#but like..........the clear eyed completely cold stone killer he turned into | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellemorte180 · 4 years ago

Text

Wanderlust Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Klaus would not say he was a morning person but given the fact that he was a light sleeper, waking up early had become a habit. It was a side effect of years traveling between towns all across the United States and never being able to sleep fully throughout the night. Klaus rose before Marcel and was showered and dressed by the time his partner stumbled from his bedsheets. To be fair, it wasn’t even dawn but they both knew that they had a long day ahead of them.

Klaus drank his morning coffee while scrolling through his emails. He received one from their supervisor, Vincent Griffith, that a forensic team would meet them at the location site at six-thirty in the morning. He was sending Maddox and Greta along with several other agents, which pleased Klaus. There were few people within the bureau that Klaus actually could stand and those two were of the chosen few; which was probably why Vincent chose to send them.

Marcel stumbled from the bathroom, blurry eyed and with a yawn that told Klaus that he would be the one driving. Klaus grabbed a pair of boots and slid them over his jeans. He grabbed a simple black coat to toss over his Henley. While it was in the middle of June, the mornings still always had a slight chill to them. Klaus quickly filled up two Styrofoam cups with bad coffee and handed one to Marcel. The other agent grunted his thanks while Klaus just chuckled.

“I want donuts.” Marcel muttered in a sleepy tone and Klaus nodded. He chuckled as he picked up the keys to one of the SUV’s and had to all but drag his partner out the door. They quietly drove through town and Klaus parked in one of the many empty spaces near the square. Marcel was scrolling through his emails on his phone; clearly not wanting to move from his seat just yet. Klaus rolled his eyes and crawled out of the SUV and walked up to the small bakery in the center of town.

The bakery front was painted a deep green and was located between what appeared to be a flower shop and a small boutique. The store front gave Klaus old Southern vibes that he typically found in the south. The sign that hung above the store read Bennet’s Bakery and he briefly remembered Liz telling him that Bonnie owned the bakery in town. The sign indicated that it was closed but he could see Bonnie moving in the shop, stalking up the days baked good. Klaus knocked lightly on the door, causing Bonnie to look up. Seeing that it was Klaus, Bonnie moved around the large iron cart that held what Klaus thought to be bagels and walked to the door. She turned the lock and stuck her head out to greet him.

“I apologize for barging in. I know you’re not open, but I was hoping for a small favor.” Klaus asked and Bonnie nodded at him. He did his best to give her an innocent expression, hoping that whatever Caroline had divulged the night before bought him some points in the good column. “My partner and I have a long hike ahead of us. I was hoping to purchase some donuts?”

“Sure, come in.” She stepped aside and allowed Klaus to walk through. Much like the outside, the bakery had a very rustic feel to it. It was small but was filled with the smells of baked goods, coffee and sugar. There was a glass case near the register filled with brownies, scones and donuts. The far wall was littered with an assortment of bagels while there was a cooler that had a bunch of different types of cakes. The flooring was made of hard wood and the walls a soft yellow that made Klaus feel welcomed. “How many?”

“Just a couple, please.” Klaus looked around the bakery again as Bonnie grabbed a small box and put it together. “Are you often here this early?” Klaus asked, trying for small talk, and Bonnie gave a scowl of annoyance. It wasn’t directed at Klaus, but he could tell that Bonnie was not pleased about having to be at work that early in the morning.

“Sometimes. Today I wasn’t supposed to be here but Anna, my baker, decided to call last night and tell me that she can’t come in and since the bread need to be proofed before baking and I’m the owner; here I am.” Bonnie replied. “Despite the fact that I told Anna I was going to need help this week because I wanted to be there with Caroline, but I can’t completely ignore my shop.”

“Of course not. You need to continue with your life, and I know Caroline would not want you to put everything on hold for her.” Bonnie turned and looked at Klaus curiously. She bit her lip as though she wanted to ask something but was debating on whether or not she should get involved. “How was she this morning?”

“Fine. She was still asleep.” Klaus nodded and Bonnie smirked. “Although given the fact that I crushed up a sleeping pill and put it in her food, that could explain why.” Klaus snorted at that and actually laughed out loud.

“Did you just admit to drugging your friend to a federal agent?”

“Liz told me to do it.” Bonnie replied quickly, appearing completely unashamed by her actions. In truth, Klaus probably would have done the same thing; especially since it was clear that Caroline was too stubborn to take the pills herself. However, he never would have admitted it out loud to someone who could, in theory, press criminal charges against her. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“Should I?” Klaus replied cheekily at Bonnie’s grin. They both knew that he wouldn’t. He had far more important things to focus on than Bonnie’s small confession. Bonnie finished boxing up the donuts and handed them to Klaus. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house.” Bonnie told him with a kind voice. “The only payment I ask is that you find this bastard who hurt Caroline and killed those women. I spent the last few days holding my best friend because of the trauma she suffered. I want this asshole found.”

“You have my word that I will do my best to find him.” Klaus took the pink box from Bonnie and gave her a soft smile. “Thank you for the donuts. My partner will be very appreciative. He is not exactly the most pleasant person in the mornings. Sleeps like a rock and would continue to do so if it was not for me waking him up.” Bonnie nodded and Klaus turned toward the doors and left the bakery. When he climbed back into the SUV, handing the box of donuts to Marcel, he could see that his partner was more awake.

“Confirmation of Stefan Salvatore’s alibi came back. He was in Chicago during Caroline’s abduction. So, looks like the Salvatore brothers are in the clear.” Marcel handed over his phone for Klaus to read the email that was sent from Slater, their technical support, at their field office and who was responsible for contacting Stefan’s alibi. “I also asked Slater to run background checks on all the citizens of Mystic Falls. He said it would take a bit, but he will get it done.”

“Good thinking.” Klaus replied as he turned the SUV on. The pair drove through the town while Marcel continued to drink his now cold coffee; Klaus cursing himself for not stopping and picking up more coffee on the way. Once he drove just outside the town’s boundaries, Klaus saw two similar vehicles to theirs’ parked on the side of the road. Knowing that it was the forensic team and additional agents, Klaus pulled up beside them.

Klaus and Marcel climbed out of the vehicle and walked over to the agents who were at the back of their SUV. Maddox was a bulky man of few words. Klaus had worked well with him over the years, mainly because Maddox did not speak to many people. He did his job, made his reports and never caused a fuss. Klaus respected that. Greta, on the other hand, was hardly silent. She was flirty and had a devious side that made Klaus’s toes curl. If she wasn’t the best forensic scientist the FBI had, he would have refused to work with her long ago. While Klaus made it clear that he did not like Greta, he dealt with her, nonetheless. Klaus nodded to the other agents but did not bother introducing himself, only recognizing a few, instead allowing Marcel to do it for him.

Once the agents were ready, they made their way into the woods. Klaus and Marcel mapped out the way Caroline had taken them through the woods the night before. It was not necessarily a difficult walk, a straight shot, but neither of the agents felt the desire to get lost in the woods. The placement of the Lockwood tunnels was convenient. It was not too difficult to find if one knew where they were going, but deep enough in the woods that it would be rare for someone to simply stumble across them unless they were trying to find something. Given that fact that the entrance was well hidden; Klaus could understand why the deputies did not find it when they conducted their search party; since they were looking for a body and not underground tunnels.

The woods had an eerie feel to them in the early morning. As a child, Klaus lived near rolling hills in a small English town that was also surrounded by woods. There was almost a mystical feel to it and the sun slowly began to peek through the trees. Morning dew was prevalent in the air and the smell of dirt and bark assaulted his senses. The way the shadows hung and moved with the progressing morning made Klaus unnerved. He supposed that his destination was what was causing the discomfort and not the woods themselves but the ball that was forming in the pit of his stomach did not help matters.

Slowly, they approached the Lockwood tunnels and Klaus could feel the dread come over him. He was thankful Marcel was there because no matter how hard he tried to remain objective, he knew that he was going to see Caroline being held down there. He knew the extent of her injuries. He knew what she looked like the day she walked into the police station after breaking her own wrist to get free. Klaus knew how the killer murdered his victims and he also knew what he did to the bodies once became nothing more than a corpse.

It was moments like this, when he started down at that dirt covered stone steps that made him really hate his job.

“Are you ready for this?” Marcel asked Klaus, stirring him from his musings. Klaus nodded to his partner and allowed him to go down the steps first. Maddox put down his thick black bag and pulled out a couple of flashlights. Klaus took one, thanking Maddox who only grunted in response. He pulled out a pair of purple elastic gloves, put them on and followed Marcel down the stairs; leaving at least three agents at the top, ensuring that no one attempted to lock either Klaus or Marcel inside.

The first thing Klaus noticed was an old, rotted wooden door that had been pushed open. Holding the flashlight up to the door, Klaus could see scratch marks on the side of the wood, and he remembered Caroline’s words from the day before about how she had to dig herself out. He could picture her clawing at the wood; the imagine caused bile to rise in Klaus’s throat. Beside him, a flash went off and Greta was holding a camera up, capturing the imagine of the scratch marks.

Klaus turned towards Marcel and he could see the same grim look on his face that Klaus had. They both were thinking the same thing, picturing Caroline clawing her way to freedom. Instead of dwelling on the marks, they continued making their way down the dark tunnel, hearing Greta’s camera clicking behind them. Klaus lifted the flashlight up high enough to cast a shadow down the tunnel. There was no light in the tunnels at all but instead a terrifying darkness that consumed him; Klaus could feel the evil rolling off the stone walls. An agent behind Klaus, pulled out his flashlight, adding light and made navigating the tunnel easier.

Nothing remarkable could be seen as they got further down the tunnel. The walls were made of stone and dirt; having been crafted by man two hundred or so years prior. It wasn’t too long of a walk; the sound of Greta’s camera keeping them company as they went. At the end of the tunnel there was a wooden door that appeared so old, Klaus wondered if touching it would cause it to fall off its hinges. Slowly, Klaus pushed the door aside in order to pass through.

Inside was what appeared to be a circle room; almost like a man-made cave. Unlike the tunnel, there were camping lanterns stationed around the cellar and once Klaus turned them on, a soft light lit up the cellar. Klaus remembered Caroline’s words from the previous night and how these tunnels were used to hold slaves during the civil war. On the far end of the room, there was a cell. Iron bars stood from floor to ceiling and a cell door that was wide open; the lock on the door broken.

Stepping inside the cell, Klaus felt rage begin to linger under his skin. The cell was small but had enough room to cram a small bed that was pressed against the stone wall. It had a couple grey blankets, a few pillows, and sheets that where in a desperate need of cleaning. There was a battery-operated heater located near the bed and Klaus bent down to look at it. He clicked it on for a second before turning it off again once he realized that it was operational. He stood to his full height and looked over to the bed again. A small lantern, similar to the one he had turned on outside the cell, was perched at the end of his bed.

Klaus’s imagination went wild. He could see Caroline curled up on that bed so clearly; her back pressed against the stone while her left hand was cuffed to the bars at where located to the head of the bed. He reached out lightly and touched the bars. Clipped to the bars was a set of metal handcuff; still locked together. Sitting down upon the bed, Klaus handled the cuffs and noticed that there was still dried blood on the metal; Caroline’s blood from when she broke her own wrist to be free of her prison. Klaus could almost hear the breaking of her bones as he sat there. He looked over his shoulder, placing the cuff back on the pillow, and saw etchings on the stone wall.

Names. Each of their names were carved into the stone wall. The writing was different, telling Klaus that it was not the killer who carved the names. Klaus moved the pillows around lightly and saw a series of rocks on the ground; anyone of them could have been used to carve the names. He looked back to the names and read each one of them. Vicki. April. Andi. Cami. But the last words were not Caroline’s name. Klaus’s lips twitched upward humorlessly. Caroline was not going to add her name to that list, instead tell her killer exactly how she felt.

Fuck you.

“Klaus. Come look at this.” Marcel’s voice chimed through the cell door; causing the man in question to snap out of his daze. Klaus stood from the bed and walked out of the cell; Greta stepping inside, snapping pictures of everything inside. Marcel was standing by what appeared to be a large, old wooden barrel, beside it on the ground was a carboard box; filled with unpackaged syringes. “There is at least a couple dozen syringes here. However, all the Dilaudid is missing. I think he used the barrel to prep the Dilaudid before going into the cell to injecting it.”

“All the Dilaudid is gone? Even empty bottles?”

“Yes.” Marcel looked at him. “What are you thinking?”

“He came back here.” Klaus replied, looking around the man-made cave. In the corner was a wooden chair and a bucket. On the chair was a tray and plates that Klaus assumed he used to feed his victims. “He knew Caroline got out and came back here to get the bottles of Dilaudid. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to take everything, it would draw to much attention; especially since we were in town. He took what evidence as most important.”

“Why the Dilaudid though?” Marcel mused. “Perhaps it can be traced? We ruled out a medical professional because he was blowing the veins when he injected the medication. But if the Dilaudid can be traced back to a specific source, then that means he must have got it from someone in the field? Do you think he has a partner?”

“No.” Klaus shook his head. “Caroline only ever saw one man. Never two. But I think you’re right. Someone obtained the Dilaudid for him. Which means that someone in this town knows who the killer is. If we can find out who obtained the Dilaudid for him and get them to crack; we might have him.” Klaus’s fingers balled into a fist. “Greta!”

“Yes?”

“Make sure everything is bagged and collected. I want nothing left behind. Take everything back to D.C with you.” Greta nodded, and began taking photos of the boxes of syringes. He turned to one of the agents who followed them down into the cellar. “Help her and make sure nothing is uncounted for.” Klaus all but ran out of the cellar, Marcel trailing behind him. “I think it is time we spoke to Tyler Lockwood.”

The anger that was pulsing around him made the hike back to their SUV pass by quickly. Marcel said nothing, knowing that his partner needed to cool off. It wasn’t the first time that he had seen him close to losing his temper and was surprised that Klaus was not punching his fist into a tree or tossing rocks into the distance. There were always moments in each case they worked that Klaus just couldn’t control the rage that overtook him; only out matched but his desire to take monsters like these down and make them pay for the suffering they caused. When Klaus climbed into the SUV, slamming the door behind him. He drove for a few minutes before speaking again.

“What do we know about Tyler Lockwood?”

“His father was the Mayor until he died a few years ago from a sudden brain aneurism. His mother was elected shortly after that.” Marcel replied, raising an eyebrow at the clear nepotism by the towns people. “Tyler himself went to college at Whitmore for political science. Shocker there. Up until a year ago he was engaged to Caroline Forbes. She kicked him out and he has been living back with his mother since.”

“Job?”

“Assistant city manager.” Marcel snorted and Klaus couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. “Clearly he works for his mother with anticipation that one day he will run for Mayor. His social media shows that he is in a new relationship with a woman named Olivia Parker.” Marcel showed him his phone and a woman with curly blonde hair and soft grey eyes peered through the screen. “Seems that he has a thing for blondes.”

“Sounds like a boy who has never worked for a single thing in his life.” Klaus replied, as he pulled up to the Lockwood manor. While it was not as impressive as the Salvatore Boardinghouse, the manor still had old southern beauty to it. It was made of deep red brick with a large white front door and tall white pillars lining the front of the house. There were several cars in the front drive and Klaus parked the SUV in line with the other vehicles.

“Let me guess, still not as impressive as the Mikaelson Manor back in jolly old England?” Marcel teased and Klaus just rolled his eyes, not willing to reply; an action that Marcel only took as confirmation to his theory. His small laughter only had Klaus smiling, something they both knew eased the tension he was feeling.

The two agents climbed the brick stairway and knocked on the front door, noticing that at least this house did not have an obnoxious knocker on the front. Marcel muttered that it was such pity just in time for a tall, middle aged woman to answer the door. She had shoulder length brown hair with streaks of blonde running through it. She wore a tight pencil skirt and a dark blue blouse; lined with a set of pearls that probably cost more than Klaus’s monthly salary. She looked everything like a politician’s wife turned politician herself.

“Can I help you?”

“Mayor Carol Lockwood?” Marcel asked and she nodded. “I’m Agent Marcel Gerard and this is my partner Agent Klaus Mikaelson. Is Tyler home? We were hoping to have a word with him.”

“He is here but we have company. Would it be possible for you to speak with him later?” Carol asked and the two agents just looked at her with disbelieving eyes. While they had been met with hostility and flat out refusal at their request on almost every case, they had never been asked to leave and return at a later date because of company. It was the south, but hospitality only went so far.

“No.” Klaus replied simply and pulled out the warrant from his jacket pocket. He handed her the piece of paper and stepped over the threshold, not caring if he brushed her shoulder as he went. The foyer was large and had high ceilings, a large staircase and marble flooring.

“Excuse me? What are you doing?!”

“Mom? What is going on?” A voice chimed in from the large archway in the foyer. Tyler Lockwood looked exactly as he did the day at the hospital when he caused a scene outside Caroline’s hospital room. He was dressed in slacks and a white button down that made Klaus wonder if he dressed himself or if his mother picked out his clothes. In the back of Klaus’s mind, he knew he was being unfair but his bitterness at the knowledge that he hurt Caroline overshadowed that. Not only that, but it was clear to Klaus that Tyler was still be holding onto his mother’s coat strings. “Agents, what can we do for you?”

“We would like a word Mr. Lockwood, if you wouldn’t mind.” Klaus replied in a tone that he had no options but to speak with them. Tyler eyed him from head to toe, sizing him up as though he was realizing that he was not the alpha male in the room. He could see that he wanted to refuse; to tell Klaus no but couldn’t. Klaus could see the consequences flashing behind his brown eyes and the memory of Klaus having Tyler escorted from the hospital still fresh in his mind. Klaus could make his life very difficult and while his mother was the mayor of a small town in Virginia, Klaus had the FBI behind him.

“Of course. Follow me.”

“Tyler. The guests!” Carole hissed harshly to her son. Marcel strolled through the threshold and took the warrant that was still clutched in her hands from her and ignored her.

“It will be fine, Mom. You go and sit with them. I’ll talk with the agents.” Tyler responded and jerked his head at the agents to follow him. Klaus and Marcel easily followed Tyler towards the back of the house, passing a large dining area in the process. Inside, Klaus could see Pastor Young, Matt Donovan and Andi Star’s parents gathered around a table that was filled with pastries and coffee. “Mom invited the families of the victims, hoping to show that the towns support them and if they need anything, all they have to do is ask. She thought hosting a small brunch was the way to accomplish that.”

“How sweet.” Klaus replied in a sarcastic tone; in the back of his mind he was wondering if it was an election year. He looked towards the room that the mayor had congregated people inside of and realized that he did not see Liz or Caroline inside. “If this brunch was to show the mayor’s support, why are the Forbes’s absent?”

“Mom thought it would be insensitive to invite them…since, Caroline survived.” Tyler stated in an awkward tone as he opened a door and lead them inside what appeared to be an office. It was larger than the director of the FBI’s office and far more elaborate. Instead of chairs, facing the desk, there was a full seating area complete with sofas, a coffee table and throw pillows. It looked more like the Queen’s sitting room where she served tea than the office of a small-town mayor. “What can I do for you?”

Marcel handed Tyler the warrant and took a seat on one of the sofas. Much like he had done at the Salvatore house, Klaus paced the room. Part of him wanted to sit behind the desk to show Tyler exactly who was in charge. However, by his demeanor before they entered the mayor’s office, Tyler knew his place in this investigation and what the consequences would be if he refused to corporate. Klaus was unsure if that set warning bells off in his head or if he wanted to be suspicious of him. Klaus wondered at the change from the cocky man he had met at the hospital.

“Yesterday afternoon, Ms. Forbes lead us to one of the Lockwood cellars on your property.” Marcel told Tyler in an easy tone while Klaus took in the room. On the far right stood a tall bookshelf that held several leather-bound volumes that by the spines, Klaus could tell that they were unused. Not of speck of dust could be found and despite the fact that the volumes were unread, they were cleaned often. Pictures lingered around the room but lacked any sort of personal touch. The office, much like the other parts of the house Klaus had seen, felt showy and empty; making Klaus wonder if this was a theme that occurred often in the town’s most prominent families. “We obtained a warrant and this morning searched it and discovered that the victims had been held there prior to their murder.”

“Shit.” Tyler whispered, sinking down onto the couch. He put his hands into his hands and shook his head. Both agents stood there watching him for a second, allowing him time to collect his thoughts. Every movement was studied and calculated. When he pulled his head up, Klaus could see a million different thoughts running through his mind. Something was playing behind those brown eyes. “What was down there?”

“That’s classified.” Marcel stated smoothly and Tyler pursed his lips. “Are there any more cellars or tunnels on your property that we should be made aware of? If so, we are going to want to search them.”

“Yes. There are five in total. Two are caved in through and have been for years.” Tyler stood up and walked towards the desk. He opened a few drawers and pulled out a key. He walked over to an old painting that Klaus assumed was some Lockwood ancestor of sorts and took the painting off the wall. There was a safe behind the painting and Tyler opened the safe easily. He shuffled through a few things and pulled out a small leather binder that was tied with a small leather strap. Tyler untied the binder and rooted through several papers. “We keep the deed to the house and a few other things in here; including a detail on the surrounding property. Here.” Tyler handed Marcel a list of what appeared to be the cellars among other various landmarks on the Lockwood property. “All the cellars and tunnels should be listed on there as well as their locations. Search wherever you need.”

“Thank you.” Klaus took the list from Marcel’s hand and scanned over it. He pulled out his phone and took a screenshot of it, sending it to Maddox with instructions to have the agents stay behind and wait for them to search the remaining cellars. “Who all knows about these?”

“Honestly, I can’t answer that. We don’t advertise the cellars or tunnels. Mom feels that it would bring up bad options on our ancestors; because of what the cellars were used for.” Tyler informed the agents, avoiding looking at Marcel as though he would be offended about the subject he was dancing around.

“You mean the fact that were used to hide slaves?” Marcel asked in an unbothered tone. Klaus knew Marcel well and they both knew that he was descended from slaves during the Civil War. It was a fact that Marcel had come to terms with long ago but also did not like being reminded of it, especially by a man of privilege. Despite all of that, he was not about to let Tyler see that side of him.

“Yes.” Tyler nodded. “I can’t really give you a list of people who know about it because we don’t press charges against everyone who walks through the woods on our property. We would have to charge half the town and that would take too much time.”

“Fair point.” Klaus replied, eyeing Tyler. There was something he was withholding, and Klaus was not in the mood to play games with him. Images of the tunnels were far to fresh and Klaus wanted to hold Tyler responsible for their existence. “What are you not telling us?”

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. Lockwood, if you know something. Tell us. Us finding out later will only be worse for you in the long run.” Tyler was silent for a moment, and the agents could see the decision going through his mind; back and forth.

“Okay. I may have shown the cellars to a few people.” Tyler paused. “Specifically, woman.” Both Marcel and Klaus looked at Tyler in incredulity. After a second, Marcel started to laugh lightly as though he was highly amused, but Klaus could tell that by the tone that his partner was anything but.

“Let me understand you. You would take woman hiking through the woods and show them cellars that your ancestors used to hold slaves?” Marcel asked as though he was trying to understand him better. “To what purpose? To get laid?” Tyler nodded and Marcel just shook his head in disbelief. “Who was the last one?”

“Caroline. She actually gave me hell when I took her there. She was far from impressed.” Tyler replied, honestly. “I haven’t been down there in years. Caroline and I started dating in college and then eventually got engaged. I had no need to go down there anymore.”

“What about Ms. Parker? Your current girlfriend?” Klaus asked.

“She has never been down there.” Tyler replied, taken aback slightly. His eyes shifted between Marcel and Klaus, looking suspicious for the first time. “How do you know about Liv?”

“Was she the woman who you cheated on Caroline?”

“What? No.”

“Who was she? Did you take her down there?”

“Hayley? No, no Hayley as far as I know has never been down there.”

“Hayley?”

“Marshall.” Tyler held up his hands as though he was defending himself. “What are you accusing me of? I didn’t do anything. I admit that leading woman down there in hopes of sex was a douche of a move, but I grew up a lot since then. I stopped doing that after Caroline and I got serious.”

“And yet you still cheated on her.” Klaus snapped back. It was a rash comment and he knew that he would have to watch his tone if he did not want this interview to end the same way the interview with Damon ended; with the fatal lawyer request.

“I regret that. Hayley and I, it was stupid, and I have tried to make it up to Caroline since, but she refuses to allow me a second chance.” Tyler genuinely seemed sincere and Klaus did not know if that made him dislike him more. “I ended things with Hayley after Caroline caught us. I thought that maybe we could work things out. Get back together but she wants nothing to do with me.”

