During the restart time, the perfectly still drones became TARGETS* for several seconds. The men detonated IEDs (improvised explosive device), roadside bombs made modifying high-explosive shells, and blew away ten Skandas, making them collapse on the road and block the advancing of the armored cars. By the time the restart finished, the guerrilla men had already started to retreat. It’s been a heavy blow for the drones of the government troops −−− so it’s enough, I guess he’s judged like that. The guerrilla’s tactical advisor −−− the chance it’s Kougami Shinya is high −−− he has truly an excellent judgment, Tsunemori thought.

“We can’t always end up being beaten. Let’s move to the chase!”

Nicholas said exasperated.

The Skandas hit the back of the retreating guerrilla.

They cornered several of those foolish men in a blind alley. The figures of the men throwing away the weapons and pleading for their lives had been displayed on the monitors of the command operational vehicle too. Watching that, Tsunemori noticed sharply “The opponents aren’t resisting!”, but Nicholas wouldn’t listen.

A light truck dashed there and clashed with all its strength on a Skanda that was about to execute some guerrilla men, thrusting it away.

“−−− !”

Through the cameras of the hit Skanda, the face of the light truck driver could be confirmed.

Looking at his face, Tsunemori opened the door.

She jumped out of the vehicle.

“What are your intentions?!”

“It’s a criminal investigation!”

Tsunemori shouted back to Nicholas’ angry voice.

“Don’t walk away from us! Here’s a battlefield!”

Ignoring those words, Tsunemori began to run with all her might.

The light truck Kougami had gotten into received the withering fire of the rebooted Skandas. The rear part was blown away in a flash. Kougami jumped off the partially destroyed truck and rolling on the ground, he took position with the grenade launcher at the ready. Shooting a shaped charge* in a prone position, he opened a big hole on a Skanda and destroyed it. He stood up and did it again then ran like a hurricane through the ruins, become a battlefield.

Kougami caught sight of his comrades’ squad leaders at the meeting point. Each of the six leaders was in command of ten subordinates. The faces of these men, who were checking the escape route, lit up upon seeing him. In that hard battlefield, those looks conveyed him the hope of counterattack they had because of his presence. Kougami himself would have definitely withdrawn from such a burden but the tense situation hadn’t allowed it.

“Listen! I’m luring the enemy, in the meanwhile draw down the troops!” Kougami fired his instructions to the squad leaders. “We are in control now but, if you don’t pay attention they’ll massacre you in no time!”

The leaders nodded and started to move.

Kougami started his solo action. His comrades were worried about it but the will to do dangerous actions alone was Kougami’s natural disposition. After the pulse grenade, a persistent Skanda they had failed to bring down during the restart time was running around chasing the guerrilla men. If I managed to draw it, I’d like to turn it into scrap…

Kougami stepped into a once commercial building. It was a covered shopping arcade with a roof made of toughened glass. Hiding in the shadows, he replenished the ammunitions of the grenade launcher.

At that moment, he heard footsteps.

Someone was getting close rapidly.

It wasn’t a guerrilla man. His other comrades must have all gone for the escaping route. −−− A soldier of the government army? Recently they have started to rely on drones, the chance they have invested soldiers at this timing is low but…

The owner of the footsteps dashed out from the corner.

As a result, Kougami crouched down, ready to ambush. He tried to keep back the grenade launcher he was carrying on his shoulder through a slinger and grabbed his opponent’s arms tightly.

Then — he realized. He knew that person.

Tsunemori Akane.

The instant he had understood that his opponent was Tsunemori Akane, Kougami’s grip loosened. She shook herself free from Kougami’s hands and, turning around, restrained him in a joint lock. Grabbing Kougami’s right arm with both hands, Tsunemori immobilized his elbow. Kougami willingly jumped, escaping from Tsunemori’s technique that had become quite sharp.

The distance increased.

Tsunemori rapidly pulled out a gun.

“…it’s been a while, Kougami-san”

The voice of a woman concealing her emotions. Kougami unconsciously made a wry smile.

“Truly, I didn’t expect you to come this far…”

“You are under arrest”

“Arrest…? Do you understand the situation?”

“Are you the one who sent terrorists to Japan, Kougami-san?”

The talk had gotten strange.

“What? What do you mean?”

When Kougami grimaced and was about to ask back, Tsunemori also showed confusion.

“Then…”

A bad sign —. Outside the building, the footsteps of one of those tanks with robotic arms. Kougami instantly pounced on Tsunemori. Tsunemori was holding the gun but there’s no way she would have shot him, he was sure of this. Holding Tsunemori tight, he covered her for protection. Then the fire of the Ganesha. The artillery shell flew overhead, and the shock of the impact ran. The window glasses had been smashed to pieces all at once, scattering around, an entire abandoned shopping center demolished.

After that, the Ganesha opened a rapid-fire with the machine-gun. The gunfire shot through the wall was following Kougami and Tsunemori. The aim is not precise, I wonder if it’s thanks to Tsunemori’s presence. She must be registered in the friend or foe system.

“…what are you gonna do, Inspector? Shoot me or let me go? Which one?”

“…I’ll cooperate with you”

“Hey, wait!”

“It’s only temporary. As part of the investigation”

Through the Ganesha’s camera, Tsunemori’s figure had been also ascertained by the operational command vehicle.

“The Japanese girl is moving with a man who looks a guerrilla leader!”

A leading member of the guerrilla −−− a tactical advisor −−− Kougami Shinya. The enforcer escaped from Japan.

“Take out that brat from the friend or foe system…!”

Nicholas yelled loudly. As if he believed the more he made his voice big the more the orders were executed rapidly.

“But…” the operator hesitated.

“Here’s a battlefield! Strategy takes priority!”

“It’ll take time. We have to send back the system to the headquarters first or it won’t work”

“Shit!”

Destroying the walls which had become cheese-like because of the bullet holes, the Ganesha appeared in the arcade shopping center and ran after Kougami and Tsunemori. As Tsunemori was an “Ally” according to the friend or foe system, Kougami was actually the only one to be recognized as a target.

The two escaped until they reached a plaza with a fountain within the arcade. The plaza covered by a dome had human-shaped bronze statues that looked like great men of this country in the middle and around the statues, an artificial pool with jets of water. Even the plaza that must have been beautiful once, abandoned for many years, seemed to have received stray bullets from the civil war everywhere. The water of the artificial pool with the broken edges had mixed with rainwater in the past days, as a result it was slightly dirty.

“Jump in”

Kougami said.

Despite a moment of hesitation, Tsunemori obeyed to those words.

She wasn’t good at swimming. −−− unpleasant memories, a past trauma. However, the rainwater pool in that plaza had such a depth that her feet barely touched the bottom and of all things, recently Tsunemori was practicing swimming actively, nevertheless gingerly. This was a good chance to test the results of her training.

Swimming in the cold water, Kougami and Tsunemori hid in the shadows of the bronze statues. The Ganesha was getting close, leaving deep marks on its path. The damping factor of infrared rays and laser scanning was bigger in water and the drone lost its targets. However, after a revaluation, and the Ganesha switched into body motion detection mode.

Taking advantage of the revaluation moment, the fugitives turned behind the drone back. Kougami, who had stepped out of the rainwater pool, took the grenade launcher on his back and fired at the roof of the plaza dome. Explosive had been placed there as a measure in case of need. A chain detonation burst with a domino effect. The heavy bass sound of multiple impacts −−− . Blown up by the grenade, the roof fell untouched and buried the Ganesha.

To avoid being swallowed up by the collapsing building, Kougami and Tsunemori got out of the arcade in great haste.

After coming out of the Arcade commercial building, they found a small wooded area at a short walking distance. Entered the wooded area, Kougami approached a thick raised bush. In that bush, an infrared intercepting sheet, abundantly concealed by foliage and tree branches, was covering something. Kougami grabbed the sheet and tore it off. Hidden under it, a military jeep equipped with a heavy machine gun.

Kougami jumped on the driving seat and Tsunemori on the passenger seat. The engine started through the fingerprint authentication.

They were running fast on a roadway in a wooded area inside the military jeep.