“And what does any of this have to do with you leading woman down to those cellars? If you no longer exercise that practice?” Klaus asked, trying to steer the questioning back towards the investigation.

“Vicki and I used to mess around in high school. It was nothing serious. She had a crush on me despite dating Jeremy Gilbert. I used that. We would use the Lockwood cellars as a meeting place.” Tyler admitted. “We wanted to keep things quiet. It was just sex at the time and ended before we left high school. I don’t know if she kept going down there or not.”

“I see.” Klaus replied, looking Tyler over. “So, you and Vicki used to have sex in high school, what about after?”

“No. Once I went off to college, I started dating Caroline.”

“You’ve already proven that infidelity is not an issue for you. I just wanted to check. Excuse me if I find your sincerity questionable.” Klaus told him with a cynical smile. He was scrutinizing him and Klaus had him pegged. He had seen dozens of men just like him before. Rich, with a sense of entitlement and having the audacity to believe that forgiveness should just be handed to them without having to earn it first. He was everything Klaus could have become but didn’t, a fact that Klaus did not want to admit to himself. The fact that Tyler was trying to be on his best behavior now intrigued Klaus. Tyler saw the damage that was done to Elena when the news of her affair with Damon became public and he clearly wanted to prevent that from happening to him. “What about drugs? Did you use those cellars to get high?”

“What?”

“Drugs. Maybe heroin, Dilaudid or meth?”

“I smoked weed in high school a few times but nothing since and it was never down there.” Tyler replied in a confused tone. “I never touched anything harder than that.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”

“Half the town. There isn’t much to do around here. Take your pick, someone is bound to be one something.”

“Like Vicki?”

“Yeah. Her drug habits were well known in town. She started getting messed up in high school.” Tyler paused and Klaus could read between the lines. Vicki would be high whenever they had sex and there was a fine line between consent and sleeping with someone under a drug induced haze. “But I haven’t really spent much time with her since we graduated.”

“Do you know where she would get her supply?”

“No.” Klaus watched him but Tyler was doing everything he could to keep his face passive. Before him was a serial cheater who had two politicians for parents. Lying was second nature for him. Caroline was an intelligent woman that if she had not caught Tyler in the act, never would have suspected his infidelity. It pained Klaus to admit that Tyler was a good liar and he was questioning whether or not he was being truthful.

“You knew both Vicki and Caroline intimately. What about April Young?” Marcel asked in a bored tone but studied him carefully. Both men were watching for the slightest hint of acknowledgment; however, Tyler did nothing but shake his head.

“No. Honestly? I forgot about April’s existence after we graduated high school. She was not someone who particularly stood out.” Tyler admitted and both of the men believed him. April, while pretty, did not have the same beauty as the other woman that would have caused Tyler to take a notice. “Mom had to remind me who she was when her name was among the list of victims.”

“What of Andi Star? Ever have a relationship with her?”

“Andi? No. I mean I knew her, but everyone did. She was the town’s success story. Mom liked to roll the red carpet out for her whenever she came to town. She and I never had any sort of relationship. I never even slept with her. I think the most we ever did was maybe dance at some town function or something, but I can’t be sure.”

“What about the name Camille O’Connell?”

“Never heard of her before this mess started.” Tyler replied. “Look, I admit it. I’m not exactly the best at relationships. I slept around and it wasn’t until Caroline called me on it, tossing the ring I bought her in my face that I realized that I messed up. But this, I didn’t do this. I’m not a murder.”

Both Klaus and Marcel just looked at him; something apparent became obvious to both of them. Tyler was terrified. The question became; what was he scared of? His dark eyes were darting between the two of them as though they were going to pounce on him. There was something lurking beneath the surface that Tyler wanted to tell them, and they could see it. They waited but Tyler apparently decided that he was doing speaking to them.

“Where were you on the evening of June 5th?”

“My girlfriend and I were here.”

“Which one? Hayley Marshall or Olivia Parker.” Klaus asked, not being able to help himself. While he did not like Tyler, the man did not stir anger inside of Klaus like Damon had. Perhaps it was because, despite his fidelity issues, Tyler shown no history of violence. That did not make him innocent and Klaus would keep an open mind about him until there was proof clearing him completely. However, that did not stop Klaus from the enjoyment of toying with him.

“I was with Liv. I told you. Hayley and I are over.” Tyler snapped. He stood and walked over to his mother’s desk. He grabbed a notepad and a piece of paper, jotting something down. He handed it to Klaus and gave him a dead stare. “Here is her number. Call her if you’d like.”

“Oh, we will.” Klaus took the slip of paper from his hands, looking down at the digits he had written. He tossed Tyler a smirk that was meant to irritate him; for no other reason that it gave Klaus joy to see Tyler squirm. Klaus handed the note over his shoulder to Marcel, who took it easily; already typing the number into his phone and passing the information off to Slater.

“Contact us if you remember anything else Mr. Lockwood.” Marcel told him without look up from his phone. With one last calculating look, Klaus turned from Tyler and headed towards the office door; opening and allowing Marcel to step through first. On the other side, he could see Carol speaking with Matt and Pastor Young; all three tossing questioning eyes at the office door. Andi’s parents were nowhere to be found.

“One last thing.” Klaus turned from the curious gazes of the onlookers. “When we met at the hospital the other day, you introduced yourself as Caroline’s fiancé. Tell me, how do you think Ms. Parker would feel if she learned that you still viewed Caroline as the woman you intend to marry?”

Not allowing Tyler to answer, Klaus left the office and passed by the mayor and her guest, knowing full well that the three of them heard his final question. It was petty but the sheer look of disappointment on Carol’s face brought a hint of satisfaction to Klaus’s mood. Toying with Tyler rounded out his bad temper from back in the woods. It was petty but frankly, Klaus did not care.

“Well he is a douchebag.” Marcel stated as they made their way towards their SUV. Marcel took the keys from Klaus, deciding that it was his turn to drive back to the edges of the Lockwood property. Klaus happily handed them over, the feeling of exhaustion creeping up on him.

“He has been involved with two out of the five victims and probably tried to sleep with Andi at some point, but was shot down. I don’t know if it is a coincidence or motivation. It’s a small town and there is bound to be some overlap.” Klaus replied and Marcel nodded in agreement. There was a slight scowl forming on Marcel’s lips that Klaus could see. He was not surprised; Tyler was the exact type of man Marcel despised. “You hated him.”

“Absolutely.” Marcel replied and his slight southern twang that all but vanished when he moved to D.C came out. Marcel started the SUV and began to pull out of the “Southern white man of privilege who likes to sugarcoat his family history. Of course, I hated him but that is irrelevant. Do you think he is our guy? Nothing about him screamed serial killer but they rarely ever do.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Like I said, he was romantically involved with two of the victims and had easy access to the cellars that they were held in, but he does not strike me as someone who would use street drugs let alone a narcotic like Dilaudid. If he is the killer, or knows who it is, how would he have gotten them?” Klaus voiced his thoughts, rubbing his forehead; fighting the headache that was threatening to form. “I think he is hiding something, but I don’t know what.”

“You have no idea what?”

“Do you?”

“No. Theories but nothing concrete.” Marcel added and Klaus nodded. They drove through town again and headed towards the outskirts of town. They were meeting the agents back at the edge of the Lockwood property to search the additional cellars. They both knew that it would take a bit of time to find them, but the information Tyler passed to them provided enough direction to begin looking. “Let’s get this over with and head back to the station. I’m sure Liz is waiting with batted breath to find out if we found anything.”

“To be honest. I’m surprised she didn’t just show up herself.” Klaus muttered but in the back of his mind, he knew she wouldn’t; especially with Bonnie being called into the bakery so early. Liz was not about to leave her daughter alone, especially when Caroline was passed out on sleeping pills.

By the time Marcel and Klaus were done searching all of the cellars, the sun was beginning to set. Much like Tyler had said, two of the tunnels were caved in and the rest held nothing of interest. They were smaller and beyond similar cells in each, they did not hold the same interest as the one where Caroline and the others had been held. Klaus knew that the killer was unlikely to go back to the first one but might try and move to another if he took another victim. Part of Klaus wondered if they could convince Vincent to allow the additional agents to remain in Mystic Falls but he doubted it; lack of resources or some other bureaucratic excuse. Either way, it was worth the request; if it came from Marcel.

The station was quiet and in the process of shift change when they entered. Klaus and Marcel weaved through the officers and made their way towards the conference room with takeout from the Grill in hand. While it was not the worst food Klaus had ever had, several days of it in a row was tiring. Seeing that the two agents were both starving, only having ate the donuts from Bonnie’s bakery earlier in the day, he would make do.

With his mind on food, Klaus almost missed seeing Caroline sitting in her mother’s office. He had to do a double take when she caught his eye. At first Klaus felt his stomach leap at the sight of her, the memory of their almost kiss surfacing in his mind. However, when he was able to take in her appearance the elated feeling that bubbled inside him burst. He had hoped that with the sleeping pill, whether it was willfully taken or not, would have given Caroline some rest but she appeared to be startled and terrified. She was sitting in one of Liz’s chairs, her knees brought to her chest and she appeared to be biting at her nails; a habit he had yet to see from her so far. Her hair hung in a loose ponytail and she wore a loose T-Shirt and jeans that looked as though she just tossed them on.

“Here. Take these. Call Vincent and see if he will give us the extra men.” Marcel nodded, his eyes flickering between Klaus and Caroline. Klaus could tell that he wanted to say something but refrained; knowing that it would be ignored. He took the food and headed towards the conference room while Klaus made his way towards Liz’s office; knocking on the closed door. Liz bid him entry and he slowly stepped inside.

Seeing Caroline up-close only confirmed his fears. She looked worse for wear. Her eyes were red, and she clearly had been crying. Her position told Klaus that she was doing her best to hold herself together but found it harder than she was expecting. Klaus wanted to walk over to her and take her into his arms; offering the comfort she clearly needed but was unsure of his welcome. He had feelings for Caroline, that much was clear, but he was also in Mystic Falls to do a job. It was a fine line to walk in order to balance the two.

“Did you find anything of interest Klaus?” Liz asked and Klaus nodded, not taking his eyes from Caroline. He took a seat in the vacant chair and turned it to face Caroline; knowing full well that Liz’s eyes were on both of them. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and reached out to take Caroline’s uninjured hand into his.

“Talk to me.” Klaus’s voice was low and gentle. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Liz looking at their linked hands, but he did not care. All he could see was the grief written all over Caroline’s face and needed to know what was wrong. “Are you okay?”

“No.” It was a useless question and they both knew it; but Klaus needed her to open up to him. “I woke up around noon. Mom had already left for the station, but Bonnie was on the couch. Everything seemed fine. I dressed and let Enzo out. I went to get the mail and I found that inside.”

Caroline nodded towards an envelope resting on Liz’s desk. Klaus reached over and picked up the envelope. It was a typical white envelope that Klaus could find at any general store. It was marked with Caroline’s name and address but there was no return address on the upper left-hand corner. It was stamped and mailed; telling Klaus that this was not hand delivered. This could have been sent from anywhere. Klaus opened the envelope up and pulled out a sheet of paper. It was a note, typed on a computer and completely unremarkable outside of the words that were printed on it.

Caroline,

I miss you. Why did you leave? Did you not like the home I made for you? Where you not comfortable? I gave you everything and yet, you still left. This is your home. You belong here with me, not wandering to places where it is not safe. Only I can keep you safe.

You’re mine, Caroline. One way or another, I will have you home. You will never leave me again and will forever be by my side. They took the others from me, but I refuse to allow them to take you from me too. You belong here with me. Soon you will see to reason.

See you soon, Your only friend.

“What does he mean that he will see me soon?” Caroline whispered as Klaus read the letter. He gripped her hand tightly, his knuckles turning white. If he was crushing her hand, Caroline said nothing; not willing to let go. Klaus could see that she was doing everything in her power to keep calm and not have a complete breakdown. While the emotions cursing through him caused him difficulty in remaining objective, Klaus tried to focus on the words in the letter and not how good it felt to hold her hand. “He is going to come after me, isn’t he?”

“No one is going to hurt you.” Klaus said. He turned his eyes toward Liz and her fear was radiating from her body. He could tell that she was thinking of every possible way to keep her daughter safe but was coming up with nothing. Klaus could understand how lost Liz must feel, having been there himself. The desire to chase down this monster was pushing its way to the surface. “Wait here.”

Klaus stood and left the office. He made his way through the police station with a furious pace. He entered the conference room and the smell of his dinner assaulted him; but any hunger he had had been replaced by a ball forming in the pit of his stomach. Marcel was on the phone and Vincent’s voice sounded through the speaker. Klaus tossed the note down on the table and Marcel picked up it, reading it.

“Jesus. He is taunting her.” Marcel replied and then proceeded to read it to their supervisor over the phone. Klaus explained that it was post marked and mailed to her without a return address; but not hand delivered. It was be difficult to trace without the return address. It could have been dropped into any mailbox in town.

“Clearly.” Vincent replied in a stilted tone. He went silent on the other end and both Klaus and Marcel could hear him typing. “I’ll have agents Rosza and Vanchure drive down in the morning. The agents that I sent this morning can stay in town for the time being. I can ensure that her house is guarded at all times.” Klaus paused, taken aback. He expected more fight from Vincent, citing red tape and not enough funding; not easy cooperation. “I want this to stay quiet. The director is concerned that if the masses discover that Andi Star was murdered by a serial killer, Mystic Falls will be overrun by journalist and that will only make catching him that more difficult.”

“Journalist are protective of their own.” Marcel told them. “We will do what we can to keep this quiet. The local paper has printed some articles about the murders but nothing more widespread than that. I can contact them to see if they will not contact larger papers or news outlets. Maybe we can keep this contained if we promise an interview or something when this is done.” Klaus shot Marcel a look and nodded. That was all he needed to hear before turning and all but storming out of the conference room. He would let Marcel iron out the details; Klaus’s first concern would be Caroline.

“We are going to post agents on your home at all times.” Klaus told them the second he walked back into Liz’s office. Gone was the sympatric and compassionate man who wanted nothing more than to ease Caroline’s pain and was replaced with the agent who was so focused on the job that he would do anything to complete it. “It would be best if you do not go out alone or leave the house without someone with you.”

“You want me to be a prisoner.” Caroline asked and her choice of words ate at Klaus. Images of the case she had been trapped in shot through his memory like a bullet, striking him where it hurt most. Looking at Caroline, Klaus knew that this was a woman who should not be held back; someone who deserved the world laid at her feet and not stripped from her as it had been.

“No.” Klaus replied, his voice forceful and his eyes held such conviction that Caroline almost believed him. “You are never going to be a prisoner again. The agents are to keep you safe, not hinder your movements. When this is all over and we find him, I promise you that you will never be forced in a cage again.”

“You saw it. You went down there.” It wasn’t a question; Caroline knew the answer. Klaus understood something about her in that moment. She was brave and fearless but that tiny underground cell would always haunt her. It was meant to be the place she was going to die in, and no matter of bravery, vengeance or justice would erase that terror from her mind.

“Yes.” There was no point in hiding the truth from her. No matter the amount of pain Caroline was in, Klaus knew that she would be able to handle the truth. One thing that Klaus admired about Caroline, despite having only known her for a few days, was how strong she appeared to be. It was one of the many things that drew him to her; because even in an abandoned dark tunnel, Caroline seemed to be the light at the end of it.

“I need to get out of here.” Caroline stood from her chair abruptly, pulling her hand from Klaus’s grasp and ran from the office. Klaus shot Liz a look, telling her that he would follow her and went after Caroline. He saw her run out of the police station and caught up with her easily as she walked through the parking lot.

“Caroline!” Klaus called after her and his long legs made it easy for him to catch up to her. She stopped when she saw him and brought her arms around herself; trying to hold herself together. She had been so strong the day before, walking in the woods; showing them exactly where she had been held. Now, Klaus wondered if it was too soon. Maybe she was pushing herself too much.

“I can’t stay here Klaus. I feel like I’m suffocating. It’s like the walls are closing in on me. I need to get out of here.”

“Do you trust me?” Klaus asked her and Caroline shot him a questioning look. He could see that she was thinking of the previous day and not just her incident at seeing the entrance of her prison; or climbing out of it. She was thinking of that moment by the car and how they almost kissed. Klaus had replayed that moment over and over again in his thoughts and he knew that Caroline had done the same. “Do you trust me Caroline?”

“Yes.” Caroline told him in a soft tone, the realization startling in her eyes. “Yes. I do.”

“Then come with me.”

#klaroline fanfiction #Wanderlust #Wed. Update #also posted at A03

27 notes · View notes

neoarchipelago · 5 years ago

Text

Blood Red Marker and Binary Code (John wick x reader one shot)

AN: where was I even going with this? Idk, Anon, I hope you enjoy it !

Request: John comes to the reader with a marker, they both love each other but none seems to realize it.

Word count: 3 910

Warnings: cursing, alcohol?

____________

You walked through the enormous hall of the Louvre. The wonderful stone walls, the beautiful ceiling, everything was perfect. The sound of your heels on the floor made you feel powerful, your black dress hugging your curves perfectly. It was after all handmade by one of the best tailors in Paris. You walked through the empty halls, watching every sculpture, every painting that adorned the walls of the museum. You had recently finished a contract and instead of accepting money, that clearly you were tired of having, you asked for another reward. Something unique, that only you would have the right to live, you and maybe Beyonce in her clip, having the Louvre at night only for you.

You've always enjoyed it, you spent hours watching the numerous pieces of art that made your mind travel through history, time and space. You enjoyed the fact that your work made you able to witness such things with such privileges. You watched as you spun around in the middle of such perfect masterpiece, you felt blessed, you felt powerful like a goddess. That was your name in the underground world. The Goddess. You knew how to fight and you were good at it but that's not how you earned your nickname. You were the best hacker in the world. Nothing could escape you, you were omnipotent. You knew everything, saw everything you had proof and files about everyone in the world, even the High table. Even the most confidential files of the underground that were kept written by hand had to, at some point, be sent through computers linked to the satellite.

You sighed closing your eyes for a second. You listened to the deafening silence of the building. You only opened your eyes to sit down on a bench, and then closed them again. Yes you were lucky. You had been an assassin for quite a while now. Your phone suddenly rang as you opened your eyes again. You took the phone in your hand and softly smiled at the name.

"Caleb, why aren't you in bed yet?" You asked a soft smirk on your lips.

"Oh come on (y/n)! It's not that late!" You chuckled at your brother's whining tone.

"You have school tomorrow, you have to go to sleep. I'll be home in a minute alright?" You said as you stood up.

"Wait, I called cuz I need to tell you that someone's here, he wants to see you." You froze and you heart dropped.

"Who's there Caleb?" You said in a cold tone.

"Your friend John Wick, remember the one from a few years ago?"

Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes. How to forget a man like John exactly? He was quite unforgettable.

"Alright, hand him the phone will you Caleb?"

You heard the phone being passed to someone and you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath at the sound of the voice you heard.

"(y/n)."

"John. I need to ask you. Are you here to kill me, or my brother?" You said in a cold voice.

"No. I'd never..." You sighed of relief.

"Alright, i'll be home in 5 minutes." You spoke, cutting him off.

"I'll be waiting."

You hung up and walked back to the hall of the museum, the sound of your heels on the floor echoing through the halls and staircase, the only thing breaking the peaceful silence.

You reached your car, a jaguar F-type, that of course you weren't driving but you had someone driving it for you. After all you've been through you earned it. You smiled at the man. Anyone would have been weird out by him, a tall slim man, with half long hair to the side and completely cut short on the other, tattoos and piercings, and wearing a white shirt with rolled sleeves and a black waistcoat.

''On part déjà madame?" He asked with a smile yet a confused look. (Are we already leaving miss?)

"Oui Jay', je dois rentrer le plus vite possible, tu peux faire ça pour moi s'il-te-plaît ?" You asked as he opened the car door and you sat down. (Yes Jay, i need to go home as fast as possible, could you do that for me please?)

"Je pensais que vous ne me le demanderiez jamais madame!" He answered with a naughty smile as he closed the door, and you rolled your eyes. (I thought you'd never ask miss!)

He sat down on the driver's seat and turned on the car making it roar. You decided to put on your seatbelt because clearly you might have asked the devil to play with fire. The fast start made you groan but you had asked for it after all. The ride home didn't took long, firstly it wasn't that far and secondly Jay had taken your request very seriously. You felt a bit nauseous when you stepped out of the car, but a few deep breaths and you were back on your heels. Jay' threw the keys to another one of your assistants, and opened the building door for you. You had bought an apartment here on the 6th arrondissement de Paris, in a luxurious building, where the two last floors were yours. You reached the elevator with Jay' and he introduced the key that allowed you to push the button to your apartment.

You took another deep breath as the elevator made his way up, and looked at Jay' who gave you a wink. You smirked at him. When the elevator doors opened into your hallway you didn't hesitate a second, stepping in, the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floor. You could hear people talking in your living room, and made your way to the two open french doors. You froze at the entrance watching, amazed, the scene that displayed before you. Your little brother Caleb was on the couch, sitting next to John Wick, THE BABA YAGA, playing Mortal Kombat on PS4. You leaned against the door frame, folding your arms and arching a brow at the scene. Jay' suddenly appeared next to you and you shared a look before softly chuckling. Caleb was a sweet boy, he'd make even the worst killer on this planet turn into a child.

You cleared your throat making your brother jump and John turn to you. Your eyes met his and you tried to avoid blushing as you quickly looked away.

"I thought I told you to go to sleep Caleb?" You asked while arching a brow at the boy.

"I know I know, but wait, I just want to finish this with J-" before he could finish his words the screen displayed a large, red 'Game over'. Caleb groaned at the unfairness of the fight before turning off the console. You smiled softly at him as he passed next to you, mumbling a 'good night' to you and John. You took a few seconds before looking back at John, who had now stood up and was staring at you. You felt his eyes roam over your body and you couldn't deny the heat it raised through you.

You could easily remember how you two had met, in the bar of the Continental. You remember the mess you were in and how things unfolded after that.

You stepped inside of the living room as Jay' vanished quickly. You got closer to John.

"John…" you said staring at him.

"(Y/n)." He said sharing your look.

"What may I owe this pleasure exactly?" You said with a smile.

He smiled back at you. Jay' entered the room, a wine bottle in hand, and two wine cups. He put them down on the marble and gold coffee table in between the couch and the fireplace where the TV hang.

"Merci Jay'." You said nodding as he left the room, closing the two french doors.

"Take a sit, I feel like we have a lot to talk about." You said turning back to John, this time with a serious tone.

He nodded as you both sat on the couch. You poured two glasses of wine and took yours in hand. John was hesitant and you started to worry when he refused to take his and stared at you. No words had been exchanged yet and you felt the air getting heavier. John reached for his pocket and your breath hitched at the sight of the marker he put down on the coffee table. What exactly were you expecting? That he would never ask for a returning favor ? That he was here for you perhaps?

The last thought made your heart ache. John would never be here just for you. After all… you were the only one in love here. You looked at him in the eyes as you sighed. He still looked as perfect as the day you asked for his help. Your heart fluttering at the thought.

"I'm sorry (y/n)." John's raspy voice brought you back to reality.

"Don't be. That's the deal of having a marker I suppose. It had to happen one day." You said taking a sip on the wine and leaning back on the couch.

"Your brother has grown." He said again, with a smile.

You couldn't keep yourself from smiling back.

"He has, hasn't he?" You said sharing a look.

"He looks a lot like you." He added.

"Like me?" You said in a chuckle.

"Yes. He's determined, kind-hearted." John listed as you blushed at the compliments.

"He is the most important thing in my life John." You said in a whisper, looking directly into his obsidian eyes.

"I know. I remember." He said in the same tone.

It had been a few years after all those awful events. You were even younger then, alone taking care of a small blue eyed boy that you were trying to keep safe. You and your brother were orphans, and you had quickly put your talent of hacker into the underground world to win as much money as possible. Many appreciated your work and you had won a lot of clients but you also made a lot of enemies. At some point it had become too dangerous to even leave the Continental where you and your brother had a room. He had been a target to get revenge on you and you would have done anything to keep him safe, even get a marker with the Baba Yaga.

You had met John, who had accepted your marker and helped you get rid of any enemies that wanted you or your brother dead. You remember how you two had become friends, your little brother adored him and you had felt your heart beat faster when you looked into his eyes. You had spent many months together even after that, as friends. Taking care of your brother as you were slowly building your empire. Eventually your paths had gone separate ways, and your heart still aches at the thought. You couldn't deny the feelings that had grown for him since the first time your eyes met.

The way he made you shiver under his gaze, the way he made you feel safe. You remembered the way it almost felt like you three were a family during those moments. It felt like the world was alright. And then he had vanished, saying he had work to do. You weren't angry at him, after all you knew him for being the Baba Yaga, and you didn't expect him to change at all.

"So tell me. What do you need me to do?" You asked, pushing away every thought that roamed your head.

John sat a bit more straight and took a more serious tone. It made you almost shiver to hear his husky voice.

"I have a contract on a target here in Paris. But he is in a very high security building. Cameras and alarms everywhere."

You nodded.

"You need me to help you get through those?"

"Exactly. Is there any way for you to help me through it?" He asked, watching you intensely.

You thought for a minute thinking about the different possibilities and plans you could go through. It didn't sound that hard, it was perfectly manageable. You nodded to him.

"When does it need to be done?" You asked again taking a sip of your wine.

"Tonight."

You slightly choked on your beverage and remembered how John could sometimes be impatient. You sighed, throwing him a dark look. You still had to help him as best as you could.

"Alright. Follow me." You said standing up. You quickly took off your heels though, after all your brother was in bed, and it was no point on waking him up. You walked out of the living room, being greeted by Jay once again.

"Aide moi s'il te plaît. Je dois équipé Monsieur Wick avec une oreillette."(Help me please, I need to equip mister wick with an earpiece.) You said, walking to the far end of the hallway, to the door on the right.

Jay followed you nodding as John stood right behind as well. You looked at the digit pad and threw in a your code as the door finally unlocked.

You stepped into your little cave, your perfect little place. The room was dark, only lit by many screens who displayed various places, people, maps, entire files or even some had just some 0 and 1 running across the screen. A desk was set with a comfy chair, and various monitors were neatly spread across the room with other types of electronics. You sat down on your chair, taking a glance at John who was looking around the room.

"John?" You softly called.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to need the address of the building."

He nodded as he walked towards you. You gave him a pencil and a notepad for him to write down the address for you. You quickly started to do your thing, looking for the IP addresses nearby that location, any possible entry or information on the security the building was provided with.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"Checking if I can grant your wish tonight. I'm checking the difficulty of a possible breach, if the security is high or low. If I can do it tonight or if i'm going to need a bit more of time."

John stayed silent, but you were too focused on your task to even notice him staring at you in fascination. Jay had noticed, and was smiling from the corner of the room.

After a few minutes you managed to get enough information on the security system and overall it wasn't so hard to break in.

"Alright. Let's do this." You said turning your chair to John. Jay approached him, ready to equip him with the necessary attire.

"You will have this device on you. It's an earpiece. You will be able to hear everything I say, and I will hear you as well. I will guide you with my view on the cameras, as I break down the system bit by bit, or otherwise they'll notice me. Do not advance if I don't give you the order to. John. Are you listening to me?" You asked slightly exasperated.

"This looks like the matrix. Was is that?" John asked pointing at the black and green screen that had 0 and 1 running all over.

"That is from the matrix. That is my live screensaver John." You said slightly amused.

He looked at you slightly frowning as you snickered.

"Are you ready?" You asked.

"Yes."

"Do you have your guns?

"What kind of questions is that?" He asked smirking.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. You took a deep breath as Jay nodded your way again, notifying you that John was equipped.

"Alright. Let's get started. Shall we?"

010101 •

John had finally reached the building when you heard him speak through the device.

"I'm here."

"Alright. Give me 5 minutes and you can walk in."

You took a deep breath and got to work. You were used to this, but somehow you were slightly shaking as your fingers pushed the keys on the keyboard. John's safety was in your hands.

"You can go."

You watched through the many screens, John's path through the building as you, step by step, hacked the security system and the cameras to make it look like nothing was happening. You watched John get rid of every security guard you could warn him of as he slowly made his way up to his target. Your heart was beating unusually fast for the task, as you were more anxious than any previous contract you had worked on. You couldn't deny how seeing John work was turning you on maybe just a bit. He looked powerful. But you quickly shook that feeling away, now wasn't the moment.

Reaching the level where his target was situated, he stopped right after stepping out of the elevator.

"Alright. This has much more cameras John. You're going to need to wait a bit longer…" you spoke, getting to work immediately.

"I don't have time (y/n)." You heard him say.

"Be patient please…" you tried.

"Thanks for helping, but I got this now."

You froze as you quickly looked at the screen, seeing John take off the earpiece and… run. You gasped.

"You...PERFECT IDIOT!" you yelled to yourself.

It took you a second to react after your sudden outburst of anger. You still managed to get your mind focus on your work. Thanks to John you had to change the plan. You quickly took the task to completely shut down the security system and cameras, leaving perhaps enough time for John to leave the building. One by one each barrier of the security system shut down and finally the entire building was now completely out of security cameras. You left a small virus as a gift, making sure that it would take time for even the best hackers to fix everything. You were out of breath without even really knowing why. You looked around at the room, at the mess you had created. Even you couldn't see where John was now. You just stared in silence, before whispering a few last words.

"I don't know what would I do if something happened to you John…"

You stood up and left the room. There was no point in staying there anymore. You heard the distinct sound of the door locking itself behind you. You leaned against it for a second, taking a few deep breaths. Should you go check on him? Was he alright? Was he even going to tell you if he was? Or was he simply going to vanish? You shook your head and walked to your room. You were definitely getting sick of being into that stupid dress that seemed to have lost all it's charm to you in the mere time of an evening. You got into pajamas, some shorts and a matching top.

You found yourself unable to lay down at all. You just walked back to the living room where you sat on the couch, sipping on that bottle of wine from earlier. The minutes seemed to stretch like hours. You glanced a few times to your phone, hoping for a message at least. You didn't know how to feel. Angry, furious, anxious, or break down into tears. You wanted to kill the man but also kiss him as if it was the last thing you'd ever do. Tears began to overflow when Jay walked into the living room.

"Madame?"

"Oui Jay?" You spoke trying to hide your current mood.

"Monsieur Wick est en bas et désire vous voir." (Mister wick is down stairs and wishes to see you)

You jumped up when you heard him speak.

"What?" You asked in disbelief.

"I let him in. Just in case." Jay said, his voice tainted in a heavy accent, and a smirk on his face.

You stared at the spot where Jay stood a few seconds ago. John came back? The marker had been fulfilled though. Why? You were lost in thoughts when John's figure finally showed up at the living room's entrance. Your actions spoke faster than your brain and you found yourself throwing him the nearest pillow as tears finally began to fall down your cheeks.

"What the fuck (y/n)?" John asked, slightly confused by the attack.

"What the fuck? I'm not going to yell because Caleb is sleeping, but you are the biggest idiot I've ever had to meet, do you know that?" You spoke out, trying to sound as angry as possible without yelling, frowning as the tears soaked your cheeks.

"And yet you still wouldn't know what to do if something happened to me…"

You froze staring at him wide eyed. How in the whole world had he heard you?

"How..?" You asked confused but unable to move as he stepped forward, still holding the pillow.

"The device still worked. I had taken it out of my ear but put it back in when I realized you put up a mess in their system."

He spoke as he kept walking to you.

You were staring at him, feeling him get closer and closer.

"John…" you tried.

"How long? How long have you been feeling like this?" He asked, now only a few inches from you.

"What, that I've known that you are an idiot?" You whispered, trying to throw the last remains of your pride at him.

He simply smirked and wiped one of your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling, too afraid to open them again as you spoake again.

"Since you helped me a few years ago…"

You knew he was going to reject you, but there's nothing you could do to avoid it now.

"Silly girl."

Yes you were stupid, but hearing him say it hurt more than you thought. It was however completely confusing to you when you felt his lips on yours. You forgot how to breath for a moment, or even how to react. His arms had wrapped around your waist, letting the pillow fall down on the ground with a soft 'thud'. You finally responded to his kiss when your mind started to embrace reality again, your hand reaching to touch his cheek. You felt him pull you in closer as he softly bit your lower lip, making you gasp. The taste of his tongue made you feel dizzy, as the passionate kiss seems to sweep you off your feet. You didn't exactly know how long it lasted, but when you pulled apart you were both slightly out of breath. It took a minute before anything was spoken.

"I never thought you did…" he whispered.

"Why not? You are the one who got away…" you said, feeling your heart ache at the memory.

"I did… because.. I was getting too attached to you and caleb. And I didn't think you would ever see me the way I see you." His words made you smile.

"And how do you see me John?"

"I… love you." You smiled even brighter at his words. Cupping his face with both of your hands.

"You really are an idiot John, cuz I really love you too."

John immediately pulled you back in for a kiss that you have been craving for way too many years. Perhaps this time he'd stay.

---------

Tags:

@thatbemyhouse @magdazwolska

#keanu reeves x reader #john wick #johnwickgif #john wick series #john wick x reader #keanugifs #keanugif #keanu reeves #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic

159 notes · View notes

failes-xtra-bits · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 7

So they take off for Marlas the following morning, after a public hanging that does NOT put Makedon in good spirits. Damen and Laurent evenly matched, riding side by side.

Damen was taller, but nothing could be done about that, Hendric, (the Veretian Herald) had said with an impenetrable expression.

Damen couldn't tell if he was joking. He rode closer to Laurent.

'At Marlas, we’ll stay in adjacent chambers,’ said Damen. ‘It’s protocol.’

‘Of course,’ said Laurent, his eyes also on the road.

Laurent showed no sign of distress, and sat upright in the saddle, as though nothing at all had happened to his shoulder. He spoke charmingly to the generals and even made pleasant conversation in response to Nikandros, when Nikandros spoke to him.

‘I hope the injured boy was returned to you safely.’

‘Thank you, he returned with Paschal,’ said Laurent.

When they reached Delpha...

'Welcome home,’ Nikandros said.

Akielos. He drew in a breath of Akielon air. In months of captivity he had thought of this moment.

Damen glances over at Laurent, who is of course, above it all. To be fair, Delpha used to belong to Vere and the people there are more excited to see him, this must make him feel some kind of way.

Damen doesn't recognize Marlas when they arrive. It's grown lush and green with beautiful wildflowers, so drastically different from when they battled there. Also this.

Damen looked at the courtyard. The parapets were broken down and reshaped. The stonework hacked off. The stone itself carted off for use in new building, the splendid rooftops and towers levelled into an Akielon style. Now it looks bare and barren to him. Laurent does not react to the changes but thanks Nikandros for his welcome.

Inside the household is waiting for them. 2 dozen slaves lining the walls. At first Nikandros is upset because the King's preference is known, until they realize that they are for Laurent. Laurent, ever the gracious guest picks a young slave with the coloring of Damen and Nikandros(hmmm), named Isander.

‘I like that one,’ said Laurent.

The slaves were dressed in the northern style, in light gauzy silks that threaded through the link on their collar and covered very little. Laurent was indicating to the third slave to the left, a dark, bowed head.

‘An excellent choice,’ said Kolnas. ‘Isander, step forward.’

Damen realizing that Isander is pure frowns.

'The slave remains wholly untouched, kept pure for the first use of the Exalted.’

Laurent’s eyes lifted to Damen’s.

‘I never did learn how to command a bed slave,’ said Laurent. ‘Teach me.’

‘They cannot speak Veretian, Your Highness,’ Kolnas explained. ‘In the Akielon language, using the plain form of address is appropriate. To command any act of service is to honour a slave. The more personal the service, the greater the honour.’

‘Really? Come here,’ said Laurent.

Isander rose for the second time, a faint tremor in his body as he came as close as he dared before dropping to the ground again, his cheeks bright red. He looked a little dazed by the attention. Laurent extended the tip of his boot.

‘Kiss it,’ he said. His eyes were on Damen. He's such a little shit, toying with Damen. He knows what he's doing. Poor Isander.

Damen is preparing for the banquet and reflecting on how homecoming is not quite what he expected. I would even say he's feeling a bit misunderstood, alone, his world is bigger now so he doesn't quite fit.

When the last laurel leaf (how did I never see this?) was arranged, the last piece of fabric wound into place, Damen proceeded with his squires into the hall.

Men and women reclined on couches, amid scattered low tables or on low, cushioned benches.

Pallas, the handsome officer-champion, reclined with the easy posture that spoke to his aristocratic blood(and this! He isnt just a lowly soldier, this feeds in to my theory on Laurent and Jealousy).

So they are now at the banquet Laurent and his immaculate manners and besotted slave to do his bidding, Damen brooding. Time comes to talk about pledging support.

Barieus stepped forward. ‘I want assurances that Vere does not hold undue influence over Akielos.’

Undue influence. ‘Speak plainly.’

‘They say the Prince of Vere is your lover.’

Silence. No one would have dared speak that way in his father’s court.

‘Who we take to our bed is not your concern.’

‘If our King takes Vere to his bed, it is our concern,’ said Barieus.

‘Shall I tell them what really happened between us? They want to know,’ Laurent said.

Laurent began to unlace the cuff of his sleeve, drawing the ties through the eyelets, then opening the fabric to expose the fine underside of his wrist—and then the unmistakable gold of the slave cuff.

So apparently the cuff means ownership of the royal family. I don't think that Damen thought of it as ownership like his people do, just part of a shared experience and sentimentality over what brought them together. He's shrewd enough to know he's laying some kind of claim, but I bet Laurent thought the whole thing through and realized the complete meaning of the cuff or how people would see it. OWNERSHIP, deeply pledged to the royal family.

Do I have the question clear?’ said Laurent, speaking in Akielon. ‘You are asking if I lay with the man who killed my own brother?’

Laurent wore the slave cuff with utter disregard. He had no owner, the aristocratic arrogance of his posture said that. Laurent had always possessed an essential quality of the untouchable. He cultivated a faultless grace on the reclining couch, his chiselled profile and marble-chip eyes those of a statue. The idea that he would let anyone fuck him was impossible.

Barieus said, ‘A man would have to be ice-cold to sleep with his brother’s killer.’

‘Then you have your answer,’ said Laurent. (I love this, because he answers the question, but it doesn't mean what they think, I'd they think differently he knows they won't press the issue.)

There was a silence, in which Laurent’s gaze held that of Barieus.

‘Yes, Exalted. They pledge to Damen.

Laurent requests The Fall of Inactos, Damen broods some more, jealous of Isander.

The wine came. As he took up the cup, he saw Jord approaching Aimeric's parents to pay his respects.

‘Thank you, soldier.’

She gave him the token attention a lady might give to any servant, and turned back to her conversation with her husband.

Before he realised it, Damen had lifted his hand and summoned Jord over. Approaching the dais, Jord made the three prostrations as ungracefully as a man wearing a new armour suit.

‘You have good instincts,’ Damen heard himself say.

It was the first time that he had spoken to Jord since the battle at Charcy. He felt how different this was to the nights they’d sat around a campfire swapping stories. He felt how different everything was. Jord gazed at him for a long moment, then indicated Laurent with his chin.

‘I’m glad you two are friends,’ said Jord.

‘It’s good that you could trust each other,’ said Jord. And then: ‘I think before you came, he didn’t really trust anyone.’

Damen said, ‘He didn’t.’

He and Jord part ways Damen see's Laurent whisper to Isander and head out the door. He goes to follow him and realizes that he's abandoned the slave and gone for a ride. He finds Laurent at the site of his brother's death.

Clearing a last jut of stone, he saw the curve of a shoulder in the moonlight, the white of a loose shirt, his outer garments stripped, all wrists and exposed throat. Laurent was sitting on a stone outcrop. His jacket was discarded uncharacteristically. He was sitting on it. Stone slid under his heel. Laurent turned. For a moment, Laurent looked at him wide-eyed, young, and then the look in his eyes changed, as though the universe had fulfilled an ineluctable promise. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘perfect.’

Damen said, ‘I thought you might want—’

‘Want?’

'A friend,’ said Damen. He used Jord’s word. His chest felt tight. ‘If you’d prefer me to leave, I will.’

‘Why cavil?’ said Laurent. ‘Let’s fuck.’

He said it with his shirt unlaced, the wind teasing the opening there. They faced each other.

'That isn’t what I meant.’

It might not be what you meant, but it’s what you want.’ Laurent said, ‘You want to fuck me.’

Anyone else would have been drunk. Laurent was dangerously sober. I really want to know what he'd have done if Damen would have taken him up on his offer.

‘I came because I thought you might want to talk.’

‘Not particularly.’ (again, there's an undertone that I missed before, sure he's trying to put Damen off, but is he really? I think he might want comfort but is disgusted with himself and can't really ask for it).

He said, ‘About your brother.’

‘I never fucked my brother,’ said Laurent, with a strange edge to the words. ‘That is incest.’

They were standing in the place where his brother had died. With a disorientating sensation Damen realised they weren’t going to talk about that. They were going to talk about this.

‘You’re right,’ said Damen. ‘I’ve been thinking about it since Ravenel. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.’

‘Why?’ said Laurent. ‘Was I that good?’

'No. You fucked like a virgin,’ said Damen, ‘half the time. The rest of the time—’

‘Like I knew what to do?’

‘Like you knew what you were used to.’

He saw the words impact. Laurent swayed, like he’d been dealt a blow.

Laurent said, ‘I’m not certain I can take your particular brand of honesty just at the moment.’

Damen said, ‘I don’t prefer sophistication in bed, if you were wondering.’

'That’s right,’ said Laurent. ‘You like it simple.’

All the breath left his throat. He stood, stripped, unready for it. Will you use even that against me? he wanted to say, and didn’t. Laurent’s breathing was shallow too, holding his ground.

‘He died well,’ Damen made himself say. ‘He fought better than any man I’ve known. It was a fair fight, and he felt no pain. The end was quick.’

‘Like gutting a pig?’

Damen felt like he was reeling. He barely heard the rumbling of sound. Laurent jerked around to look into the dark, where the sound was growing louder—hoof beats, thundering closer.

‘You sent your men out to look for me too?’ said Laurent, his mouth twisting.

‘No,’ said Damen, and pushed Laurent hard out of sight, into the shelter of one of the huge, crumbling blocks of stone.

They hide from a troop of riders.

And then they were gone, passing them as quickly as they had arrived, disappearing across the fields towards a destination in the west. The hoof beats receded. Damen didn’t move, their chests pressed to each other, Laurent’s shallow breath against his shoulder.

He felt himself shoved back as Laurent pushed himself out to stand with his back to him, breathing hard.

Damen stood with his hand against the stone, and looked after him across the landscape of strange shapes. Laurent didn’t turn back to him, just stood holding himself still. Damen could see him once again as a pale outline in a thin shirt.

‘I know you’re not cold,’ said Damen. ‘You weren’t cold when you ordered me tied to the post. You weren’t cold when you pushed me down on your bed.’(Damen! Theres a threat! Get yo head outtake yo ass!)

‘We need to leave.’ Laurent spoke without looking at him. ‘We don’t know who those riders were, or how they got past our scouts.’

‘Laurent—’

‘A fair fight?’ said Laurent, turning back to him. ‘No fight’s ever fair. Someone’s always stronger.’

And then the bells from the fort began to ring, the sound of a warning, their sentries belatedly reacting to the presence of unknown riders. Laurent reached down to snag up his jacket, shrugging into it, laces hanging loose. Damen brought over their horses, unhooking his reins from the stone column. Laurent swung up wordlessly into his saddle and put his heels into his horse, both of them riding hard.

3 notes · View notes

inu-jiru · 4 years ago

Text

Tomoe, The Eastern Tigress - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen - Killer Fang