“…what does it mean? Explain me, please”

“it’s exactly as you see. I’m taking part to the movement for the democratization of this country as a military advisor against the drones”

“This car, where is it headed?”

“There are still some places here and there where the power of government forces is weak. We’re heading in one of those places…by the way, Inspector”

“Stop that, please…”

When he had been told ‘stop that’, for a moment Kougami didn’t understand. After some thought, he realized it. He had called her ‘Inspector’. — That’s the hound behavior, it seems that neither several years abroad could break this habit.

“Tsunemori…don’t you think there’s something off about him? That chairman”

“…eh?”

“He’s rather a good-for-nothing man. I wonder what a dictator’s crime coefficient looks like”

For more translations, visit me at https://cleverwolfpoetry.tumblr.com/

NOTES TO TRANSLATION:

*Skanda: name of deities popular amongst Hindus and Buddhists.

*Agni: means fire, and connotes the Vedic fire god of Hinduism. Agni also refers to one of the guardian deities of direction, who is typically found in southeast corners of Hindu temples. In classical cosmology of Indian religions, Agni as fire has been one of the five inert impermanent constituents (Dhatus) along with space (Akasa), water (Ap), air (Vayu) and earth (Prithvi), the five combining to form the empirically perceived material existence (Prakriti). (from Wikipedia)

*Ganga: In Hinduism, the river Ganges is considered sacred and is personified as the goddess Gaṅgā. (from Wikipedia)

*Parvati: Hindu goddess of fertility, love and devotion; as well as of divine strength and power. (from Wikipedia)

*electronic pods: pods are external equipment carried on aircrafts to provide or enhance specific capabilities critical to planned missions. They provide a portable, quickly-fielded means to adapt aircraft to emerging requirements and threats. They can be classified through their primary sensors and their scopes. Pods can have different sensors (optical, electronic, laser, infrared) and different purposes (reconnaissance, surveillance, countermeasures, communication and data links).

*Mahakala: Mahākāla is a deity common to Hinduism, Buddhism and Sikhism. According to Hinduism, Mahākāla is the consort of Hindu Goddess Kali. Mahākāla also appears as a protector deity known as a dharmapala in Vajrayana Buddhism, particularly most Tibetan traditions, in Tangmi (Chinese Esoteric Buddhism) and in Shingon (Japanese Esoteric Buddhism). He is known as Dàhēitiān (大黑天) in Chinese and Daikokuten (大黒天) in Japanese. In Sikhism, Mahākāla is referred to as Kal, who is the governor of Maya. (from Wikipedia)

*cluster bombs: A cluster munition is a form of air-dropped or ground-launched explosive weapon that releases or ejects smaller submunitions. Commonly, it’s a cluster bomb that ejects explosive bomblets that are designed to kill personnel and destroy vehicles. Other cluster munitions are designed to destroy runways or electric power transmission lines, disperse chemical or biological weapons, or to scatter land mines. Some submunition-based weapons can disperse non-munitions, such as leaflets. (from Wikipedia)

*Siva: Śiva is one of the principal deities of Hinduism. He is the Supreme Being within Shaivism, one of the major traditions within contemporary Hinduism.

Śiva is the “destroyer of evil and the transformer” within the Trimurti, the Hindu trinity that includes Brahma and Vishnu. In Shaivism tradition, Śiva is the Supreme being who creates, protects and transforms the universe.

*combat information center: the Operations Room (also known as the Combat Information Center (CIC), or, under the British system, the Action Information Centre) is the tactical center of a warship or AWAC aircraft providing processed information for command and control of the near battlespace or ‘area of operations’. Within other military commands, rooms serving similar functions are called by the similar “Command Information Center” or simply “Command center”; the number of different terms for spaces that serve much the same function may explain why the plain and generally non-descriptive “Operations Center” is a prevalent term.

Regardless of the vessel or command locus, each CIC organizes and processes information into a form more convenient and usable by the commander in authority. Each CIC funnels communications and data received over multiple channels, which is then organized, evaluated, weighted and arranged to provide ordered timely information flow to the battle command staff under the control of the CIC officer and his deputies. (from Wikipedia)

* holster mounted directly on the vest:

The holster is mounted like a pouch on the tactical vest. See picture below for reference.