Thunder and Lector stood side by side, staring down their three opponents. John, Kagetora, Jerome, Hiro, and Teru remained on the sidelines, spectating with bated breath. With a confident lick of his chops, Thunder spoke first. “That little brat’s pissed me off,” he said. “I’ll take him out. Can you handle those two, brother?” “It’ll be a minor challenge,” replied Lector with a smirk. Their arrogance...it set a fire to Tomoe’s soul. “Well then...let’s do this.” Thunder’s eyes suddenly widened with insane bloodlust. “Killer Fang!” Weed’s eyes widened as the floppy-eared Doberman soared towards him. Quickly, he rolled to the side, feeling the rush of air as Thunder cashed into the ground. Recovering quickly, Thunder lunged for the Akita mix, biting rapidly at his face and head. Thanks to his smaller body, Weed was able to dodge almost every attack. Weed backed off, feeling a sharp pain in the side of his face. Thunder’s fangs left a long cut on his cheek. Lector, meanwhile, advanced on Tomoe. A bitch like her was all talk, he assumed. She’d go down in seconds. Kyoushiro, however, quickly stepped in front of her, baring his fangs. “A girl shouldn’t waste her energy on a scumbag like this,” Kyoushiro said coyly. “I’ll handle this bastard.” “Tch,” scoffed Tomoe. “Thanks, but…” Tomoe launched herself into the air with a kick of her powerful legs. Kyoushiro stared up after her with wide eyes. Even Lector had to stop. “Fight WITH me, not for me.” Tomoe landed behind Lector, forcing him to turn around. With a fierce growl, the Doberman began to chase her. Kyoushiro followed close behind, running his tongue along his fangs. Fight with her, eh? That gave the Kishu an idea. Like Tomoe, he shot into the air, but he wasn’t aiming to land in front of Lector. No, he was unleashing his ultimate attack: Death From Above. It was the same attack he’d used to slice off the ear of Teru’s father. Moving targets were never guaranteed to be kills, but any damage was good enough. SLICE! “Gyah!” Lector yowled, feeling Kyoushiro’s claws slashing his side. The force of the attack knocked him off his paws. “Eh?” Thunder glanced over at the other battle, hearing his brother’s cry. Weed perked; this was his chance! He darted forward, cutting into Thunder’s shoulder with his fangs. “Gah! You brat!” Weed’s heart raced and his pupils dilated. That attack just now...it filled him with a new sensation. The bearhound blood of Gin, Riki, and his great-grandfather, Shiro, was stirring. The battle could be won. He just had to keep going. Jerome watched, nodding in approval. This was the power he’d been waiting to see. He hoped the others could see it, too. Lector was struggling to his paws, grunting from his wound. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything fatal, but it hurt a lot. Tomoe and Kyoushiro stood a short distance away, watching his movements in preparation. With a furious growl, Lector decided to try his chances with Kyoushiro. He lunged for the Kishu. His fangs clanked metallically as he narrowly missed Kyoushiro’s flesh. The male was dodging him, moving with great speed. “Stop resisting,” Lector barked. “You’re only delaying the inevitable. I’ll kill you both sooner or later.” “You won’t do shit,” Tomoe challenged. She chased after Lector, biting down on his hind leg. Lector stumbled and fell with a grunt. Seeing this, Kyoushiro smirked and slowed to a stop. He began digging in the snow, looking back at Lector with a cheeky grin. “Oi, Tomoe,” he began. “How big should I make this? How wide?” “Eh?” asked Tomoe through a mouthful of leg. “What is that?” “I’m making the bastard a grave, hehe.” “Dream on!” Lector sneered. He twisted himself around and lashed out with his other hind paw. He caught Tomoe in the throat. A sharp, choking pain forced the bitch to let go, staggering back on her hind legs until she fell onto her back. Standing, Lector was prepared to turn and finish Tomoe off, that was, until he felt a large rock smack into the back of his head. “What!?” Kyoushiro was executing another one of his attacks. He’d dig until he found the rocks buried beneath the snow. He’d then use these as projectiles, shooting them at his enemies using his strong forelegs. Lector fell onto his haunches, raising a paw against the onslaught of rocks. His head and chest were assaulted with blows. Lector was beginning to grow faint. Shit… The panicking Doberman thought. Hougen said this would be easy…! “Brat!” Thunder had yelled at Weed in the meantime. He was far too interested in tearing Gin’s son limb from limb to notice that his brother was quickly losing. “Don’t think you won because of a fluke! I’m not dead yet!” Weed braced himself, waiting for Thunder to come closer. When the time was right, the Akita mix jumped at him. His fangs raked across Thunder’s nose, tearing it up. “Gnah…!” The doberman shook his head. Droplets of his blood sprinkled onto the snow. “His training’s paid off,” Jerome commented. Everyone else had to agree. As young as he was, Weed was handling himself quite well. The puppy landed in the snow, dipping his head downward. A furious Thunder advanced on him again, only to suddenly get knocked in the mouth with a large branch Weed had pulled from beneath the white blanket. Thunder groaned in agony; his teeth felt loose. The branch snapped, and the Doberman whined as his canines were ripped from his mouth. Lector, meanwhile, had had enough of the rocky assault. He dove, rolling out of the way and got to his paws, blood seeping from gashes made by the sharper stones. He looked towards Thunder, seeing him lying on the ground and dazed. Enraged by his brother’s injuries, Lector decided to attack Weed instead. One brat was much easier than two. Even if his brother had been caught off-guard, he wouldn’t make the same foolish mistake. “He’s--ack--getting away!” Tomoe coughed, still recovering a bit from her blow to the neck. She’d remained down on the ground in order to avoid the rocks, but now that Lector wasn’t getting hurt, Kyoushiro was just wasting his energy. “Kyoushiro! Stop!” “Eh?” The Shirogane attack slowed to a stop. Looking around, he could see Lector advancing on the Akita mix. Weed turned, prepared to face the new attacker. Kyoushiro snarled. “Bastard! You’re our opponent!” Both he and Tomoe began to pursue the Doberman, Tomoe catching up sooner than her male companion. Lector had reached Weed, his maw opening to deliver a bite, when Tomoe reached over, catching his neck in her jaws. “Not so fast, bastard!” she growled. She tossed him away. Lector’s panicked yelp was cut off as he slammed, roughly, into the ground. Kyoushiro turned sharply; he’d be the one to finish the assassin. Lector’s attempt hadn’t been a complete failure, though. Thunder sat up, his face dripping blood as he watched the action. He eyed Weed, who now had his back to him. He smirked. Jerome’s eyes widened. “Weed!” the Shepherd shouted. “Watch out!” “You’re mine!” Thunder howled as he darted towards Weed. Despite Jerome’s warning, Weed had noticed too late. He didn’t have time to gasp before Thunder chomped down on his neck. Without his canines, the attack wasn’t at all fatal, but the remainder of his teeth were strong enough to hold the puppy in place. Tomoe stiffened. The Doberman held onto Weed, glaring up at Tomoe. “Tell Kyoushiro to back off my brother. Now.” “Shit…!” Tomoe cursed. Quickly, she called back to the Shirogane, who’d just reached Lector’s body and was holding his neck beneath his paws. “Kyoushiro! Wait!” “Eh!?” Kyoushiro froze, looking back towards Tomoe. “Tomoe? What’s—?” “Ha!” Lector suddenly barked, lashing out with a forepaw. It caught Kyoushiro square in the jaw, sending him flying. Without hesitation, Lector leapt at the downed Kishu, biting down on his neck. Tomoe’s blood ran cold. She hadn’t meant for this to happen…! What was she going to do!? “Damn!” cried Kagetora. “Those rotten bastards!” “Kyoushiro!” Teru wailed in fright. “Shit…” John’s body shook in anger. His poor daughter...now caught between two hostages. He wanted to rush out and kill the two assassins, but he knew that interfering would spell the deaths of Kyoushiro and Weed. “Grrr! Tomoe! Don’t give up! You can still win this!” Can I…? Tomoe thought bitterly. She looked between Thunder and Lector, both of them watching her with amusement. They relished in her uncertainty. “So, Tomoe,” Thunder began. “It looks like there’s nothing you can do. The second you move, both your friends are dead. You might as well give up.” “Don’t do it!” Kyoushiro choked. “Don’t surrender to these guys, Tomoe! I don’t give a damn what this asshole does to me. I’m not gonna die so easily!” “Shut up!” Lector ordered, sinking his canines deeper, not enough to penetrate the flesh, but enough to cut off airflow. Kyoushiro struggled defiantly, even if it did nothing to shake Lector off him. Weed also struggled, cringing at the feeling of Lector’s blood trickling down on him. “You don’t have to die though, Tomoe,” continued Thunder. “Hougen has a liking for bitches. You might not be a Japanese breed like he prefers, but having John’s daughter as his mate would make him—” “I’ll break that fucker’s giraffe neck in seven places before letting him touch my daughter!” John cut in sharply. He stepped out into the clearing, flashing his fangs threateningly. Thunder responded by picking Weed up and slamming him into the ground. The puppy grunted in pain. “Don’t!” Jerome warned. “Motherfuck!” John spat violently. Tomoe stood in the middle of the chaos, the wheels in her head turning. What could she do? What could she do!? Finally, Tomoe bowed her head. “Goddamnit,” she muttered. “Fine. I surrender…” “Tomoe…!” cried Kagetora in disbelief. “On ONE condition,” Tomoe added quickly. Thunder cocked a brow, but remained silent. Tomoe proceeded. “I’ll come with you to Hougen, but ONLY if you spare Weed and Kyoushiro.” “And why would we do that?” asked Thunder. “Because I know Hougen loves having prisoners. He’s already lost my father and John. You really think he’ll pass up having Gin’s son and the dog who’s defied him all this time? Think about it.” Tomoe… Hiro thought. What are you planning, kiddo…? wondered John. “Kill them, and I won’t go with you,” said Tomoe firmly. “Kill them, and nothing’ll stop be from turning you both into crowfood.” There was silence. Two Doberman brothers shared a glance, considering Tomoe’s words. Tomoe kept a stern, neutral expression, regardless of her racing heart. After what felt like an eternity, Thunder and Lector both nodded and picked up their captives. Weed and Kyoushiro dangled by their necks, their hind legs kicking and clawing, to no avail. “Deal.” Thunder nodded Lector over. The two stood side by side, a bit of space between them. “You’ll walk between us, bitch. We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” “Mmm…” murmured Tomoe with a slow nod. “Don’t…!” John pleaded. His tone was mixed between an angry growl, and a pleading whine. It hurt Tomoe’s heart to hear, but she ignored it, padding in between the Dobermans. “Let’s go,” ordered Lector. Together, the three dogs began padding towards the woods. Tomoe’s friends and family could only watch, hating themselves for being unable to help. As Tomoe was led into the undergrowth, her eyes wandered, examining the area around her. The forest was densely populated with trees; often, either Thunder or Lector would push into her in order to avoid walking into one. She could use that. Gazing ahead, she could see a tree that was in Lector’s path. She waited patiently, feeling as Lector began pressing into her. She suddenly rammed her shoulder into him, slamming him into the tree. “Ack!” he yelped. Kyoushiro fell from his open maw. The Kishu didn’t waste a second backing out of the way. “What--?” Thunder began, looking at Tomoe. The bitch turned her head and bit onto the male’s neck. She threw him roughly against the same tree, forcing the wind out of him. Like Kyoushiro, Weed was released as soon as the assassin’s maw was open. Both he and Tomoe rushed to Kyoushiro’s side. “Aha!” laughed Kyoushiro, a wide grin on his face. “Nice one, Tomoe!” “Thanks…” Weed murmured awkwardly. “As if I’d really give up to a pair of bastards,” Tomoe scoffed. The Doberman brothers slowly got up, glaring daggers at the crafty bitch. “You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life,” Lector seethed. Tomoe smirked. “Funny,” she began. “I was about to say the same thing.” “There’s no way you can take us both--” “Harah!” Tomoe roared, not giving the assassin time to finish speaking. Her body began rotating in preparation of the Retsu Genmu-Battōga. The cyclone of fangs approached the unsuspecting killers with rapid speed. They stared, eyes widening in shock. “What the hell…!?” Thunder exclaimed. It was the last thing he ever said. Both dogs were swallowed up by the cyclone, their bodies carved into that singular, spiral-shaped cut. They both wailed in agony as their blood spilled and spattered about, covering the snow, the tree, and Tomoe herself. Kyoushiro stared on, his maw open in astonishment. “That…” The Kishu was so stunned that he could barely speak. “That was...wow…” Weed, however, had looked away the second Tomoe had began her attack. Whatever gratitude he had before was gone now. Even with all Thunder and Lector had done, he refused to believe that they deserved that. If he were still the leader… “Fuck!” John was screaming in rage. He lashed and kicked at the snow, trying to vent however he could. “Those goddamned bastards!” “Kyoushiro…” Teru whispered, shivering against Hiro’s foreleg. Hiro gently lifted the leg, pulling the puppy closer to him in a sort of hug. The Pyrenees wanted to rant and rave as much as John was doing, but he resisted. Teru needed someone right now, now that Kyoushiro was gone. “There’s still time,” Kagetora paced frantically. “Maybe I can kill one of those fuckers with my Battouga and--” “And the other will kill his hostage,” said Jerome bluntly. Kagetora gritted his teeth, defeated. “We have to trust in Weed. He’ll find a way. I know he will.” “Just shut up about Weed for five fucking seconds!” John roared. His eyes had gone red from fury. “Tomoe…! My Tomoe’s sacrificed herself to save them, and all you care about is that little shit!” Jerome didn’t respond, instead, just staring silently at John. There was suddenly a thundering of paws. John was too busy fuming to notice, but Hiro, Jerome and Kagetora turned to see the rest of the Ohu Army accompanied by Kyoushiro’s packmates. Even Reika and the injured males were there, lagging behind a bit, but otherwise fine. “Everyone!” Ken called. “We’re here! What’s happened?” “Hiro!” Reika barked, making her way to the front of the group. She joined the male, pressing her coat against his in greeting. “Thank goodness you’re safe. Ah…? Is that Teru?” “Yeah,” replied Hiro softly. The puppy looked up at Reika, his face wet with tears. “It’s a long story, but...Kyoushiro’s gone. Tomoe and Weed, too.” “Oh my God…” Reika shuttered. Kagetora, his head bowed in defeat, turned to Ken, prepared to relay the events of Tomoe’s battle. Before he could utter a word, however, Jerome perked, his ears swiveling towards the woods. “Ah!” he began. “It’s…!” The bushes of the undergrowth shook as someone moved within them. Noticing this, everyone began to run over and investigate. Even John managed to calm down enough so that he could follow behind. Emerging from the bushes were Tomoe, Kyoushiro and Weed, the first two holding up their heads with pride and accomplishment. Weed, meanwhile, hung in the back, unsatisfied. “Boss!” Kyoushiro’s packmates yipped in excitement. Teru gasped, grinning widely and wagging his tail. Hiro let the puppy go, and he rushed between the legs of the bigger dogs, making a beeline for the white male. As soon as he reached Kyoushiro, he pounced, wrapping his forelegs around the Kishu as best he could. “Kyoushiro!” Teru sobbed happily. “You’re okay!” “Tomoe!” barked the Ohu soldiers. “Weed!” “Tomoe!” John howled. He pushed past his allies, not stopping until he could throw himself onto his daughter, pulling her tightly against his chest. “Gyah!” Tomoe yelped in surprise. “Dad! Dad, I can’t breathe!” “You’re never leaving my sight again!” the General declared. “You hear me!? Never again!” “Weed!” Jerome was the first to approach the brindle. “Are you alright?” “...Fine,” Weed grunted. Jerome’s eyes darkened. “She killed them, didn’t she…?” asked the Shepherd quietly. “She didn’t even give them a chance to surrender. How the hell can everyone support her? She’s so heartless.” “...Those two were dangerous assassins, Weed,” Jerome found himself saying. “I hate to say it, but...maybe it was for the best.” “No!” Weed glared up at Jerome, his intense stare forcing the normally unshakeable male to flinch. “Don’t you say that, Jerome. Kindness can work. The others won’t understand; I need you to be able to.” “...I understand, Weed,” murmured Jerome obediently. “I’m sorry.” “I’ll tell my father about all this when we get to Shiga,” Weed continued. He paused, giving Tomoe a cold stare. “He’ll side with me. I know he will.” As much as Jerome wanted to agree, for some reason he just couldn’t. Not this time. As things began settling down and the story of Tomoe, Kyoushiro and Weed’s battle was told, everyone stood together, looking to their chosen leaders. The Shirogane looked at Tomoe, his gaze noticeably soft and fond. Jirō leaned over towards one of his packmates. “I’ve never seen him look at someone like that before,” he murmured. “You think that Kyoushiro…?” “Maybe, heh,” the other dog replied with a smirk. “That Tomoe sounds like a real badass. Not to mention, she’s kinda pretty…” “Well, Kyoushiro?” Tomoe said, turning to the white male. “Did all this convince you that you could trust me?” “You could say that,” responded Kyoushiro, grinning. “Tomoe, I might not trust adults just yet, but if Ohu’s filled with dogs like you, then maybe it’s a pack worth joining.” “Uh!?” exclaimed GB excitedly. “Does that mean…?” “Yeah,” said Kyoushiro, nodding. Turning to his pack, he lifted his head and shouted firmly. “Starting tonight, this pack fights for Ohu! We’ll take down Hougen and anyone else who wants to make this world an evil place! Any objections?” “No, sir!” Kyoushiro’s packmates cried together, rallied by the Kishu’s words. Tomoe’s smile widened as she gazed at the male. “Thanks, Kyoushiro,” she said. “You won’t regret this. I promise.” “Alright!” Ken cheered. “General John, should we get going?” “Heh, why not?” replied John, licking his chops. “We’re all up; might as well get a head start. What do you say to that, Tomoe?” “Sounds good to me.” Tomoe’s tail wagged; things were starting to come around and she couldn’t be happier. Looking around at her allies, old and new, Tomoe raised her muzzle and issued her order: “Everyone! To Kouga!” “AYE!” Whoosh! A dark blur dashed across the trees, high above the heads of Gin and Julius. They’d been traveling nonstop since leaving the stream, and though it took hours, they’d reached the land of Kouga rather quickly. Sticking to the shadows and forests, they were to avoid whatever loyalists of Hougen were living in the Shiga Prefecture. Gin’s ear flicked at the noise. Julius, however, had a more animated reaction. “What the!?” the young Shepherd yelped, looking around quickly. He couldn’t see anything, but as his ears swiveled, he could hear more sounds of movement. “What the hell’s up there? Monkeys?” “Haha…” Gin chuckled softly. The youngster had never been to this area; it only made sense that he was confused. “Don’t be afraid. Those are the Kouga dogs. They’re ninjas, remember? Like Akame.” “Oh…” Julius settled down slightly, though his eyes still remained on the leaves and branches overhead. “What are they doing up this late? Even ninja dogs have to sleep, right?” “There’s always at least one dog patrolling the territory,” the Akita explained. “They have to make sure no one comes across their base, the Kouga Village. They should recognize me as an ally. They might be on their way to alert Tesshin as we speak.” The forest cleared away slightly as the pair continued forward. A large wall of stone separated the lower section of the forest from the land above. Gin stopped in front of it, looking up expectantly. Julius waited behind him. “Little brother,” Gin barked. “Are you up there?” There was a pause. A dog slowly began to appear at the top of the wall, looking down at Gin with an affectionate gaze. His spotted coat and pale mohawk made him instantly recognizable. This was Tesshin, leader of the Kouga. “Gin,” the male began kindly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” “I’ll say,” Gin chuckled. He turned to his young friend. “This is Julius. You might remember him from your visits, the little scamp that wouldn’t stop following after John.” “Er, yo,” Julius greeted awkwardly. This was his first real meeting with the Kouga, and it was obvious he wasn’t quite sure how to talk to him just yet. “How’s it goin’?” “Ah, I remember you.” Tesshin smiled. “Nice to meet you, Julius. You both look like you could use a long rest. What happened?” “It’s a long story…” Gin lowered his head a bit. “Just know that there’s a big situation, one that’ll affect all of Japan unless we do something about it. John and some others should be here soon enough. We can discuss it all then.” “Very well. Gin, Julius, please.” The Kouga suddenly leapt down the hill, landing gracefully in front of the two travelers. “Follow me. I’ll take you both to the healing spring.” Gin let out a slow, relieved sigh as he followed Tesshin’s lead. Though he didn’t show it on his face, his body ached with each step he took. There was nothing he wanted to do more than finally heal his wounds and return to his former glory. Morning arrived at the recovering Paradise. Mel was off on his own, dashing along a snowy path after a pheasant. The puppy had gone on solo hunts a few times before, despite the offerings of other dogs to accompany him. Mel wanted to be a capable male; hunting on his own helped him to strengthen his body and sharpen his mind. Besides, the other dogs could focus on looking out for enemies. The pheasant, tired from flying, began fluttering down towards the ground. Excitedly, Mel sped up. The bird noticed him, and prepared to take off, when the Golden Retriever puppy pounced. Mel slid down a snowy slope, tumbling with the bird as he struggled to get its neck in his jaws. The pheasant screeched in fear, before letting out a sharp shriek. Mel landed on his paws at the bottom of the slope, clutching his prize in exhaustion. He’d done it! “I really did it!” Mel exclaimed. “Oh my gosh! I can’t wait to show everybody! My first kill!” “Oi.” Mel jumped, turning around quickly. A group of dogs, around seven in total, were standing at the top of the slope, looking down at the puppy with dark expressions on their faces. Mel began to shiver. He didn’t recognize them as Ohu males or dogs from Mutsu. Something wasn’t right. Mel began backing away and suddenly took off. “Oi, brat!” one of them shouted. They began chasing after the pup. “Stop running!” Mel refused. These dogs...they had to be enemies of some sort. The puppy felt fangs scrape against his leg. With a yelp, Mel tripped, crashing into the snow. His kill fell from his maw; one of the older males grabbed it, smirking. “Why’d you run?” one of the males, their leader, Mel presumed, demanded. “We just wanted to ask for directions.” “D-Directions?” said Mel fearfully. “Yeah,” the leading male barked. “Where’s Futago Pass? We heard Ohu needs males, so we came from Tochigi to join.” The explanation failed to allay Mel’s suspicions. Still, running was no longer an option. The seven males were now surrounding him, all flashing him fake, toothy grins that made sure to show each and every one of their fangs. Mel swallowed, before pointing with his muzzle in the direction he’d been running in. “Keep going that way…” he began slowly. “If you go straight, pass the highway, you’ll reach Futago Pass.” “See?” the leader chuckled. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He turned, flicking his tail in the puppy’s face. “Let’s go!” Mel watched quietly as the group began heading in the direction he’d pointed out. It was then he’d noticed one of them carrying his pheasant. He gasped. “Hey…!” he cried. “That’s mine!” “Is it?” the male asked, turning to Mel and giving him a glare that practically screamed malicious intent. Mel didn’t say anymore, choosing to stare at his paws. The sound of paws faded away; only then did Mel look back up. The group was gone. Mel’s brow furrowed slightly. He needed to report this to Ben. Mel got up and began padding in the real direction of the Pass, towards Gajou. When he was far enough away, however, the group of dogs appeared at the stop of the slope, looking down after the puppy. The leader sneered. “After him.”

#ginga densetsu weed #ginga densetsu weed fanfiction

1 note · View note

teamvnla · 5 years ago

Text

Cutscene : The Lavender Gala

The twins travel back to the base was quiet, Lye seemed lost meaning Van had to lead her the majority of the way. The moment they stepped through the threshold of the loft, she kicked off her shoes and made her way to the bed not so much as greeting Kash or Russ. She threw herself onto the bed, grabbing one of the pillows she held it close to her body curling up around it.

"I take that it didn't go as planned?" Kash stated the obvious, he sat at the counter next to Russ who was going over some information on his scroll.

"Nope, I'll explain more later but how fast do you think we could get me a suit?" Van folded his arms thinking, his left leg began to bounce slowly.

Kash and Russ looked to each other before leaning in closer to Van, they recognized that he was coming up with a plan for something. The afternoon continued with the boys speaking in hushed voices in the kitchen as Lye remained up in the bedroom.

------

Nava grew up with events like these being prominent in her life, she grew used to the rooms full of people paired with the empty formalities. This was one of the more open ones, the focus being the latest Spring collection meaning they were playing to potential buyers as well as entertaining loyal investors. There was a dinner with music and dancing before the main event, no expense was sparred.

She managed to slip away excusing herself to the bathroom, the meeting with the twins had been weighing on her mind the entirety of the evening. She didn't care too much for these events, but her guilty consious wasn't helping her in the slightest to get through the evening. Her heels clicked against the marbled floors as she walked through the empty hall, she paused her stride glancing around make sure no one else was in the hallway before moving aside the curtains and slipping out onto the balcony. She closed the ornate glass door behind her quietly, the balcony looked over the main courtyard in the garden. She stepped out to the end, closing her eyes and basking in the chilly evening breeze.

The special thing about this particular balcony was that it was one of the few places on the estate that was considered a blindspot. It gave her the chance to breathe freely. Since her return many have practically pounced at the chance to use her to build a relationship to her parents. The majority of her social interaction felt hollow and rehearsed. Outside of Cinnamon and Slate those she considered friends were sparse.

"Y'know your securities pretty shit. They let me through no problem, I dunno if they just assumed I was part of the staff cause of my ears or if they were just so distracted dashing good looks and charm. Either way I expected more of a challenge."

Nava flinched at the voice, she hadn't heard him approach. She didn't even sense his aura, her lack of training was showing clear as day. She was getting rusty.

"Still so full of yourself I see." She looked him over, his hair was swept back out of his face, the suit he wore was one assigned to their staff for this particular event. If anything figured he ditched whatever tray he was suppose to have some vicarious way. Had she not known him she would have assumed he was just another staff member.

Van gave a grin, he leaned back against a wall bring a black wrapped cigarette to his lips. A orange glow illuminated his face as he lit the cigarette, the light caught his ruby red eyes making it look as though they were glowing.

Since leaving their meeting something didn't sit right with him, he considered himself good at reading people. So had he missed or overlooked something that would explain Nava's attitude, there was no way he had gone soft. He wasnt just being hopeful...was he? Optimism was never a good look on him, he knew that and still.

"What's your deal?" He asked her straight out, he tilted his head.

"Deal? I just came to my senses, is that so hard to believe." She rolled her eyes. "Why am I even humoring you, I should just call security."

"It is hard to believe." He stated ignoring her other statement, he took a drag from the cigarette. "Can ya guess why? Because the girl who's spouting off about how its nonsense for someone of her status to considering being a Hunteress is also the same girl who was seething when she saw people boarding air ships instead of staying behind to help. The same girl who told me it's our job to help people. Something that makes you home hmm isnt it?" He let out a puff of smoke, using the cigarette to point at her.

"Weren't you always one for theatrics? It useful to know what one favors when you have to play to them, ah but you know that quite well don't you. With your previous line of work." She knew he was sensitive about his time in the White Fang so she decided to prod at the topic.

"That's true, I think I'm pretty good at it. I'm pretty good at telling it apart too, only took me a day or two to pick apart the perfect little heiress act." It didn't seem to work, she had to press harder.

"Yet you couldn't pick apart the one that followed. The naive wide-eyed worked far better than I ever expected, even on a stone-cold killer like yourself."

"...." She watched as his gaze sharpened, he didn't respond.

"I already had to lower myself to point of sharing a room with not one, but two Faunus and one was also a killer. Can you imagine my shock, ugh it still makes me shiver how easy the other two accepted you. I bet they were just scared what you could possibly do to them while they slept, after hearing what you had done how could they not. It was like a monster in the closet except the monster was in the bed across the room."

Even with the lack of light she could the sharp snap of the cigarette as his jaw clenched, his hand moved for a brief moment she had thought he was going for a weapon instead he scratched at his forearm. It was a habit she noticed from as far back as when they were assigned on the team together, she had never pointed it out assuming she would have time another time to do so. Clearly she wouldnt, she was practically holding a torch to the bridge before her.

"Now why don't hop along little bunny, I already have one scurrying rodent serving me I dont need another at the moment." She felt guilty for how she was refering to him and Cinnamon, she knew neither of twins looked being referred to as bunny in such a way but she had to end this. "You should be grateful generosity, why is such a trait so hard to find in your kind."

"Tch." He tossed his cigarette off to the side stomping on it, he stepped forward not to Nava but passed her. Hopping up onto the railing, he spared a glancing at her before hopping off disappearing into the darkness and foliage.

She wait a few beats before she dropped to her knees, there weren't any cameras here she knew that and yet she still didn't try to apologize or inform of her current situation. Was she a bad person? She could have told him, knowing Van he could have helped her. Why didn't she just speak truthfully with him?

She brought her hands to her face and sighed heavily, she decided she would have a few drinks tonight. She stood up fixing her appearance before went to open the door and reenter the event. She felt thick cord like ropes wrap around her, in an instant her mouth was covered and limbs restricted. She tried to the activate her Semblance, her eyes went wide with fear as she couldn't even force open her palms. The cord wound tightly around her hands balling them into fist, who ever was behind this either knew her Semblance and did this intentionally or she just had really bad luck.

"That was far too easy." She heard an unfamiliar voice speak and a pair of footsteps land on the balcony.

"Wasn't she suppose to be one of the harder ones to snag?" The other figure commented as they approached Nava's tangled body, she could see any identifying features. Both figures wore heavy cloaks and peculiar owl mask. She could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Hearing a loud shattering of glass and the sounds of screams, she thrashed around in a panic.

"Stop that! Don't be troublesome." The figure that the aura rope seemed to be coming from spoke with an annoyed groan, she felt it tighten around her body. A strangled gasp slipped from her lips as it tightened around her neck as well.

"Hey! The doctor's going to get upset if she comes back too beat up." The first figure spoke again hitting the other in the shoulder.

Feeling the rope loose and a figure behind her she leaned forward before reeling back smashing her head into the face of one of her captors. The returned force of the mask hurt the crown of her head, but that hurt far less than the impact with the wall as she was slammed against it.

Her vision spotted before going black completely, the last she heard was alarms and shouting.

------

Van let out a frustrated groan, in a swift movement he raised his leg and turned. Venting some of his frustration by kick the streetlamp, the metal creaked as it bent forward. He hadn't intended to hit it so hard, he was just upset okay?

He gritted his teeth, the dress shows he was wearing weren't as protective as the metal toe boots he typically wore. He continued his walk home despite the stinging in his toes.

'I missed something I had to have missed something, I've been out of the game too long dealing with people is harder than Grimm. People can be unpredictable.....but they use to be so easy to read..'

'You've gone soft. You like her too much to believe she was playing you.' The voice in the back of his head countered. 'You should know better, Amorette was just the same.'

He scratched at his forearm, he needed to stop slacking. Lye, Russ, and Kash expected him to be their cool unfazed leader, he had to uphold their expectations.

It was far into the evening when he got home, he opened the door sliping the dress shoes off in the entrance. As the door shut blocking out the street light from outside his eyes sharpened and adjusted to the sudden darkness.

His gaze met another two other pair as Kash and Russ had stirred from their slumber, it was a habit that came with their line of work.

When both saw that it him they both returned to their previous position, Van grabbed a pair of pajama pants and headed to the restroom. The loft apartment didn't have a shower so he had to settle with washing the product out of his hair by shoving it in the sink.

He hung up the suit before joining to other two in his usual position it the middle, doubts and scenarios plagued his mind resulting in little sleep.

------

Jae awoke to sound of the TV from the main room, he didn't pay too much attention. He considered pulling the cover over his head and sleeping until late, but he knew that would only result in a scolding from Opal. With a groan he threw off the covers and got out of bed, make his way to the bathroom he shared with Leo. After washing his face and brushing his teeth he made his way to the main room of the suite, it was quite nice comfortable housing Jae and the three adults. The places they had stayed were all provided through the company Tarragon and Opal were under.

He passed Opal who was sitting on the couch watching some daytime news show, entering the kitchen he opened a cabinet and gathered what he needed for cereal. He sat at the counter lazily eating going over notes he had from his last session with Leo.

"...attack at the Lavender gala last night has resulted in 3 dead, 4 injured, and 9 missing. " One of the hosts from the talk show brought up, hearing the name caught Jae's attention. Since they arrived in Mistril he became more aware of how prominent the Lavender name was, it was somewhat jarring to see the face of the same girl who nearly burnt down the Beacon dorm's kitchen atleast once a week on the front page of multiple magazines.

It took a him a second to process what he heard, the conversation the host were having moved forward. He abandoned his cereal bowl to stand behind the couch, he stated at the tv his brows furrowing as more information was given.

"I thought you didn't like this show." Opal commented glancing at him over her shoulder.

"I don't, but I know her." Jae muttered a response, gaze focused on the screen as a slideshow of pictures of those missing were shown with their names listed.

"Who?" She ask, he pointed to the screen as another image of Nava popped up. "Nava Lavender? How? Wait, we've been in Mistril for how many weeks and you're just now mention you know the Lavenders?"

"I know one Lave-" He cut himself off as screenshots of security footage were shown, in most situation he would have written the situation off as the Lavenders needing to heavily update their security but the brief figures he saw at the edge of the screens told him this was more than that.

There barely entering the side of the screen were figures wearing ornate owl mask, she slideshow stopped with a mention of there having been a cut in the footage that they managed to get their hands on.

"Did you see that?" Opal gave a confused look before Jae took the note backing up into the program and pausing on the last screenshot.

"Call Cherry." She commanded standing up and rushing to the room she shared with Cherry to retrieve her laptop.

------

That morning the group had been out, Russ though taking Lye would help her get over the disappointment of the day before's meeting. They had seen her spiral before, so he didn't want to leave her alone in that state. He decided to take her to get groceries for dinner, maybe window shop some while they were out.

Van and Kashmere had head to a nearby guild for mission postings, taking lower rank ones helped with laying low and the people requesting tended to overlook their lack of official liscense. The only down side was the lower pay, the higher paying ones that would let them work were trickier to sniff out through just the description list"Wheres the next exam being held? If you and Lye go take it and get your official licenses you could sign as teachers for me and Russ." Kash suggested as he scrolled through the screen of missions, he was starting to grow bored with simple Grimm bounties.

"We could, but we dont have anyone to sign off for us. Our dad can't remember?" Van pointed out.

"Remind me why that is?" Kash knew that it had been mentioned to him before but he couldnt quite recall.

"The kingdoms dont recognize tribesmen as the same level as Hunters, theres a different category or something for them." Van explained in simple terms, his father had the skills of a Huntsman even more really and he had trained all of the Marigold children to the extent of unlocking their aura at the bare minimum. It ticked it off a bit to see someone so close to him skills go unacknowledged, but he knew that if the laws were to change suddenly many Hunters would be upset. In his opinion if the person had the right set of skills what did it matter if they went through the academies.

"That's kinda bullshit." Kashmere commented tone deadpan which earned a chuckle from Van, the rabbit's ears shifted picking up on a conversation nearby.

"They're seriously sending these out to posting all over Mistril?" A tall man stated with a surprised tone to his short companion.

"Crazy right? But if my daughter was missing I'd doing anything to get her back." The androgynous short figure next to the man responded.

"That's true, the Lavender girl was probably the perfect target for those creeps. She so sweet and docile, almost like a doll." The pair continued their conversation about taking the job or not.

She had made him so angry the night before, but hearing that she was missing made his stomach drop. Even if what she had told him was said with the intent to hurt, she had still been his friend. She was still the girl who cried during romcoms, the same girl who had her ears pierced in their cramped first year dorm room. He ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated with his own conflicted feelings.

"Let's head back, Lye and Russ are probably already back at the house." He gestured for Kash to follow him out of the building and start heading back to the apartment.

Russ held the paper bag filled with the ingredients they needed for dinner tonight, the pair took their time to look into the window displays of shops as they passed by. Lye's stride slowed as they passed a bakery, a few pastries would be nice to have to tomorrow morning.

"Let's grab a few." She nodded towards the door, she held it open letting him in first. Russ looked curiously over the sweet smelling confections that currently sat in the display. The bakery had a small coffee bar where a few people sat, their attention was directed at the small tv stationed on the wall, the women behind the counter watched as well.

Curiously Lye approached, on the screen was the tearful face of Koa Lavender. Her hands gripped the sides of the podium she stood at as she spoke her voice wavering every so often. The mother begged and pleaded calling on local Hunters to take up the mission the family was offering for Nava's return, struggling to get through her words she turned burying her face into her husband's chest who took over the conversation. Maru Lavender gave the numbers of where to find the information required to take up the mission, before giving a final plead as well as the conference finally ended.

"Poor girl, she must be worried sick." One of the patrons muttered, bringing her coffee cup to her lips.

"What happened?" Lye spoke up softly, her stomach was twisting in discomfort.

"Apparently there was an attack at the Lavender event last night, Maru and Koa's daughter was one of the people taken. They're offering a pretty hefty reward for her return." Another patron explained, expression compassionate as they looked at the screen.

Russ brought a few pastries before they left, Lye carried the box. She had gone quiet on their way back to the apartment.

"Are you worried about her?"

"Of course. Even if our meeting didn't go how we wanted it I never wished for her to get hurt."

"Well her parents seemed pretty adamant about doing everythin' in their power to find her so I'm sure it'll turn out alright." Russ tried to reassure Lye, her ears had folded against her head a clear sign of her shift in mood.

"Oh?" He rose a brow noticing the figure standing in front of their apartment door, he moved to stand in front of Lye contious not able to see the strangers face yet.

"Cinnamon?" Lye muttered recognize the mouse Faunus from behind, hearing the name clicked instantly in Russ's head.

"What're you doing here?" Van voice surprised both Lye and Cinnamon as he and Kashmere approached from the other side.

----

"Please! I know how harshly Nava was in your last meeting, but you have to understand the position she in." Cinnamon looked at the group with wide pleading eyes, they had brought her in. Van suspension on why the Lavender servant had shown up at their door step.

"Why us?"

"I saw your fights from the festival and read your mission reviews, you two are skilled and I assume those who you travel with are as well, and someone under the radar such as yourselves would have an advantage in your search." She glanced to Kash and Russ briefly.

"We not official hunters, they wont offer us the job."

"I-I can get you the information. Just come with em to the estate and I can transfer everything to your scrolls."

"We can atleast see the information and see if it's in our range of abilities." Lye spoke up glancing to the others.

"That's not your desicion."

"But you gotta admit the rewards pretty appealing, would be useful." Russ placed a hand on Van's shoulder, he had a soft spot for Lye.

"That's only if we succeed with the mission..." Van paused looking between Kashmere, Russ, and Lye they were a team he reminded himself. "Do you all want to do this?"

"At least taking a look at the info doesn't sound too bad." Kash gave a small nod.

Seeing that the group appeared to accept her offer Cinnamon sat up hopefully. "Then let's make haste to the estate." She stood, the group needed a moment to gather their things and proceed to follow the mouse Faunus to the car she had taken their apartment.

------

"Showing up personally allows us not only a look at the incident area, but can give us a personal edge on the job." Opal explained as they approached the gate to the estate, she was quick in the preparations for this meeting. They likely wouldn't be permitted to see the heads of the house yet, but they'd be the first team to observe the area. As dire as the situation may be the family didn't intend to handle the information so sloppily.

"Cherry Tarragon, Opal Amas, Jae Aryl, Leo Cornel." Slate took note of the IDs on his scroll as the group was led to meet him at the front of the main building, the name Aryl caught his attention. What was it with Nava's old teammate showing up out of the blue.

"Follow me please." He began to lead them to a meeting room to give out the information they had currently and discuss any question they may have.

At the same time Cinnamon was leading her group through the back entrance through the servant quarters and through winding hallways. She would have to take them to a room out of the way to avoid crossing with any visiting Hunters.

All was going as planned until Lye came to a sudden halt at one of the gaps in the hallway that led down to the one over.

"Jae?"

"Lye?"

#🌿Weeping Willows🌿#i consider this the beging of this arc/verse #cutscene

1 note · View note

appleoctopie · 5 years ago

Text

Title: meet me in the woods Summary: Cana meets a stranger in the woods and maybe falls a little bit in love.

AO3

Something rustled in the trees and Cana had to bite back the scream that threatened to explode from her lips. She didn't often scare easily, hell she loved watching horror movies and laughing at the ridiculousness, but anyone would be scared in her situation. She was practically living a horror movie and it was all Gray's fault.

He'd said there was a party. He'd said it was epic and amazing and she was really missing out. He'd told her to get her ass down there immediately.

He'd forgotten to mention that the supposed party was in the middle of the fucking woods .

She scowled and curled her fingers tighter around her phone, the only source of light in the otherwise dark night.

“So much for meeting me at the road,” she huffed, kicking a rock into a nearby tree with a woody thunk. The silence of the woods was unnerving, making the hairs on her arms stand up. It almost felt like the trees were holding their breath as they waited for something to happen. What it was, Cana didn't know, but she wasn't gonna hang around to find out.

She knew she should have just gotten back in her car and turned around when she got his last text. She might as well have been asking to get murdered, wandering through the dark woods alone as she was. Plus any party in the middle of the woods was clearly a front for a satanic cult. She wouldn't be surprised if they were sacrificing virgins to the dark lord right then. Maybe her lack of virginity would actually keep her alive in this situation ...

Unless it was actually a slasher movie she was walking into, then she'd be the first to die.

She sighed and shook her head. She should just go home, no party was worth getting murdered over, not even one as epic and amazing as Gray claimed it to be.

A twig snapped and Cana froze, breath turning to ice in her chest. She'd just been kidding when she'd worried about about a murderer lurking in the trees. There hadn't been a murder in Magnolia for ages , but … maybe that meant it was long overdue.

A rustle of leaves had her head whipping to the left as she scanned the area with her light. No shadows lurked, no knives flashed in the light, there was nothing there.

“I'm just imagining things.” She shook the paranoid thoughts out of her head and kept moving. Gray had told her that the clearing they were in was just a straight shot from the road. That it wouldn't be too hard to find. That she would be fine.

Gray had told her a lot of things she was beginning to doubt.

Another twig snap had her spinning on her toes to scan the area. Again there was nothing, and again she told herself she was just imagining things. She almost believed it too, until she heard the breathing. It was nearly silent, but it was unmistakable in the silent night. A soft inhale, a breathy exhale. Someone was in the shadows.

She wasn't alone.

She licked her suddenly dry lips, slowly scanning the area with her phone. On one hand she didn't want to alert the killer to her location, on the other she didn't want to be caught by surprise when they slammed into her. She'd rather see the attack coming, even if she could do nothing to stop it. Yet once again her search came up with nothing. As far as her eyes could tell she was alone.

“I swear to god if that's you Gray ...” She trailed off, eyes narrowing as anger burned away the fear. She'd rather be angry, at least then she wasn't frozen.

“Hello?”

Cana wasn't ashamed to admit that she screamed, throwing her phone in the direction of the noise. Of course she immediately realized by doing so she'd just thrown her light and was left in complete darkness with what was probably a murderer, but at the moment she'd thought it was the best option.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!”

The voice was … far too sweet to belong to a murderer. There was a rustling and then Cana felt someone touch her hand. She shrieked and yanked her hand away, only to realize they were holding her phone, the light was pointing at the ground, but she was able to make out the figure in front of her.

A woman, about the same age as her, with long golden hair and wide dark eyes. She smiled and offered up the phone, this time waiting for Cana to take it from her hand. Cana eyed her, sliding back a step as she clutched the phone like a lifeline. At least now she could call the cops or something.

“I didn't think I'd see anyone else out here.”

She was watching Cana, eyes appearing almost black in the dim light. She wondered what color they really were and shook her head. She shouldn't be wondering about a murderer's eye color, assuming she was dealing with a murderer.

She was beginning to doubt that she was.

“Do you often walk around the woods in the middle of the night?” Cana hadn't meant to sound so accusatory, but her heart was still racing and she figured she had a good reason to be suspicious.

The stranger blinked and chuckled. “Actually, yeah I do. It helps me clear my head and sleep easier.” She arched a brow and looked pointedly at Cana. “What's your excuse?”

Cana flushed. “I … well ...” She shook her head with a sigh. “I'm looking for a party.”

“In the middle of the woods?”

“... yeah.” Cana realized her excuse sounded like a lie and she rushed to explain herself. “My friend texted me about it and had promised to meet me at the road, but when I got here he claimed he was too drunk and told me I would be able to find it alone, which he assured me would be easy, yet here I am stumbling lost with no party in sight.” She took a deep breath, realizing she hadn't stopped to breathe once, and the stranger stared in silence.

She worried for a moment that she'd said too much. That she really was dealing with a murderer and had just painted a target on her chest.

Then the laughter started. It seemed to echo off the trees, making her feel like she was surrounded by a singing creek. It was contagious, and although she was slightly mortified, Cana found herself laughing along.

They fell silent, the sounds of the forest rolling in to cover the last echoes of their laughter. An owl hooted off in the distance and something small ran through the bushes nearby. Although the forest around them was still, the air between them seemed to crackle, reminding Cana of the calm before the storm.

This stranger might not be a murderer, but that didn't mean there wasn't one out there.

“I uh, think I'll just head back.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder in what she hoped was the direction of her car. She hadn't been kidding about being lost. Even though she'd tried to walk in a straight line there had been times she'd had to zig and zag around big rocks and fallen trees. There was no guarantee it was a straight shot back to the road.

She glanced around, uncertainty curling around her stomach. She had her phone … even if it was beginning to lose battery fast. She would just text Gray that she wasn't going to bother with the party and yell at him about it tomorrow.

“You're closer to the party than the road.” The stranger shrugged when Cana shot her a suspicious look. “I skirted around it on my walk. They're kind of hard to miss when you get close enough.” She nodded off to the right. “I can show you the way. I know these woods pretty well.”

Cana pursed her lips and stared. She might be dealing with a murderer, or she was just dealing with a very helpful (and cute!) girl in the woods. One of them might get her killed, but the other …

“Yeah. That would be really helpful.” She smiled and held out her free hand. “I'm Cana, by the way.”

“Lucy.” Her fingers slid into Cana's open hand, pale against her darker complexion, and surprisingly cold. Her heart stuttered as she squeezed Lucy's fingers in a quick shake, but before she could let go Lucy slid her fingers between Cana's, using her grip to tug her through the shadows.

Lucy didn't seem to need a light to navigate the branches and stones that littered the nonexistent path, but Cana wasn't about to risk it. Even with her phone lighting the way she managed to stumble over everything, Lucy being the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her face. More than once she'd had to reach back and catch Cana before she could fall.

After about five minutes of walking Lucy stopped so suddenly that Cana found herself smacking against her back. She froze for a moment, face pressed against Lucy's silken hair that smelled faintly of vanilla and lemon. It was an intoxicating scent and she found herself almost leaning in to get more, managing to catch herself at the last minute and step back.

“What is it?” She kept her voice down, eyes darting around at the surrounding trees. Had Lucy seen something out there that she'd missed? Had she been right all along about the murderer hiding in the woods?

Had she been wrong about Lucy?

Cana glanced at her, but with her back to the light she couldn't make out any expression. Lucy seemed to be scanning the area, her head swiveling ever so slightly as she searched for something.

“Someone's coming.”

Cana strained her ears, trying to hear what Lucy heard, but she'd clearly destroyed her hearing with too much loud music. The forest lay silent around them, not even the leaves seemed to be moving.

The fear that Cana had nearly forgotten settled like a weight around her shoulders and she found herself moving closer to Lucy, fingers curling in the fabric of her shirt. Even though Lucy was technically shorter than her, she moved in front of Cana, muscles shifting under Cana's fingers. She hadn't looked like a fighter, but there was no denying she was prepared to do just that if she had to.

Fire flickered in Cana's stomach, a warmth that spread slowly, melting the fear like ice slower than her anger had. She was glad Lucy was there, she felt protected .

Then she heard it too. The rustling and snapping, growing louder with each breath. It sounded like someone was running, almost like a herd of startled deer. Except they weren't running away.

The scream crawled up her throat and touched her lips as the shadowy figures burst from the trees. Branches snapped and birds exploded from the leaves as the group came to a stop, a few panting for breath. The figure in the lead was half dressed, head held high as his eyes swept the area, landing on Cana and Lucy.

Cana's scream died before it truly had a chance to live, becoming a strangled shout instead. All of the anger and fear bubbled up when she looked at Gray and she found her body moving of its own accord. She stepped away from Lucy and walked up to Gray.

“Are you okay? We heard a scream—“

She hit him.

It wasn't a slap across the face, although later she would wish she had slapped him, just to hear the sound of it ringing through the silent trees. She'd never really been a slapper though, never understood the point when a punch to the gut worked so much better.

The breath left Gray with a hiss, his words dying on his lips as he pressed a hand to his stomach. She glared up at him, hands curling to fists at her sides. She was faintly aware of the people around them—Lucy behind her, Erza, Laxuz, and Mirajane behind Gray—but she didn't care.

“You motherfucker!” The word was a snarl and she threw herself at him, pounding her fists against his bare chest with more force than necessary. “You don't fucking text someone to come to the woods in the middle of the night and then abandon them!”

Cold hands with long nimble fingers closed around her shoulders and tugged. She let Lucy pull her back, grounding herself with a deep breath and finding comfort in Lucy's grip. She closed her eyes and took another breath, letting it out through her mouth. No one said anything as she took another breath, this time opening her eyes on the exhale.

Mira was standing next to Gray, concern clear on her face. Cana realized she could see everyone clearly, far more clearly than her phone light would give, and noticed the lantern in Mira's hand. She turned off the light on her phone and slid it in her pocket, glad that she'd managed to hold on to it this time.

“Gray.” She focused her attention on him, eyes narrowed in a glare. “You bet your ass you came running when you heard my scream. If I'd been getting murdered it would have been your fault!”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as Lucy's hands slid down to grip her biceps. “You don't let a friend stumble through the woods alone! Have you ever seen a horror movie?”

Mira and Erza both took a step towards Cana, turning to face Gray.

“You made her walk alone?” Although it was a question, there was clearly no doubt in Erza's mind. Her voice was sharp enough to cut, and Cana couldn't stop the smug smile. Her girls would always have her back, especially when it came to the idiots like Gray.

“What were you thinking?” Mira hissed, arms crossed under her chest as she glared at Gray. He shifted uneasily under their stares pleading gaze meeting Cana's.

Lucy's fingers squeezed Cana's biceps and cool breath stirred the hair at her neck. “You found your party.” For a moment, Cana thought she felt the brush of lips over her skin, and then she felt nothing. No breath against her ear, no fingers chilling her skin. She turned, sure that she would be able to stop Lucy, grab her hand or say something, but she was gone. The forest lay still and silent, like she'd never even been there …

“Cana?”

Mira's hand was soft on her arm and she shook her head, glancing back at the group. Erza looked seconds away from kicking Gray's ass, her face very close to his as she hissed something to low for Cana to hear.

“Sorry. I just ...” She shook her head again. “I got too much in my head. Thought too much about murderers hiding in the trees, y'know. Normal stuff.” She gave Mira what she hoped was a reassuring smile, stepping past her to lightly tap Erza's back. Erza stopped her scolding to glance at Cana who smiled again and rested a hand on Gray's arm.

“I'm not sorry for hitting you because you're an asshole, but you can make it up to me by making sure this party is just as epic and amazing as you claim it to be.”

Laxus lead them back through the trees, Mira walking beside him with the lantern. Erza stomped behind them, muttering to herself about something that was sure to make Gray miserable.

“Are you sure you're okay?” She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but his tone betrayed none of it. His dark eyes bored into her face, checking for any sign of distress or injury she was sure.

“Yeah, I am. You're walking me back to my car and never pulling a stunt like this again, but I'm good.”

“So that scream?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “It was nothing.”

They got back to the party and friends rushed to make sure she was okay. Clearly no one had been that worried based on the drinks still going around, but Cana couldn't be upset, especially not after she had a few of those drinks herself.

There was something to be said about partying in the woods, the way the music coming from a grainy phone speaker mixed with the night sounds to make a new kind of noise. It was magical, and the energy was intoxicating.

Cana found herself throwing her head back, neck arching and hair cascading to the ground as she stared at the sky. Her eyes sought out any sort of moon, but it seemed she was sleeping for the night, hidden behind the shadow of earth.

No one asked her about the girl she'd been with when they found her, and Cana didn't offer any information. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't like Lucy had tried to hide herself from Cana's friends. She just hadn't necessarily made herself known either, and Cana had a feeling none of them would remember her in the morning.

None of them but Cana.

She smiled and spun in a circle, pausing when something in the trees caught her eye, a flash of golden hair.

She spun back to catch another glimpse, but the woods were empty and still.

Yet she couldn't quite shake the feeling of someone watching her, someone whose gaze made her feel … safe.

Protected.

She smiled and spun into Laxus's arms, laughing when he picked her up to spin her. Lucy would be her little secret, a dream memory of this night.

At least … until Cana managed to find her again.