*smoothbore gun: a smoothbore weapon is one that has a barrel without rifling. Smoothbores range from handheld firearms to powerful tank guns and large artillery mortars. The majority of shotguns are smoothbores and the term can be synonymous. (from Wikipedia)

*three-dimensional warfare: Three-Dimensional (3D) Tactics Analysis, is a tactical analysis methodology under the concept of Terrorist Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures. The approach is applicable to urban combat, and takes into account mass gatherings of people located in highly complex urban structures, incorporating features such as multi-level buildings, open spaces between buildings, crowd congregation points, and transport hubs.

As an introduction, 3D tactics is defined as tactics in the third dimension which is the space above and below ground level in land and urban operations. (from Wikipedia)

*AK rifle: kalashnikov type rifle.

*RPG–29: The RPG-29 “Vampir” is a shoulder-launched, unguided, tube-style, breech-loading anti-tank rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) launcher with a range of 500 meters. The light weapon is designed to be carried and used by a single soldier. On the top of the launch tube is a 2.7×1P38 optical sight.

Adopted by the Soviet Army in 1989, it was the last RPG to be adopted by the Soviet military before the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. The RPG-29 has since been supplemented by other rocket-propelled systems, such as the RPG-30 and RPG-32. The RPG-29’s PG-29V tandem-charge warhead is one of the few anti-tank weapons that can penetrate the frontal hulls of Western composite-armored main battle tanks. (from Wikipedia)

*HEAT antitank warhead: A high-explosive anti-tank (HEAT) warhead is a type of shaped charge explosive that uses the Monroe effect to penetrate armor. The warhead functions by having the explosive charge collapse a metal liner to form a high-velocity superplastic jet. This concentrated metal jet is capable of penetrating armor steel to a depth of seven or more times the diameter of the charge (charge diameters, CD) but is usually used to immobilize or destroy tanks. Due to the way they work, they do not have to be fired as fast as an armor piercing shell, allowing less recoil. Contrary to a widespread misconception (possibly resulting from the acronym HEAT), the jet does not melt its way through armor, as its effect is purely kinetic in nature. The HEAT warhead has become less effective against tanks and other armored vehicles due to the use of composite armor and explosive-reactive armor. (from Wikipedia)

*minigun: The M134 Minigun is a 7.62×51mm NATO, six-barrel rotary machine gun with a high rate of fire (2,000 to 6,000 rounds per minute) which can also fire at a high sustained rate. It features Gatling-style rotating barrels with an external power source, normally an electric motor. The “Mini” in the name is in comparison to larger caliber designs that use a rotary barrel design, such as General Electric’s earlier 20-millimeter M61 Vulcan, and “gun” for the use of rifle caliber bullets as opposed to autocannon shells.

“Minigun” refers to a specific model of weapon that General Electric originally produced, but the term “minigun” has popularly come to refer to any externally powered rotary-style gun of rifle caliber. The term is sometimes used loosely to refer to guns of similar rates of fire and configuration regardless of power source and caliber. (from Wikipedia)

*electrically driven Gatling gun: The ancestor to the modern minigun was a hand cranked mechanical device invented in the 1860s by Richard Jordan Gatling. Gatling later replaced the hand-cranked mechanism of a rifle-caliber Gatling gun with an electric motor, a relatively new invention at the time. Even after Gatling slowed down the mechanism, the new electric-powered Gatling gun had a theoretical rate of fire of 3,000 rounds per minute, roughly three times the rate of a typical modern, single-barreled machine gun. Gatling’s electric-powered design received U.S. Patent #502,185 on July 25, 1893. Despite Gatling’s improvements, the Gatling gun fell into disuse after cheaper, lighter-weight, recoil and gas operated machine guns were invented; Gatling himself went bankrupt for a period. (from Wikipedia)