#lucana #lucy heartfilia #Cana Alberona #fairy tail #lucy x cana #femslash #fanfiction #lusy is a vampire ...#i hadn't meant for it to be that way #but sometimes things just happen

3 notes · View notes

tinyghanouj · 6 years ago

Text

The Giant of Rainy Grove (GT story) - Chapter 4

Emery led Grace, Owen, and Will across the clearing to the giant. “Just to clarify, you were on your way home when Randy’s men killed the child, right?” Emery asked in a low voice. Owen nodded. They approached, sidestepping Roland’s twisted body. The corpses of the other men lay scattered around the mountainous figure of the still-kneeling giant. One was draped over a tree branch like a piece of discarded clothing. Randy yelped in horror as the giant crushed the last of his men in his fist. The giant’s ice blue eyes narrowed. “My son was five years old,” he growled. “Before I kill you, I will break five of your bones. Slowly” “Giant!” Emery’s authoritative, baritone voice rang out in the night. The large head turned, cold eyes scrutinizing the group of humans who dared to approach him and his prey. “Speak, human.” “On behalf of the village of Rainy Grove, I am deeply sorry for the death of your son. A small group of our men committed an unforgivable act. However, the rest of my villagers are peaceful and were horrified at this. They are innocent. I must ask you what your intentions are regarding them.” The giant opened his fist and dropped the lifeless body. It landed inches from Randy. Randy scooted backward and retched as his late comrade’s skull cracked on a stone. “Human, I have no quarrel with your village. But I will take my revenge on my son’s murderers.” He glared at Randy before his gaze sought out Owen, who moaned and covered his face. Emery placed a hand on Owen’s trembling shoulder. “Giant, this boy did not shed your son’s blood. He is remorseful for what happened. Take your revenge on your son’s killers and leave him.” “He was one of them. My son’s blood is on his hands, and he must die.” Emery opened his mouth to respond, but Grace stepped forward, moving as close to the giant as she dared. “Giant, my brother is not a murderer.” Her voice trembled as she looked up, way up at the enormous face. “The whole village knows how gentle he his. He has never hurt anyone.” “Anyone except my son!” He snarled. Grace pointed at Randy with such violence that the giant raised his eyebrows. “He made my brother go hunting with them. Randy was always bullying him. He threatened—” Randy’s voice came out as a squeak. “I never—” “Silence!” roared the giant. He fixed his eyes on Grace. “Please…” she whispered. “Spare my brother’s life. He is all I have in this world. I’ll do anything!” Grace fell to her knees and gazed into the giant’s eyes. The giant studied Grace as she wept, her soft hair in disarray and her hands, red and calloused from years of work, clasped before her. His features began to soften as he took in her wet face, her patched dress, her vulnerability. His hand imperceptibly inched toward her. He caught himself and placed it on his knee. Owen hiccuped and blew his nose and the giant’s fingers clenched as he drew back, eyeing Owen with disgust and loathing as his features darkened again. He gestured to his son’s limp form and jabbed his finger into Owen’s midsection. “I will allow this fool to live for his sister’s sake, not for his own. But I have not finished. A human life in exchange for my son’s life,” he shouted, shaking the ground beneath them. “I will take one of your villagers as a servant, to work in my home. Choose someone to go with me, or I will destroy your village.” His broad shoulders slumped, Emery bowed his head. “I must accept your offer.” “You have exactly one day to produce my servant.” The giant’s fingers wrapped around Randy’s left leg and dragged him along the ground. Grace turned and followed the others back to the tavern without looking back, covering her ears as Randy’s piercing shrieks filled the air. She had saved her brother, but at what cost? ******* The sun rose over a perfectly circular expanse in the center of the village. It shone on the wooden platform that served as a stage during festivals, in happier times. Emery and three other village elders sat with Grace, Owen, and Will, surrounded by a scattering of villagers. Emery stood silently in the center, his gaze falling on each attendee in turn. The breeze ruffled his curly grey hair and beard as he sighed. “Friends, you know why we are here. Yesterday, the hunters killed the child of a giant. This giant has taken his revenge on the guilty parties, but justice must be completed by giving him a servant.” Emery turned to three men who were arguing in whispers. “What is it?” Andrew, a shepherd, stood up straight. “Chief Emery, we were just saying that no one has seen the giant since last night. Perhaps he was satisfied with his revenge and went home.” “Yes, where is the giant?” asked a woman behind Andrew. Elder Douglas gestured for silence. “After the giant killed Randy the hunter, I saw him take his son’s body in his arms. He left Rainy Grove and headed northwest. But his words were true. He will return.” “Yes, he will come for his servant,” Emery said. “In consequence, we must bid farewell to someone among us, someone who must go and serve the giant to save our village. We must choose here and now so that person can make arrangements for the journey.” A murmur traveled through the crowd. People shrank into their seats, whispered to their neighbors, or looked pointedly at the others. Robert the butcher pointed with what remained of his right index finger. “I think young Owen should go himself. I’ve got no problem with the boy but, you know, he’s responsible for this mess.” A few grunts of approval, as well as a few hisses, greeted Robert’s speech. “He’s right, Chief Emery,” said Owen. “I should have tried to save the child. I’ll go with the giant.” Grace took his hand. “No, Owen. You can’t go.” “She’s right,” said Will. “If you go, the giant is sure to kill you. He is grieving, and the sight of you will remind him of his son every day. He won’t be able to stand it, and one day he will lose his temper.” Will stood and faced Emery. “As Owen’s guardian, it is my responsibility to go in his place.” A frenzy of protest greeted his words. “Why you?” “Not you!” “What’ll happen to the Crazy Knight?” “You can’t—” “I’ll go!” The crowd, hushed, looked at Grace. “I’ll go. I told the giant I would do anything to save my brother’s life. I meant it.” “No. I can’t lose you,” whispered Owen. “Why not Jack?” asked a middle-aged woman in an apron, indicating the village drunk, who was reclining against a bench. The red-faced, bleary-eyed man shook himself out of his stupor. “Why should I go? I didn’t do anything!” “Well, no one would miss you!” Grace yanked her arms free from Will and Owen’s grasp. “I should go. It is my responsibility to go.” “She’s right, you know,” said the woman who had annoyed Grace at the tavern. She folded her pink arms over her chest and tossed her head with a smirk. “It’s none of our faults. Let her go with the giant.” “Quiet!” hissed the women on either side of her. “It’s true,” said Grace. She turned to Emery, who was regarding her intently, his face serious and compassionate. “You know that it’s true.” Grace gestured to the crowd. “They had nothing to do with this. It has to be me.” “You had nothing to do with it either,” said Owen. “This is all my fault. I should go. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. He can kill me if he wants to.” “No one has to die.” Grace’s voice was firm. Her features set, she turned to each of the elders, one by one. “I must go. It is the only way.” The other elders nodded at Emery. He closed his eyes for a few moments and bowed his head. He placed his trembling hands on Grace’s shoulders. “It is decided. You, my child, will go with the giant.”

#g/t #g/t community #g/t fluff #gt #gt fluff #gianttiny #Giant/tiny #giants

7 notes · View notes

kfawkes · 7 years ago

Text

We’ll talk about it Later - [Eggsy Unwin x Reader]

[Hi! Thanks for being so patient. This was pretty specific, and I tried to keep it pretty accurate to your request but sometimes the story just changes for me so it is a LITTLE bit different in terms of HOW Dean comes about gettin into a fight with them... BUT, it’s still the same idea, and I hope you enjoy this love! (If not please tell me and I will write yOU ANOTHER ONE THAT YOU LIKE MORE hahahah<3<3<3

**Also its sorta short, and I didn’t do a lot of passes over this one cause you guys have been waiting so patiently, so I just wanted to get something out ;.; Hope you like babes!)

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader -- Dean and Michelle // Pre Kingsman Eggsy

Words: 1.6K

Warnings: Cursing, abuse by Dean/him being a general ass, etc.

---Read on Ao3!]

“You bout ready t’go, luv?” Eggsy asked as a small smile crept the edges of his lips. “They gonna be back soon, best we split before that happens...”

You smiled sweetly as you nodded in agreement; sliding your fingers between his own in their perfect braid, pulling him from his room into the main one. “I’m ready, babe. Let’s ge--”

But before you could finish your sentence you heard a voice growing louder and a second later the door was pushed open forcefully as Dean walked through. His confidence seeping off of him like a cheap cologne as he pulled his bottle to his lips and cocked his head at the two of you. Immediately you noticed Eggsy’s posture straightened as he stiffened, pulling his cheek in to chew lightly with narrowed eyes on Dean.

“Well, well, well... look who’s ‘ere.” Dean stepped closer parting his lips as a wide, almost disturbing smile spread his drunken face. “Was you just gonna leave without kissin’ your mum bye, ol’, Muggsy?”

Eggsy held his tongue, glancing at you between clenched teeth with his brows dark and heavy. That look said what his mouth wouldn’t; that he was sorry. That he didn't want you here for what was probably going to happen...

A moment later Eggsy slid his gaze to meet Dean’s once more. Dean let a small chuckle pass as he tossed the empty bottle into the pile at the side; the clinking echoing in the otherwise silent flat, loud and persistent like bells. It was clear that Michelle and Dean had been fighting just before they’d entered... her face was red, and her eyes were still wet and slightly swollen; makeup smeared from wiped tears...

Eggsy pulled in a shallow breath, swallowing lightly as tossed his gaze towards his mum.

She was holding Daisy close to her chest, bobbing up and down as she stroke her soft dirty blonde hair from her post by the door; watching, pretending. Playing like everything was alright... like they hadn’t been arguing about something only moments before, and she must have known that she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Hello, mum... you okay?” he asked still not moving from his position, the booze filled scent of Dean’s breath surrounding him like a blanket; a sense of dread following shortly behind.

Michelle nodded profusely, forcing a smile that was no where near believable as she adjusted Daisy in her arms. When she spoke her voice was shaky, and she nearly started crying halfway through; tossing her hand to clear the evidence before it made its gentle decent down her cheek. “Course I am, luv... Now go on, get goin’ babe... We’ll see you soon.”

You still hadn’t said a word, but of course not. What could you say?

Dean looked back at Michelle, glaring daggers hot as fire. Michelle swallowed nervously, pressing her tongue to the tip of her lips as she looked away in fear like a cowering animal.

Having to sit back at watch this prick was getting difficult and you began to realize why everyone hated him so damn much... Yeah, you'd seen the ‘work’ he'd done on Eggsy, and you’d heard the stories... but seeing him walk and talk, and bark his words like they were scripture was something else.

More accurately it was infuriating.

“But we just got ‘ere, Muggsy... why leave, eh? Specially with a pretty little one like that with ya.”

You felt your cheeks growing red as you tossed your eyes to the ground, avoiding his. Eggsy was still holding your hand, and with it he pulled you slightly behind him; blocking Dean from you further.

Eggsy’s face was as hard as stone and he struggled to keep his composure when he spoke. “Leave her outta this you hear me?”

“Or what, Muggsy?” he threatened stepping closer, looking down on Eggsy with his height and belittling stare.

“Or I’ll bash your fuckin’ head in.” Eggsy’s voice was cold as ice, yet somehow oddly casual and every ounce of his tone run with truth. You’d never heard him talk like that, and you didn’t really know what to make of it.

Dean let out a soft, sinister laugh as he pulled his mouth into a tight scowl. A second later he looked back to Michelle offering a lazy shrug before turning and punching Eggsy square in the jaw; completely blindsiding him. Eggsy staggered back into you, and you both fell atop the table in the center of the room; sending cans and other tabletop junk about in a loud mess.

Eggsy pushed himself off of you quickly, kneeling at your side. He touched your face and hair lightly pulling your eyes to his. Once he’d seen you were okay he stood; shoving Dean backwards, only to be hit again.

Michelle was screaming for him to stop as he punched Eggsy in the gut, dropping him to his knees. You were still sitting on the table, watching wide eyed in fear... completely fucking frozen as you watch the man you love be beat to shit.

Then before you knew what you were doing you sprang to your feet just as Dean was kicking Eggsy in the chest. You weren't sure what came over you, but you lifted your leg and kicked him straight in the stomach... or maybe it was closer to his groin, it wasn’t like you were good at this kind of thing...

Wherever you’d hit him, the bottom line was it worked, and Dean flew backwards grabbing his chest as his face pulled about painfully. You leaned down to Eggsy sliding his face to your own, wiping the blood from his lip with your thumb.

“You li’le bitch.” Dean yelled rushing towards you; grabbing you by the back of your hair, yanking you forcefully to your feet with his fist.

You slid your own hands to where he gripped, grimacing and gritting your teeth in pain as you stagger to catch your balance. Michelle was shielding Daisy’s eyes, who was crying loudly now-- having no idea what was happening... From the corner of your eyes you could see that Eggsy was trying to pull himself from his knees. He was hunched over grabbing his stomach, struggling for control of his limbs.

“Fuckin’ let her go...”

Dean just yanked on your hair harder, pulling you around like a puppet. You moved your hands from his atop your head and began hitting him as best you could. Striking his neck, his face, grabbing at his ears and hair... then you took your elbow and rammed it hard into his stomach. He yelped loudly in pain as you slammed your foot down on his, causing him to throw you forward into the table you previously sat; another crescendo of clatter decorating the room.

Immediately you felt the crack of your wrist as it hit the table just right, and you couldn’t help but release a cry of pain.

“Get away from ‘em, Dean! Right now, or I’m callin’ the police.” Michelle yelled as Eggsy pulled you from your feet, ushering you past his mum and through the door.

-----

When you were done at the hospital you ended up with a broken wrist, and a killer headache. Eggsy got the worst of it, to no ones surprise: 2 strained ribs, a busted lip and bruised face to match and saying you two were tired didn’t really cover it. It was just after 2 am, and all you wanted was to get home and forget about this mess... to curl up and pass the fuck out.

Eggsy had been quite the whole way home, and you could tell by the face he wore that he was deep in thought. You’d liked to have known what was on his mind, but you knew when he was ready he’d tell you. Plus, you were pretty sure you already knew what was on his mind.

It was pretty obvious with how closely he held you. The way he glanced around as if he was on guard... and once you got to your flat and locked the doors he placed his hands to either side of your face tenderly; holding a look somewhere between agony and admiration, and you knew you were right.

“I’m so sorry, luv...” Eggsy shook his head defeatedly, pulling his lips to your forehead; holding them there as he slid one hand to the base of your neck. “I shouldna let him hurt you... I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“Eggsy, seriously? He was beating the shit out of you... I literally fucking spartan kicked him-- of course he was mad.” You knew he didn’t like that answer, but it was what you gave him and honestly you were just ready to fast forward to the part where this all was okay. “Come on... I looked pretty cool, didn’t I?”

He didn’t want to smile, and you knew that-- but a tiny smirk slipped as he let the smallest laugh escape; pulling you closer at your hips. “Yeah, alright... you looked pretty cool, I s’pose.”

“I’ve literally always wanted to do that to someone, Eggsy... you have no idea.” You slid your arms up his chest, and around his neck; looking up at him softly as you placed your lips lightly to his chin.

You knew this was serious, that what happened was bad-- really bad. That you shouldn’t be making shitty jokes... but you could deal with it later.

Right now you wanted to just be with him. You just wanted to forget the bulky cast on your arm and his cracked lip... Right now you just needed Eggsy, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that what he needed was you.

#Eggsy Imagine #Eggsy Unwin x reader #Eggsy x reader #Kingsman fic #fanfic #Kingsman #Eggsystential Crisis #prompt #ask #answered #hope you like!!#<3

233 notes · View notes

cheetahsprints · 7 years ago

Text

Weight of Stone

Summary: Cisco was getting himself in trouble, in more ways than one. But he would have to put that on the shelf, for the sake of the entire world. Word Count: 2772 Previous: Subtle Grace Next: Shattered Surface

Cisco was glad he didn't wear the fingerless gloves. Even a hint of contact, and Harry would be fully aware Cisco’s hidden truth. Harry’s hand seemed large in his grip. Cisco was looking into his eyes, for the first times, and having him look back. He still felt like he was going to wake up from this vivid dream. And he didn’t really sleep, only entered the occasional trance state to recharge, especially after vibing.

Cisco had allowed Harry to see him. It could be a fatal error or the best decision yet.

Most humans would have seen nothing but wings and a near blinding light. Harry could make him out, every detail. It was proof Harry was his soulmate. He hadn't wanted to believe it.

Unlike humans, who required physical contact, angels’ senses were affected immediately. He had been with Harry, 18, alone in his home, on his birthday. Cisco’s friends had pitied him for getting stuck with such an antisocial pain in the pass. But Cisco had been optimistic, he thought there could be more than meets the eye.

Harry’s schoolmates were jealous of him, or didn’t understand him, or they didn’t know what to do with his attitude. He had a pen pal from another state, no one else. And Cisco would read over his shoulder, to see that Harry never bared his soul or inner thoughts to that person. He was isolated and pretended to like it that way. His parents were distant as well. He didn’t even get the benefit of throwing wild parties while they were gone.

Bells had rang in Cisco’s head, the moment Harry had unknowingly looked into his eyes. Cisco’s nerve ends had been aflame. He knew.

“It never ends well,” Caitlin had warned him.

Her husband had been human. He had sacrificed his soul to save many lives. She was never the same. They renamed her Killer Frost, for how violently and ruthlessly she took out demons with her ice powers. Having simple small talk with her felt like walking on thin ice, pun absolutely intended. Cisco had thrown caution to the wind, despite all the warnings.

He had watched Harry grow and change, but not very much. He broke hearts. He yelled and cried. He met the love of his life, and Cisco helplessly watched her die. He saw the pride Harry had for his daughter. Cisco was remote yet ever present like the moon to the Earth. He could observe and not touch.

He fell in love with someone he could never speak with, someone who would live and die and never know him. Harry would’ve never knew he existed, that he had another soulmate in the universe. Or so Cisco had assumed.

Desperate to save the man he loved, he broke one of the most sacred laws: Don't Cheat Death.

But he couldn’t understand the justification. He had a daughter who still needed him. The loss of her father too would crush her young, innocent soul. Caitlin was Jesse’s guardian. She would find out soon, as Jesse had been told of her father’s demise before Cisco could revive him. He figured Harry would call her in private. He feared Caitlin’s reaction, and the outrage from the rest. Cisco didn’t have a good standing with the elder guardians already.

Revealing himself to Harry had been necessary. They could only do this together.

He would have to duel Death herself. She wouldn’t stop until Harry was no longer for this world. It was gossiped among the angels that he had not unlocked the full scope of his abilities. That if he did, he could be strong enough to challenge the Archangel or even Death. She chartered souls, kept the balance of the circle of life.

She would take Harry over Cisco’s corpse. He had a sinking feeling that was the most likely result. But he would go down fighting. She would pry Harry from Cisco’s cold, limp fingers or never have him at all, those were the only two options.

In the present, Cisco lingered too long. Harry tilted his head, squinting as though Cisco was the most intriguing puzzle. Cisco blushed and yanked his hand back. He cleared his throat and situated himself on the arm of the couch. Cisco kicked off his golden sandals and put his feet on the cushion. He stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth. Harry’s lip curled, informing Cisco he successfully broken the moment. He found himself missing Harry’s scrutiny. Cisco had yearned to be the object of his laser focus for years.

Cisco was weak. He shouldn’t allow himself to easily fall into human trappings. He was beyond getting lost in a stupid, futile little crush. At the end of the episode, Harry had ants in his pants. If he had worn any. He repeatedly shifted on the couch. Cisco leaned back and put his hands behind his head, eyes following Harry as he went off to his bedroom in a tizzy.

He reappeared fully dressed and carrying car keys. “I can’t idle here when there’s potential discoveries waiting for me. Let’s go.”

“Bossypants,” Cisco mumbled. He went, not like he had something better to do. He flew above Harry, admiring his expensive car. The model wasn’t even on the market yet. Harry spoiled himself in some ways, deprived himself in others. Such as sleep. And socialization.

“Welcome to STAR labs,” Harry announced. “It’s been the leading facilitator of genius and innovation for -”

Cisco rolled his eyes unseen. “I know.”

Harry gave him a dirty look and breezed down the hallway. Cisco fluttered after him. It was quite spacious which he approved of. They came to a fairly empty space. A single glass board housed Harry’s equations. It was where Harry came to be utterly alone.

“I can make some adjustments, turn this into a training room.”

They set to work. Various projects were labeled and stacked onto shelves in the storage closet. Being marginally stronger, Cisco moved most of the tables. Meanwhile, he snuck glances at Harry as he assisted. Cisco never invaded his privacy so far to see him totally naked, but he knew what Harry looked like underneath his sweaters, cardigans, and jackets. For a mortal his age, he was ridiculously fit.

Harry left a computer station in part of the space. He sat in the chair and asked Cisco about his powers. He explained how he could see the past, present, and future. He added that he could feel the vibrations of the universe, open breaches in the space-time continuum, and shoot blasts from his hands. Harry stopped and stared a few times, trying to wrap his head around it all. Cisco’s abilities must have been a marvel.

He decided not to explain the multiverse to Harry yet. That might be a bit too much.

Harry began setting up targets. Most of them were pop outs on a course, reminding him of Men in Black. To his embarrassment, he mostly screamed in surprise and either missed or blasted the wrong target. When he glanced at Harry, the idiot mortal was obviously trying not to laugh his head off. At least he understood that wouldn’t encourage Cisco much.

“This isn’t working!” Cisco threw up his hands. He jumped up on a desk and crossed his arms. He knew he looked like a petulant child.

Harry waved, “There is no sitting on desks in this laboratory. Honestly.”

Cisco stuck his tongue out but hopped down. Harry stepped close to him. Their noses almost touched. His breath puffed hot over his mouth. Cisco trembled with the need to get in closer. He restrained himself by a thread. Harry smiled like he knew exactly the effect he had.

“You will get this. Try. Again.”

His voice was rough. It dragged Cisco over the rocks and dashed him against the cliffside. He raised his arm. To his credit, Harry didn't flinch. Cisco shot the vibe blast past his shoulder, hitting the roving target on the bullseye. He blew on his knuckles and grinned.

Harry didn't turn to look. “Good job.”

Harry continued, “Time for a break.”

Cisco thought he was hallucinating. He knew Harry didn't take breaks. He seemed to enjoy working himself into the ground. But of course, Harry went to the board and began writing and drawing diagrams. He only meant Cisco.

He returned to his roots of silent observation. Watching Harry work was his favorite pastime. He blinked and realized Harry was working on something to channel and guide his power. Angels always just used their powers, they never built anything to refine control. Perhaps he should bring that to the table during the next meeting.

They’d probably laugh him right out. He was young by angel standards, which usually assumed inexperience and incompetence. He had a hard time proving he wasn't a fledgling anymore.

Harry became stumped. He growled and rubbed his mouth. He pushed up his glasses then took the off entirely. Cisco held in the urge to giggle at his frustration. Harry’s marker ran dry. He gave up fast on shaking it and threw it in a sharp flick if his wrist. Cisco reacted, sending it through a breach. The marker hit Harry square in the forehead. Cisco snorted. Harry jerked belatedly and glared at him. Cisco completely lost his shit and bent his knees. He desperately sucked in air past his chortling.

“Ramon. Why am I putting up with you again?”

Cisco breathed in deep. He gasped, “Because we need each other. To stop that murderous fiend.”

“Right. A little professionalism would be appreciated.”

“Because throwing a marker is professional?” Cisco almost bopped him on the nose with his index finger. He stopped his hand just in time. Harry went cross-eyed, then took a wide step backward.

“It’s part of my thought process. I am channeling my frustration into the marker, instead of giving you a bloody nose.”

“I’m an angel. You know that would just break your hand.” Cisco put his hands on his hips. Harry copied him. Cisco’s head dropped as he was hit by a round of chuckles.

“Then you’d have to listen to me complain,” Harry said, “So it’s a win-win situation.”

“If you say so.”

Cisco turned to examine the remaining contents of the desk. He curiously picked up an old fashioned war helmet. A wave of nausea hit him. His falling adrenaline spiked again. He was vibing. He was seeing Hunter Zolomon, the speed devil that had almost killed Harry. He was dressed in a monsterous blue outfit. They were in a parking lot somewhere. He let the waves of the universe pull him.

Zolomon shouted, “You think you stand a chance alone Flash?”

“I'm not alone,” spoke another leather clad speedster in red. Another in yellow joined him.

“You’re done terrorizing this town, Zoom.”

Cisco didn’t recognize their voices. His mind immediately supplied improvements for the red suit. The yellow seemed well developed. He wouldn't touch Zolomon with a nine foot pole. It was bizarre. Cisco figured it was set in the future, but it wasn’t apparent how far. They all sped off, leaving trails of multi-color lightning.

He gasped for air, Harry's visage appearing before him. His expression was tight. Cisco was collapsed against a work table, wings fluttering urgently. Harry started to reach out, halting the motion and wiping his hand on his sweater. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Are you alright?”

“I had a vision - hard to explain -”

“Save it, you can barely breathe.”

Cisco appreciated that. Harry had a soul after all. There was hope for him. He thought about his vision. The angels’ database only had five known speedsters that had visited or were born on this Earth: Hunter Zolomon (born), Jay Garrick (visitor), Johnny Quick (visitor), Wally West (born), and one whose other identity was unknown. Speedsters didn’t have guardian angels, and angels weren’t omniscient. Additionally, speedsters could see angels and easily disguise themselves.

Something about the scarlet speedster wiggled in the back of his mind.

Iris West-Allen. She had written chronicles of central city’s very own hero called the Flash. He was one of the speedsters they had referred to as a speed angel. He was the real deal. The other, Wally, hadn’t yet come into his own. Cisco didn't entirely trust him, but the Flash did good work. He could try to find out more from Iris’s guardian, Linda.

Harry snapped his fingers in front of Cisco’s face. So much for being nice.

“I'm going to run to Big Belly. Do you want anything?”

He must have asked Cisco several times, judging by his tone. Cisco understood him getting irritated over his unresponsiveness. Cisco hated repeated himself. It made him feel like he wasn’t important enough to the person to be listened to, and it happened quite often among his kind. He felt invisible sometimes.

“Two triple triples and a jamocha milkshake.” Cisco added, “Please and thank you.”

Someone around here had to show some manners.

“I supposed I'm buying. Can't you just make it -”

“Against the rules.”

Better to be as much of a stickler as possible. If not with the angel of Death, at least he could plead a case with the guardians. Digging a deeper hole wouldn't help his case. He already had a reputation of borderline reckless behavior. Harry gave a short nod and headed out.

“He’s hot.” Cisco literally flew to the ceiling due to that sudden voice behind him.

“If you haven’t hit that yet, I don’t know what you’re waiting for, Vibe.”

“Rathaway you jackhole! Why didn’t you let me see you?”

Hartley snickered. “And miss the chance to scare the feathers off of you? No way.”

“Jerk. As I live and breath you are my least favorite person. What do you want?”

Inside, Cisco was screaming. Hartley rarely left his charge, David Singh, unless it was an absolute emergency. Hartley was obsessed with him, but Singh was happily married. It had showed no signs of deterioration. He would feel some sympathy for Hartley, if he wasn’t such an asshat. He braced himself as Hartley’s expression became somber.

“This isn’t a social call.”

“No really, because we should totally hang out more. Get on with it maybe?” Cisco noticed he was still holding the helmet. He dropped it to the floor in disgust. He would have to ask where Harry even found the thing, it radiated evil.

Hartley told him gravely, “The Archangel Nora is dead. She was murdered by a speed devil.”

Speedsters were the forbidden children of an angel and a human. They usually went bad at some point. Cisco just spun and gaped at the tattered cardboard. He couldn’t bear the alarm in Hartley’s eyes. If Hartley was spooked, that wasn’t a good sign. It was an alarm screeching at everyone to get out of town or die. Hartley blew out air behind him, the heaviness of the situation apparent in even that sound.

“We're having a meeting to vote in a new leader. Quickly finish up -- uh -- whatever the hell you were doing.”

Hartley cloaked himself. He was gone as sudden as he appeared. It was typical Hartley. Cisco couldn’t shake the look on Hartley’s face. He was scared. Hartley was an elder angel. The last time anyone heard of an elder angel being frightened out of their wits was World War II. The last time an Archangel had died -- humans hadn’t truly existed yet. Angels had looked more like Archaeopteryx than apes. They were a mostly incorporeal, adaptable species that took the shape of the dominant life form, in order to connect with and understand them.

The loss of an Archangel was an omen of the highest order. It was a harbinger of extinction.

“This is really bad, like over 9000 levels of badness,” Cisco said to himself.

Cisco’s wings unfurled, preparing for him to take flight. With the fear flooding his system, he might shake himself apart with vibes at any moment. Probably not the best time to leave someone who was helping him control his vibes. Harry grabbed Cisco’s wrist, sending goosebumps along his entire arm. Cisco had missed his return, despite facing the doorway. Harry dropped his bags on the floor and squeezed.

“What's wrong?” Harry released him, blanching at the contact. He had received his sign. Cisco froze, his wings wrapping around him protectively.

“I’m sorry I can’t - I. We’ll talk about this later,” Cisco said in a rush. “There’s this speedster - the Archangel’s dead and I - I gotta go!”

Before Harry could get out a single word, Cisco vanished through a breach.

#harrisco #guardian angel au #soulmate au #actual angel Cisco Ramon #my fic #I can't stop writing at work gdi #random name drops #A wild Hartley appears #three guesses who the angel of death is c'mon I gave you the gender #I might continue this but ugh no guarantees #plot isn't my strong suit

7 notes · View notes

multifandomhaven · 7 years ago

Text

As Long As You’ll Have Me

Arya Stark x female!reader imagine.

Request by lovely-wagner

This is a longer imagine, I tried to cram all 7 seasons into a one-shot. I’m not very good at kiss scenes, so I apologize in advance if it’s completely horrible.

Happy reading, and remember request are open! x

Winterfell was different now, Y/N thought looking around the small stone room that had been gifted to her by Jon and Sansa just after the Battle of the Bastards was won.

They had told her that's what Arya would have wanted, for Y/N to stay at Winterfell with their home won back. Y/N had accepted graciously, happy to have her childhood home back.

Y/N's family had always been close with the Starks, she'd been taken in as a ward just as Theon had been, only shortly before her sixth nameday.

Her parents had lost their only son and her father Lord Y/L/N had began to go mad with rage - he had lost his only heir, the only little lord that he saw fit to leave his house to.

Y/N had grown scared of her father, and her mother knew what she had to do to save her daughter’s life. Within the fortnight Y/N was sent, with a group of Stark soldiers that had come to escort her, to the castle further north.

Y/N was withdrawn when she first came to Winterfell. She felt unwelcome in the eyes of the Stark's mother, Catelyn. The red haired woman was tall and cold and watched her with an unwavering glare. Y/N cried herself to sleep every night after she arrived.

It wasn't her fault, she thought as she cried, it was her mother and her father's fault. She hadn't asked to be sent here to this strange place.

Every night she bawled beneath the furs on her bed until the youngest daughter of the Starks, Arya, had heard her relentless sobbing one night.

Arya peeked through the crack of Y/N's door, her wondering eyes taking in the small, shaking lump on the bed. Arya put her hand on the door and it creaked open to reveal the lump was actually a young girl - her family's newest ward.

"Are you alright?" Arya asked quietly, her dark brows furrowed. "Should I call my mother or the maester?"

Y/N's head flew up, her hair that had fell from it's braid looked a bit wonky, sticking out from both sides of her head. "N-No, my lady. I only miss my family is all. It's nothing your mother or your maester can remedy."

Arya's heart ached for the girl. She didn't know what it was like to be taken away from her family, and would rather be ignorant to the feeling if she were to be honest.

Arya walked quietly to the bed, chewing her lip in thought. "I know you're lonely, but you'll find happiness here if you try. I can help you!”

Y/N sniffed. "T-Thank you."

"You're welcome," Arya smiled. "If you ever feel unsafe or alone my room is just down the hall. You don't have to sleep by yourself if you don't want to."

Y/N nodded, a yawn escaping her not two second later. "I apologize, my lady. I haven't slept well, you see."

"It's alright," Arya whispered. "Get some sleep, Y/N. I'll come get you in the morning."

After that night Y/N and Arya had been inseparable - where you found one the other was sure to be only seconds behind. Their friendship had blossomed over night and when Arya was sent to King's Landing with Lord Eddard and Sansa Y/N felt like she was that small girl again, crying in her bed once the darkness overtook the castle.

Y/N was there as Bran got better, she was there when Robb and Catelyn got killed. She was there when Theon sacked their home - she'd hidden under the bed in Arya's old room when it had happened, listening as people screamed around her - and she had survived.

And then there were the Boltons, by the Gods they'd almost been the death of her. She thought she'd die so many times it felt like the finality of death was a long lost friend.

She tried to hide the scars on her arms where the bastard had began to flay her. Had it not been for Jon and Sansa reclaiming their home later that day she was sure she would have been dead come nightfall.

Ramsay was a sadistic man that was undeserving of the end Sansa gave him.

Y/N had wished to flay the man himself, to end him the same way he had so many others, but Sansa reminded her that he may enjoy leaving the world that way. He should have suffered, Y/N thought.

Y/N knew that she had no place giving orders to a Stark, so she stepped back and let Sansa have him killed in whatever way she chose - he had done so much worse to Sansa than herself, she remembered.

She had never felt a great joy than when a group of Stark soldiers had taken her down from the platform she was strapped to. They had done her a courtsey and turned as she pulled on a robe they had found discarded.

Y/N was ashamed of what had been done, but she never stopped fighting for her home.

"Y/N." Sansa's voice brought her back to the present. Y/N looked at the red haired girl that looked so much like her mother Catelyn, and wondered about the smile that threatened to split her face. "Someone’s arrived and they wish to speak with you."

"Someone to see me?" Y/N asked, her eyebrows raised high. "Who in the seven hells would come to see me?"

"Well," Sansa began, her thin lips stretched to their length's end, and moved aside to let Y/N's visitor inside the room.

For a moment all was still in the world. No breath left Y/N's lips and no movement was made from the inside the room. The only thing Y/N could hear was the background noise outside those cold walls.

In her room, right before her eyes, stood the only person Y/N could think about all those times death almost claimed her.

She looked different than Y/N remembered. Her once long hair had been crudely cut, now hanging just above her shoulders, and she wore breeches now.

Her eyes, thought Y/N, hadn't changed at all, though. They were still the same sage color she seemed to drown in each time she remembered the young wolf.

"Arya," Y/N whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Arya stepped into the room and Sansa slipped quietly from the room, shutting the door behind her. The two girls stood in silence for a few moments, both taking their fill of the other before Arya began to creep forward slowly.

"I never thought I'd be back here," Arya said in a voice little above a whisper. "And I never thought you'd still be in Winterfell after all this time."

Y/N shook her head sadly, tears now falling freely down her reddened cheeks. "Oh, Arya. Where have you been all these years? What happened to you after King's Landing?"

Arya lips twitched upwards. "I've been all around Westeros. I've traveled with bandits, and with killers. I became No One and lived to reclaim my identity. I've avenged and I've killed."

"You're home," Y/N dried her eyes on her sleve. They stood nearly nose and nose now, both of them bleary eyed from the wetness that piled in the corners of their eyes. "You've come back to me."

"And you?" Arya said quietly. "How did you survive the raids on our home?"

Y/N stared at the ground in silence wringing her hands. She sucked a deep breath through her lips to calm her crying, then cleared her throat.

"I thought of your parents taking me in - they gave me a place to live, food to eat,” she admitted softly. “Someone to love.”

Arya blinked. "Someone to love?"

"Yes." Y/N breathed. "Someone I've loved for a long, long time." Y/N raised her arm slowly, her hand reaching out to Arya's face to caress her cheek.

"Arya, you are what kept me alive when death was so very near. It was you I thought of when the coldness almost claimed me. It has always been you that I cared the most for."

Arya's bottom lip quivered slightly. "And I you.”

Y/N's hand rested on the nape of Arya's neck, playing with the ends of her nut brown hair. "Promise me you'll never leave again."

"I promise," Arya whispered.

Their breaths danced together as their faces inched closer and closer. Y/N felt her eyes slid shut at the closeness of Arya, wanting nothing more than to lean in a hair's width and kiss her.

"I've never kissed anyone before," Arya admitted. "I've never wanted to before now."

Y/N's tongue darted out to wet her lips, her eyes opening. She saw the darkness in Arya's eyes and hoped that she wanted this much as Y/N did. "May I?"

The Stark girl said nothing so Y/N took it upon herself to use the hand on the back of Arya's neck to softly pull her in, giving her any opportunity to pull away if she so wished.

Arya's lips felt much like Y/N thought they would. Hard, but not rough, soft, but not like the pillows they'd shared as children. Y/N thought it a good combination for the young wolf.

Arya didn't know what to do with her hands so she simply let them rest on Y/N's waist - she'd seen people kiss before, but never really paid much attention to where their hands went. It felt right, to be able to feel the person she’d so wished to see for so long. Arya’s hands tightened on Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss lasted only for a moment longer before Y/N pulled away breathless. She leaned her forehead against Arya’s her eyes still closed.

"Was that okay?"

"It was more than okay," Arya breathed, still holding the girl close to her. Y/N opened her eyes and pulled back slightly to get a better view of Arya. "I'm glad you did it, I never would have thought you felt this way about me."

Y/N felt herself stiffen at her words. "Am I mad to think you could ever feel the same about me?"

"You're not mad," Arya said with a grin. "I always felt something for you that I didn't understand. As I grew older and saw the horrors of the world,” Arya paused momentarily, her eyes somewhere far away. “I could think of nothing better than growing old in my home - our home."

Y/N nodded. "It's understandable you'd want to be home, I wish I could have done something about your mother, your father. Robb -" Arya cut her off.

"I miss them more than you can imagine," she said sadly. "But I still have Jon and Sansa and Bran. And I still have you."

Y/N's smile rivaled that of Sansa's as she stood in the doorway just a few moments ago. "And I you, little wolf."

Arya leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a single, brief peck. "I will never leave you again, as long as you'll have me."

#arya stark x reader #arya stark x female!reader #game of thrones imagines #imagininggameofthrones #reader insert #not my gif

406 notes · View notes

baileysgrant-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Real Life Prisoner (Part 3)

***If you have not read part 1, please do so before reading this or it will not make sense.***

DISCLAIMER: I take no credit for the original work. All credit goes to the original author of Prisoner. This imagine, as well as the prior one, is simply built off of the reader & Ethan reading the actual fanfic.

A ton of invisible bricks had been placed on your chest, threatening to burst through your walls. You felt like you were smothering. Your mind had kicked into overdrive, with no signs of coming to a halt or slowing down.

Your eyes met your boyfriend’s, who was standing beside of Grayson. You then pried them off of Ethan to focus on Grayson’s expression, which had completely shifted. His facial expression was much softer, & the tears that once stained his cheeks were now nonexistent. It’s almost like he had flipped a switch. You had no time to concentrate or ask questions, though, because you were now face-to-face with Ethan, who was smiling in your direction & closing the distance between the two of you.

You stood perfectly still, unable to move a muscle. Your eyes looked into his, & for a minute, you refused to believe it. You refused to believe that those innocent eyes were capable of figuratively turning into a dark shade of red: the color of blood.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his muscular build press against you. He secured you in his arms, but you didn’t reciprocate. Instead, you waited for the moment that you were released from his hold so that you could breathe again.

When Ethan took a few steps back, you opened your eyes to focus on him. He jingled his keys in his hands & looked at Grayson, who had a blank expression. Maybe that was Grayson’s way of hiding his fear of his own brother. Maybe he had to pretend to be emotionless to stay alive.

“I guess we’re ready for some froyo. Why don’t you get your shoes on, Y/N?” Ethan spoke, but never looked at you. His eyes were on Grayson, who refused to make eye contact with his own brother.

You didn’t want to leave Grayson alone; not with Ethan acting a bit darker than usual, but you also didn’t want to disobey your boyfriend. After all, he had just confessed to being a killer. Until you could make your escape, you were stuck with having to answer to his every request.

You nodded & walked down the hall toward the front door, where you quickly slipped your shoes on. You backed yourself against the nearest wall, out of sight from the twins, & began to breathe heavily. You closed your eyes & slowly slid your back down the wall until you were sitting on the cold floor.

Your breathing started to slow, & when your breaths became more natural & silent, you heard Ethan mumbling from down the hall. Your eyes widened as you tried your hardest to eavesdrop. Your paranoid mind ran at the speed of light, & you planted it in your head that they were talking about how Grayson was suddenly acting so odd, making this situation a one person game instead of two.

It was no secret that Grayson loved his twin brother, but would he cover up the blood on Ethan’s hands for the rest of his life? Grayson Dolan was capable of doing no such thing.

Fearing that you were already gone long enough for Ethan to show concern, you got back onto your feet & approached the twins once more. Ethan closed his lips & side-eyed you, clearing his throat & taking a step back from his brother soon after.

Ethan didn’t make a sound. He simply stared at you. You were a fearful girl, but the shivers that ran down your spine at that very moment were like none other. His stone cold stare felt like it was burning a hole through your flesh, but at the same time, it was Ethan. You’d let him. You loved him.

Finally, Ethan broke the silence.

“Actually, this is the wrong set of keys.” Ethan furrowed his thick brows & looked down to his hand, where the keys were dangling from the chain. “I’ll be right back.”

Ethan disappeared around the corner again & you turned to face Grayson, who startled you by immediately putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen to me.” Grayson said in a soft voice, but not necessarily a whisper. “I won’t let him do anything to you. You know that. We’ve been best buds since you two started dating. I feel like you’re my sister now. I regret letting you get into this mess, but I promise you, I will get you out.”

You tangled your hands in your hair & pulled, feeling like you were going out of your mind with everything that had been thrown on you at such a random time.

“Gray, I-I’m not really worried about me right now. What about you?”

Grayson clenched his jaw & flared out his nostrils, seemingly falling into deep thought, yet trying to answer your question as soon as possible.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve made it this long keeping his nasty secret, so he can’t get rid of me now. Now go. Get out.” Grayson gave your shoulders a gentle shove, as if he was trying to hurry you along.

You knew you had to make a choice. Either you left, or you stayed & acted like you had seen a ghost, which would only make Ethan more frazzled. You knew good & well that Ethan in that state was no good for anyone.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth & gave Grayson a nod. You whipped your head around, only to gasp & see nothing but darkness. You felt a black cloth material being placed over your eyes, making it impossible for you to see anything. It was tied tightly at the back of your head by quick, large hands, which belongs to Ethan. You grabbed his wrists as tight as possible, but he still managed to break free and throw you over his shoulder.

“Ethan! Let me go! Put me down! Please!” You heard your own voice crack. You could feel yourself becoming more & more terrified by the second as he walked you toward his bed.

“Dude, let her go!” You heard Grayson shout. You could tell by the tone of his voice that the anger in him was coming out.

He placed you down on his bed, your legs hanging over the edge as you sat straight up. He grabbed you by your arms and tied your wrists behind your back.

“Ethan! Stop it!” You were now screaming, which was causing your heart to race in response.

Suddenly, you saw light again. The first thing you saw after the blindfold was removed was Ethan’s face. He had an expression that you couldn’t read, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

“Y/N, I’m very sorry, but I don’t trust you to be quiet.” He uses the blindfold to cover your mouth & ties it around the back of your head. He then leans into your ear, close enough that his lips graze along your skin when he whispers. “Daddy knows you never are.”

You tried to scream against the fabric, but the sound came out extremely muffled. You started to squirm & kick, but Ethan places his hands on your knees, forcing your legs down.

“Let’s not get carried away, babe. Remember what I said about you being smart?” Ethan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which was now beaded with sweat.

As he backed away, you looked at him through tear-filled eyes. Suddenly, you heard a faint buzzing noise & saw Ethan go stiff, only moments before he fell to the ground. Grayson came into view with a taser, which they had used for fun in their videos multiple times. Who knew Grayson would actually have to use it for real one day.

Grayson threw the taser to the side & leaned over, grabbing his groaning brother by the shirt & yanking him to his feet. The veins in Grayson’s arms became very distinct as he held up his brother’s limp body. Grayson then backed him against the wall & held him up by his shirt collar.

“Stop. You don’t have to do this to this innocent girl, your girlfriend!” Grayson yelled in his face, making it obvious that he was filled with rage. “You let her go, or I will hurt you.”

The room was silent, except for your labored breathing. Your legs weren’t tied down, but you were far too terrified to move. Besides, there was nothing you could do.

Ethan furrowed his brows & looked into his brothers eyes. Slowly, almost deviously, his lips curved into a smile.

“Wow.” Ethan said in a rough voice. “You would really go against your flesh & blood like that, Gray? We shared a womb, bro. Now you’re betraying me like this?”

Grayson’s angry expression remained constant for what felt like forever, but suddenly, you could just see his facial features soften. You could see the veins in his arms gradually become smaller & smaller as Ethan was placed back onto his feet. The grip on Ethan’s collar was the last to go.

“Great. Now that we understand each other...” Ethan’s fist collided with Grayson’s stomach, which clearly knocked the breath out of him. He curled up into a ball on the ground, facing you. You started sobbing when you saw the look of pain on Grayson’s face. You couldn’t understand why Grayson let his brother win, but at the same time, it wasn’t that hard. Even with Ethan’s mistake, Grayson loved him anyway, & that brotherly love conquered anything & everything. Grayson would die for Ethan, & maybe that’s how his story ends.

Suddenly, you look up to see Ethan standing over you. He lowers himself at an agonizingly pace in front of you until he is squatting directly in front of you. His hands rested on your knees, which were trembling.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that, princess. I told him he should’ve stayed quiet.” Ethan turned his head to look at his brother, who was whimpering softly, but it was fading. He then returned his focus to you.

“Now, back to the topic of the day. You never asked why I did it, or who I did it to.” You blinked a few tears from your eyes, which led Ethan to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. Goosebumps raised underneath his touch.

Ethan tilted his head slightly to the side as he stood once again, looking down at you.

“I had a good reason for murdering my so called friends, you know.” He began to slowly pace the room as he spoke, his hands behind his back.

“They were bullies. Cruel, heartless bullies.” He paused, staring at the ground like he was getting lost deep within his own thoughts.

“They bullied us. They made fun of our looks, our personalities, & our dreams. They never accepted us. They only wanted to bring us to their level & kick us while we were down.”

Ethan slowly walked over to Grayson. “Oh, & this guy-” Ethan kicked Grayson in the back, causing him to yell out in pain. “Well, he just wanted to let everything happen. He didn’t want to start any trouble, but I couldn’t just sit back & let them destroy our lives. I had to do something for me; for us.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours once again. He slowly approached you & bent over, his face a comfortable few inches from yours.

“I’m not going to tell you how, but they got what they deserved. They made their bed, now they’re laying in it.” The back of Ethan’s hand caressed your face.

Even though what Ethan did was sick & twisted, you felt yourself becoming heartbroken. He had never told you about him being bullied in school before, especially not how deep it went. Still, his actions weren’t justified, & you were still trembling in fear as you looked into your boyfriends eyes.

“Now that you know my story, I’m going to take this out of your mouth now. But it’s our little secret, & you keep quiet, okay?” Ethan arched a brow, looking down at you for a sign of approval.

You slowly nodded & let out a shaky breath. As soon as Ethan untied you, you gasped for air & began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Ethan, I promise, I won’t tell anyone! You can trust me! I won’t g-go to the police or anything, I just want to go home! I won’t even say hi to my parents, I’ll just go straight to bed & pretend this never happened! P-Please just-”

You were beyond a nervous wreck. You were rambling at a speed you never dreamed was possible.

Suddenly, as you looked up at Ethan, he tucked his lips between his teeth, desperately trying to contain his smile. Directly behind him, Grayson bursts out in laughter. Ethan contained his, but a wide smile broke free.

“What’s....what’s funny?” You looked at Grayson, then back at Ethan.

“Oh. My. God.” Ethan covered his face & turned around. You slowly stood behind him, still to shaken up to rid yourself of the confusion.

You looked at Grayson, who was wheezing & bent over, looking like he was going to fall down any second. You looked back at Ethan, who was apparently too smiley to get a word out.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” Just like that, it clicked. You felt your body go numb, before all the adrenaline started flowing through your veins.

You punched Ethan in the chest as hard as you could, which ended up making your fist throb. “You assholes! I can’t- I don’t- You are both messed up!”

Rage took over your entire body, but you weren’t sure if the tears that soon followed was from that, relief, or embarrassment; probably a mixture of all three.

“Don’t cry, I’m sorry...” Ethan was trying to be sympathetic, but his laughter was evident in his voice as he wrapped his arms around you. “I honestly didn’t think this would actually work. Now I feel bad.”

You cried into your hands, which were pressed against his chest. You gasped for air in between sobs, unable to respond to him. You knew this would all be funny to them for a very long time, but you were on the verge of a heart attack.

You felt Grayson hug you from behind. You couldn’t control your sobs long enough to push either guy off.

“I knew you were gullible, but I didn’t realize how bad it was. I only agreed to do this with him because I never thought you’d fall for it!”

“Oh sure, throw me under the bus just like that, Gray.” Ethan smirked & loosed his grip on you. He kept one hand placed on your back, but the other wrapped loosely around your wrist, attempting to pull your hand away from your face.

You used all your strength to continue covering your face. You didn’t want them to see your bloodshot eyes & red face. You knew that you couldn’t hide your face forever, though, so you slowly spread your fingers & peaked up at Ethan through them. His facial expression was soft & his smile was bright, which automatically made you feel warm inside. However, you still hated him with every fiber of your being at that moment.