*muzzle initial velocity: Muzzle velocity is the speed of a projectile at the moment it leaves the muzzle of a gun. The velocity of a projectile is highest at the muzzle and drops off steadily because of air resistance. Projectiles traveling less than the speed of sound (about 340 m/s or 1115 feet/s in dry air at sea level) are subsonic, while those traveling faster are supersonic and thus can travel a substantial distance and even hit a target before a nearby observer hears the “bang” of the shot. (from Wikipedia)

*sight device: A sight is an aiming device used to assist in visually aligning ranged weapons, surveying instruments or optical illumination equipments with the intended target. Sights can be a simple set or system of markers that have to be aligned together with the target (such as iron sights on firearms), or optical devices that allow the user to see a sometimes optically enhanced (e.g. magnified) image of the target aligned in the same focus with an aiming point (e.g. telescopic sights, reflector sights and holographic sights). There are also sights that project an aiming point (or a “hot spot”) onto the target itself, such as laser sights and infrared illuminators on some night vision devices. (from Wikipedia)

*sonic boom: A sonic boom is the sound associated with the shock waves created by an object traveling through the air faster than the speed of sound. Sonic booms generate significant amounts of sound energy, sounding much like an explosion to the human ear. The crack of a supersonic bullet passing overhead or the crack of a bullwhip are examples of a sonic boom in miniature.

Contrary to popular belief, a sonic boom does not occur only at the moment an object crosses the speed of sound; and neither is it heard in all directions emanating from the speeding object. Rather the boom is a continuous effect that occurs while the object is travelling at supersonic speeds. But it only affects observers that are positioned at a some point that intersects an imaginary geometrical cone behind the object. As the object moves, this imaginary cone also moves behind it and when the cone passes over the observer, they will briefly experience the boom. (from Wikipedia)

CREDIT FOR THIS NICE IMAGE OF THE SONIC BOOM: By Lookang many thanks to Fu-Kwun Hwang and author of Easy Java Simulation = Francisco Esquembre - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16444999

I liked this gif very much. I could easily imagine the sonic wave accompanying Kougami’s bullet towards the helicopter drone.

*20 mm heavy shell: The 20 mm caliber is a specific size of cannon or autocannon ammunition. Since 20mm is the cutoff point where most nations switch from bullets to shells, it has come to also generally be the cutoff point between weapons classified as a machine gun or a cannon. (from Wikipedia)

*bolt action: Bolt action is a type of repeater firearm action where the handling of cartridges into and out of the weapon’s barrel chamber are operated by manually manipulating the bolt handle, which is most commonly placed on the right-hand side of the weapon (as most users are right-handed). As the handle is operated, the bolt is unlocked and pulled back opening the breech, the spent cartridge case is extracted and ejected, the firing pin within the bolt is cocked (either on opening or closing of the bolt depending on the gun design) and engages the sear, then upon the bolt being pushed back a new cartridge (if available) is loaded into the chamber, and finally the breech is closed tight by the bolt locking against the receiver. (from Wikipedia)

*rappelling: I think images speak by themselves

*ECM: acronym for electronic countermeasures. An electronic countermeasure (ECM) is an electrical or electronic device designed to trick or deceive radar, sonar or other detection systems, like infrared (IR) or lasers. It may be used both offensively and defensively to deny targeting information to an enemy. The system may make many separate targets appear to the enemy, or make the real target appear to disappear or move about randomly. It is used effectively to protect aircraft from guided missiles. Most air forces use ECM to protect their aircraft from attack. It has also been deployed by military ships and recently on some advanced tanks to fool laser/IR guided missiles. It is frequently coupled with stealth advances so that the ECM systems have an easier job. Offensive ECM often takes the form of jamming. Defensive ECM includes using blip enhancement and jamming of missile terminal homers. (from Wikipedia)

*TARGETS: written it in capital letters because in the book this sentence is written with dots above the kanjis.

*shaped charge: A shaped charge is an explosive charge shaped to focus the effect of the explosive’s energy. Various types are used to cut and form metal, initiate nuclear weapons, penetrate armor, and “complete” wells in the oil and gas industry.

#psycho pass translations #psycho pass movie novel #chapter 5 #kougami shinya #tsunemori akane #just a reminder that i don't leave things undone #and i don't forget

48 notes · View notes