“You can come out now. We’re sorry.” Ethan said, attempting to hide a laugh.

“I feel awful, oh my gosh.” Grayson said, not able to control his amusement.

You finally revealed your face by running your hands down your cheeks, your mascara making your entire face black. Apparently the laughter was contagious, because you started chuckling involuntarily.

“I honestly hate both of you right now.” You said with a smile, but punched your boyfriend in the chest & wiggled out of his grip.

“If it makes you feel any better, my back is killing me.” Grayson winced & placed his hand on his back & bent over slightly.

“I thought we agreed on not actually tasing me, bro?” Ethan smirked at Grayson, who grinned.

“Yeah, & you didn’t have to break my back either.” Grayson straightened his back slowly & groaned quietly.

You sighed & looked at Ethan. A small, soft smile appeared as you shook your head at him. “You’re honestly the worst boyfriend in the universe.”

Ethan grinned & ran the pad of his thumb along your cheek. “I’m sorry. I won’t even post the video.”

Your eyes grew wide. “What video?” Your eyes scanned the room & locked with the hidden cameras, as well as the one that Ethan said he had turned off after the two of you had filmed.

Ethan laughed & you simply stared at the ceiling, a devious smirk claiming your lips. “You know what, post it. It’ll get a lot of views, daddy.”

Your eyes fell to meet his. His had wiped the smile off his face & cleared his throat. “Y/N, that slipped out. I didn’t mean to say that.” He whispered. My, my, how the tables had turned.

“You know, I kind of like it.” You smiled, knowing that the word made him nauseous.

“Y/N, stop. It’s not-”

“What’s wrong, daddy? Being a bad sport?” Ethan gagged & walked out of the room. You turned to Grayson, who was laughing once again.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I wanted that scandalous tat kept a secret.” Grayson’s smile faded at record speed.

You were left in the room all alone, giving you plenty of silence to plot your revenge prank.

#ethan #dolan #ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagines #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #dolan twims imagines

51 notes · View notes

gregnas-the-grouch · 7 years ago

Text

Rage Incarnate Pt 1

“You will know death.”

The words rang through Yemir’s head like a gong, her consciousness ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide. Only to suddenly jolt awake as she felt a sharp pain piece her wounded chest, her ragged breathing becoming more shallow, if but for a moment. Darkness permeated every corner of this place, yet, as Yemir’s mind became more clear. Her memory came rushing back in. She was in a cave, had been for some time. And the source of the pain she felt was none other than her twisted sister, Whisper. Even with her vision distorted, Yemir could still recognize the insidious wraith’s form, let alone her malicious voice.

“Oh Yemir, I know you’re a bit thickheaded, but even you’re proving to be, how should I say, resilient. Honestly, you’re giving me a run for my money here!” Whisper chuckled, stroking Yemir’s bleeding head ever so tenderly as she gently slid a rotting hand over the Gallade’s cut cheek. Savoring the wound, if only for a second before yanking back her hand as the younger sister snapped at her, baring her sharp teeth. If but for a moment, Yemir seemed alert and aware, only to slump back into her drunken stupor. The silent echo of the cave the two found themselves seemed to only reflect the expression on Yemir’s face, dull and lifeless.

How long had it been now? How many days had passed by, enduring this silent hell as Whisper repeatedly cut into her flesh, over and over again in the oppressive veil of some unknown cavern. Her body displayed many scars from the various cut and burns inflicted upon her by Whisper, even in the dark, it wasn’t too hard for Yemir to make them out, ghost genetics be damned. A puddle of brackish purple blood and an assortment of severed fingers, nails, teeth and skin piled below her. Her regeneration was impressive, yes. But it did little to diminish the agony pulsing through her body. Hung on these chain like meat left to bleed dry, the hooks piercing her flesh as some unknown force kept the Gallade from going too far. Not like it mattered. Her strength had diminished, her spirit, drained. Amidst all the purple blood seeping from her wounds, one could see veins protruding from the Gallade’s skin, dark and swollen. And though Yemir made no notice of it, Whisper knew all too well what this meant. The Dusknoir narrowed her eye, delicately sliding a poker between her rancid fingers before abruptly thrusting the tip into the side of Yemir’s chest.

The Gallade roared, her eyes becoming alert once more as she struggled against her chains, the cave wall shuddering a bit from her renewed vigor, only to fall limp once more. Whisper was silent for a moment before she suddenly screamed in rage, thrusting the metal rod into Yemir torso again and again with vicious fury, the Gallade coughed out blood, her weariness matched only by the dull hatred she felt for Whisper.

“WHY? WHY DO YOU RESIST ME SO, YOU MISERABLE CUNT? I’M JUST TRYING TO HELP YOU… And you so rudely resist my gracious actions.” The Dusknoir hissed slowly, taking her sweet time with this next stab as the spiked stick slowly made its way into Yemir’s chest. The Gallade hissed, her eyes narrowed at Whisper. So long as the pain was there, she could remember. The younger sibling had no idea what Whisper was talking about, let alone why she returned after so long, torturing her like this.

“Yer insane... t-that’s why.” The Gallade spat, flecks of blood spraying across Whisper’s face. Yemir, for the time being, seemed to have that familiar defiant expression. One that made Whisper’s fetid blood boil. “You kidnap me… m-me… Torture m-me… And now you expect me t-to believe the insane b-babble dripping from yer mouth… I’ll never yield to you.” Yemir snorted, only to wince as Whisper grabbed the poker and snapped off the handle, leaving the tip embedded in her chest. The Dusknoir turned her back on Yemir, pinching her forehead in annoyance. “Oh Yemir, I’m insane. Truly, I am. But if one so blind as I can see what you cannot, then you are doomed. Maybe I’m just wasting my time. Maybe I should let Fenris consume you from the inside out!” Whisper laughed, giggling deliriously at the very thought of Yemir ending up like her.

“Then we’ll truly be related! Two undying corpses sharing the same grave! Oh, what fun, what joy!” Whisper proclaimed, raising her arms in the air as she leaned next to Yemir’s face and quietly whispered “Besides, at least with me, you know what’s up. Unlike Eudai. That unfeeling prick, he’ll be the death of you. And you wouldn’t even know it,” Whisper rasped as Yemir started to become riled up at the mere mockery of her beloved brother. A response that pleased Whisper.

“Don’t you dare talk about Eudai like that, you piece of shit!” Yemir yelled, her anger slowly raising, her awareness rising. “Sure, Eudai is… Weird. But he’s been more of a family to me than you ever had! After everything dad did for you… Spit on his name.” Yemir growled, glaring at Whisper, despite the dark haze fallen over her mind. If anything, the corruption only seemed to further exaggerate Whisper’s twisted features. Her decaying form wavering, voices tugging at Yemir’s mind, only to cease or diminish when her anger rose. Something to which Whisper made note of. Stroking her nonexistent chin, the ghoul wondered if she was simply going about this the wrong way. Most people she interrogated were often weak when it came to physical pain. A simple ply of a fingernail or two or some hot coals in a wound would have them singing. But Yemir? Her body was tough, too tough. The mind, however, was more malleable.

Good. She had some choice words for her sister anyway. What better way to vent your feelings than to let it all out on someone who is half awake and on the verge of being completely corrupted?

“And why shouldn’t I talk about Eudai like that?’ Whisper replied, her words jabbing at Yemir as a crooked smile spread across her disgusting face. “You may not want to believe it. But this ‘family’ is nothing more than stone cold killers out for number one. You just had the fortune… or misfortune, depends on who you’re asking, of developing a conscious.” Whisper sneered as Yemir’s eyes narrowed at her undead sibling.

“So desperate to seek a sense of family, of kinsmanship with the one individual who has as much emotional attachment as a toaster or blender. I’d laugh if it weren’t so pathetic!” Whisper mocked, only to reel her head back as Yemir nearly bit her head off, the Gallade being whipped ever faster into a frenzy. Seems like those magic runes the ghoul had used were starting to lose their effect on the giant as well. But the fiend was only starting. She wanted to see how mad Yemir could get.

“Your loved ones will abandon you.” Boomed the voice in Yemir’s head, ever louder and bolder, adding fuel to the fire.

“Oh come now, Yemir. I know you love him, misplaced as your affection may be. But, it’ll only be a matter of time before he tears you apart. Who knew hats were such devious beings?~” Whisper chuckled, only to be cut off as she heard the wall Yemir was attached to starting to crack under the immensity of her growing might. The Gallade’s eyes glowing with such intense fury. It even made the ghoul hesitate, if but for a moment. But she had to keep pushing the subject.

“Tell me, Yemir. How did you figure this would all end? You fight off the big bad Cadavers and live happily ever after with your whore of a husband, that snot nosed brat you call a daughter and our little brother?” Whisper suddenly cleared her voice before putting on her warped impression of Yemir. “‘Good ol’ Eudai. Quiet, peaceful Eudai. He’s not a bitch like Whisper, she never does anything for the family. Aside from being insane!’” Whisper laughed, her horrid voice piercing Yemir’s mind like a needle as the voice inside the Gallade’s head responded in kind.

“Your fear blinds you to the truth.” The voice proclaimed, taunting Yemir as it felt like her head was about to explode. Steam started seeping from her various wounds. Her mouth pulled back to expose her teeth, ready to tear Whisper in two. Paying no mind to the skin on her back slowly tearing off, the chains cracking. The titan’s patience was coming to an end. There were no words no, just pure anguish and anger, shooting through every molecule of her body. She could feel some kind of heat slowly surging from her very core. A familiar anger, from long ago. Yet… It felt different. So immense, so feral, it frightened Yemir as she tried to reel herself back.

Whisper frowned at her sister’s attempts to regain control. No, this wouldn’t do at all. But what else could she do? Panic began to rush through Whisper’s mind, uncertainty starting to set in as she eyed every conceivable part of Yemir.

That is… Until she laid her eyes on it.

The ‘clothes’ Yemir had been wearing, heirlooms of Gregnas, their father, the last reminder before his untimely demise. Yemir had been carrying them around ever since that fateful day. Her commitment to him, even in the afterlife, beyond compare. For most people in this situation, they might hesitate if they were connected to the family in such a way. Whisper was, no doubt. However. There is no limit to her depravity. With one swift swipe of her mangled claws, she absconded with the Reaper Cloth on Yemir’s left shoulder. The reaction on Yemir’s eyes were immediate as she went from restrained to utter desperation. Before a single word could be croaked from the titan’s mouth, Whisper let the cloth on fire, the flames illuminating her decaying face. Yemir could only watch in horror as the burning cloth slowly drifted from the elder sister’s hand to the floor. Then, ash. The charred particles started to scatter amongst the floor, Yemir’s eyes, wide, suddenly became hidden by her scraggly hair as her head lowered. Hair obscuring her expression as she drooped slightly. All was silent, too silent. The stillness unsettled Whisper as she slowly floated up to Yemir, prodding her silently with a bony finger.

“Yemir? Earth to Yemir, are you there?” The ghoul inquired. No response as Yemir just hung there limply like a piece of meat. The Dusknoir frowned, worried if she went too far. “Dammit it all to hell, I broke her! What am I going to do now if she’s dead in the head?!” Whisper growled, smacking Yemir across the face, but to no effect. The Dusknoir huffed a bit, lowering herself to get a better look at Yemir. Lifting the Gallade’s head up, Whisper made note of the dead, sullen expression on Yemir’s face. As if she was frozen in time. That is, until the air around Whisper started to heat up, drastically. Whisper hissed, feeling her rancid skin boil as she tried to pull away, but to no avail as Yemir suddenly grabbed hold of her arm. Her expression changing from frozen horror to intense fury. Her eyes alight with fire, literally. Having Whisper in her grasp, Yemir bellowed with such intensity, the cave shaking from the mere might of her voice as she broke free from her bindings. Caring little for the flesh being ripped off her back, exposing the muscle and even the spine underneath it as the Gallade, with Sister in tow, threw her wicked sister with all her might through the cave ceiling.

In one go, Whisper went flying through the cavern, having little time to react, let alone go intangible, flying through the sky like a rotten torpedo before landing unceremoniously into the snowy land underneath, face first. Whisper let out a muffled groan as she slowly shook her head, a bit disoriented from the force Yemir had just displayed. “Bleh, that’s a great start… Now if only the world would stop spinning.” Whisper moaned in discomfort, only to snap out of it as she witnessed something blue and shiny suddenly streak through the sky. The Dusknoir squinted as this object suddenly came flying at her. A literal ball of blue fire with teeth and claws attached to it, roaring for Whisper’s blood as it slammed into the ground, causing the ground to shake violently, as if it were alive.

Whisper couldn’t believe what she was seeing. For the brief time since Yemir’s sudden outburst, the Gallade was already twice her original size. Easily towering over the nearby trees as flames started to erupt from her, melting the nearby frost into slush. Yemir’s eyes narrowed in on the ghost, stomping towards Whisper with an unflinching glare. Closer, ever closer. Only to suddenly halt for a brief second as the same voice that spoke inside her mind suddenly reeled her in.

“You cannot have her, she is mine!” The voice yelled, exerting its influence over Yemir as she felt her body stall. Staring at her body, Yemir silently made note of how her blackened veins started to throb and pulse, the taint pumping through her body thrashing against the flames thrumming deep inside her.

“And soon, you shall belong to me as well.” The voice taunted, though it sounded scared as well. Fighting against the giant. Yemir would not allow this. She was done, with everything. Her eyes widened as the intensity of flames grew immensely. Yemir let out an ear splitting screech, the trees nearby splintering into pieces, the wind around her being whipped into a frenzy. Whisper could only watch in wonder as the blackened veins started to recede inside Yemir’s body. Being forced into one spot in her chest. This blackened lump moved and pulsed, undulating underneath Yemir’s flesh with vile intent. Glaring at it with disgust, Yemir held up a hand, before suddenly thrusting her hand into her chest, piercing her flesh as she felt the mass writhing underneath her grasp. With a mighty yank, the ghostly Gallade pulled out what looked like a deformed Giratina, screaming and writhing, coated in her blood and flesh. The screaming grew loud, unbearably so, until, with one final cry, Yemir snapped the creature’s head, the crack utterly deafening as the titan tossed its corpse into the ground, burning to cinders with her ghastly blue flames.

Yemir, despite having a gaping hole in her chest, paid no attention to where this blemish landed. Her attention was already on Whisper, who stared at the elder sister with an intense gaze while the ghoul had an uncertain look on her face. “Uhhh… Parlay?”

#plot #yemir #whisper

6 notes · View notes

sable-longclaw-blog · 7 years ago

Text

To Those I Have Loved: Finale

[[NSFW for language. This is the finale. This is it kids. Of the series anyhow. I hope you have enjoyed it! Thank you @macelongclaw for writing this stuff with me. Your stories added to mine were just.. AMAZING. Still though, stay tuned. There is a part 2 to the finale to come around Sunday or Monday!]]

youtube

I was born in blood, bathed in the life of crimson and washed in sanguine before I could even take my first breath. That was what I was promised, and I spent my life spilling it upon cold steel and stone floors, purging the world of those more wicked than I. After all.. it takes a monster to kill another one. One way or the other, I always figured it was the way that I would also die. No stone did I leave unturned in my work, not a trace left behind. I excelled in the art of death and wore its burdens like a badge of honor, and donned the mask of a killer proudly as one would wear the crest of their house. Such was my doctrine and what I followed. I never had faith in the Light, or any Gods that rest above me in a world I can't see. My faith rested within myself, to always pull through the worst of situations and keep myself level when others would falter and crumble. I took whole and unabashed pride in the way I made each cut, surgical and precise. They were many, but they never suffered and I always took down their names, so that their lives, no matter how badly lived, would not be taken without some sort of remembrance. I think that is the only humanity I had left in me, to make sure those candles weren't snuffed out and left to collect dust on a forgotten shelf in a broken down vestige.

In this small life I have learned that I am not a monster, not entirely. I have learned love and I have felt the wrenching cuts that made whole valleys in my heart and left a wasteland of broken dreams and promises in their wake. The dead trees and dried up rivers that rest there make up the memories and tears I have lost to never gain again. But most of all it has left me warm like the sun upon the face of a child in a field of flowers. It left me being something better than I was the day before, shaping me and molding me into this unrecognizable face that held true life within the golden hue of seeing suns. I found family and what it all meant. Loyalty, too. And I found him. Mace. There were not parts of me that he didn't touch, even the ones I kept locked away and promised never to let out of their cages made from years of abuse, neglect, their locks wrought from self hatred. I have betrayed those I swore I never would, my fealty shaken at the hands of greed and misplaced fatherly duty. In his grave he lay now, he who sired this golden eyed girl he lay in shreds upon fields of endless grain. He lay in his grave at my hands, soaked in the blood of his words and mind never to break his baby girl he left behind to cheat, lie, and steal.

To those I have wronged, I can never wash my hands enough of the blood I pulled from your bones and the life of you that I destroyed. To your families, there will never be enough shame in this world to show my regret for what I have taken from you. But know this. I had to. My life was always more important than yours and did I not, know that silently it was you that threatened me in the shadows though not by your own mouth. And know that I am saved because of you and through you I found what this life meant. Without your blood on my hands and the battles I held in my head as I held you down, I would have never wanted something more. For that I am forever in debted to you.

No longer am I bound by honor and duty to serve the shadows that enveloped me and held me tightly like a sinful lover. No longer am I bound to a life of lies and deciet ten miles wider than the sun. But most importantly I am no longer bound to myself. I no longer have to suffer to the blade I held at my own throat and the knives I jabbed in my own back with every single one I jabbed into yours. Into all of you. Mace and the rest of the Ludlow crew. No longer am I bound to hide from you for now you will know who I am, and what I stood for. But know that after I met you, all I did was for you. Lady Ludlow I lived to serve you and every breath I took and action I made was done in effort to keep right by you and loyal to your kind heart, kindness that was so ill deserved by me. Know now that as I stare at this light at the end of my tunnel that I am free and these chains hold me no longer. I only hope you find it in your hearts to forgive how I have so wholly wronged you all. Know that my freedom came at the price of your grief. Mace, I have loved you for what has felt like ages, and now that what I was is at its end... please forgive me and please love me still. And when you sing the epitaph of that woman who died that loved you so much, do not sing in misery and wet not your face with the tears, for you have not lost me, only she who could no longer live as she did.

I thought all this time I would die bloody and reckless, but instead the death was a sweet release, peace found within its merciful grip.

Two Weeks after Argus

A whole ocean roared before her, bare feet resting upon the docks of Booty Bay allowing the gentle salt spray breeze to brush and caress against her darkened skin. Sable just smiled, the most genuine smile she could ever smile, completely alone for the moment. Still, a part of her mourned for what she left behind on Argus. Who she was, and what made her up died that day. She mourned because at the moment Mace was left to believe she was dead and buried six feet under within the Stormwind Cemetary. She was still recovering from her wounds, but she was strong, and had made sure she’d be well enough for travel in a day or two’s time.

"Soon, baby...." was all she whispered before turning and heading to the room rented under the name of the man she had come to know as Timwei Alecksyn... Agent Seven. A hand to her arm stopped her though, causing her to turn to face the man she now called brother and probably her best friend at the moment. His dark brown eyes met her own, and he simply nodded his head, his expression grim but solid.

"It is done, little shadow. They mourn your death fully, and -the others- believe you dead. Though I have left special instructions with your employer in a letta. She is the only one who know you live. I believe you when you say she knows how to keep her mouth shut." he chuckled out softly, patting her arm before looking over his shoulder at the setting sun. "Soon, when it all blows ova, you can go home. The Uncrowned will have forgotten you and your debt to them is paid in their minds in your blood. Your freedom is just upon the horizon, Sable. And if they do catch wind that you live, they will not make a mess of your blood. It will not be worth it to them after some time has passed. They do not work as you were lead to believe under your fatha." He turned back to her then and offered her a warm smile. "I must leave you now, for a time. I fear my wife is threatenin' to have my head if I do not come home and mind the children for a bit. My absence was not welcome in the home, though, like your Mace.. she knew it must be done. Until I see you next, little one."

She couldn't help but smile at him and nod her head. "Thank you, Timwei.. I owe you for this. Any fuckin' time you need me for -whatever-, you let me know. Ain't never had a fuckin' friend like you, don't know if I ever wil l have another one. And don't fuckin' worry.. I'm good at layin' low. The beaches will do me good to get my head cleared. I'm not sure if I'm ready to face him yet anyhow.. He's going to fuckin' hate me.. but what else is new." She laughed softly after her words were done, shaking her head. "Was a bad thing we had to do... but.. for the right reasons." she huffed out, looking back up at Timwei, keeping her smile on her lips.

She had no idea that Tim was going to see her husband, and no idea what was coming the following day.

(( @macelongclaw @elizebella @lumenwolf @longclawofgilneas @ludlowvineyards @aldreusreinhold @sarahskyfall @jungnaysoftmaw @araethius @guardian-swiftspirit @pyroreaper-blog @the-little-chef -- All of you Ludlows for mentions! ))

#Finale #The end of Her #To those I have Loved #Sad Savage Sable #RP #WraRP #Wyrmrest Accord #Timwei

24 notes · View notes

hoopslab · 7 years ago

Text

Game of Thrones S7 Ep1: Winter has been a long time coming

SPOILERS FOR GAME OF THRONES ON HBO, UP THROUGH EPISODE 1 OF SEASON 7

Way back in 1997, I started reading this book called A Game of Thrones, the first in a promised series called A Song of Ice and Fire. It was an outstanding book, taking many of the standard concepts found in sci fi/fantasy novels and turning them on their heads. The book had this crazy de-centralized cast with maybe 10 point of view characters, many of them children, that told the story from several different angles at once. There was no clear-cut protagonist, and the closest thing we were given to a central “hero” got killed before the first book ended.

While there was a lot of political intrigue among the adult characters, who all were playing the Game of Thrones on some level, I found myself most interested in the young characters. The 7-year old Bran, who got thrown out of a window, was paralyzed, but seemed to be developing a third eye. The 9-year old Arya, who was already fiery and took no stuff from anyone, beating up the whiny Prince Joffrey to get one of the first out-loud cheers of the story. The 14-year old Jon Snow, who seemed to get a raw deal from day 1 with a “step mom” who hated him and a life-long birth as a celibate monk on The Wall before he was old enough to have to make that decision. And of course, the 13-year old Dany, who was abused and exploited by a sadistic and desperately weak older brother and ended the story by reintroducing the music of dragons to the world.

I’ve waited literally 20 years to find out what those young characters would do when they grew up. And on Sunday, I finally started to get answers to some of those questions.

Let’s talk about the first episode of season 7 of Game of Thrones, on HBO, which sets the stage for the final stretch of a story marathon that has already extended for more than half of my life.

Dany’s return to Westeros

I’m starting with the end of the episode, because it’s the stone whose ripples affect the most other main characters. Daenerys Targeryan ended Season 6 on a boat, traveling with an armada of ships that were bringing her Doethraki hoard, her Unsullied warriors, and the rest of her army towards Westeros with her three dragons flying overhead. At the end of the first episode of Season 7, she finally arrived. She landed at Dragon Stone, at a castle that had seemingly been abandoned after Stannis Baratheon took his show on the road in Season 2.

Dany’s return, in Episode 1, focused on the emotional aspect of the homecoming. She had been born at Dragonstone, but other than that had never set foot on the continent that she believes herself destined to rule since being exiled as a baby. She’s had a crazy, turbulent life on the run with her big brother that ultimately saw her sold as a “wife” into a situation that was a short step above slavery, and ultimately growing into a warrior-queen and conqueror of nations on other continents. Thus, on the show, they focused on how mega of a deal it was for her to finally be back on the land of her birth...from her feeling the sand with her hands, to her slow walking tour of her new home base. Her line to Tyrion, “Shall we begin?” was the last line of the episode, and really whets the whistle for what should be an epic storyline in this penultimate season of the show.

The Hound sees the White Walkers coming

This whole storyline is a departure from what we’ve seen in the books, to date. The last published book in the series, A Dance with Dragons, did not have the Hound traveling with the Brotherhood without Banners. In fact, in the book series, it hasn’t even been confirmed yet that the Hound is still alive. And Beric Dondarion had long-ago passed his...gift...on to a certain Stone-hearted character that was not resurrected on the show. So, before late last season, I wasn’t looking for the Hound and the Brotherhood to be marching together up North.

However, Episode 1 gave the Hound a feature section and foreshadowed a big role for him moving forward. First, they had the crew re-visit the exact cottage where the Hound and Arya had visited and the Hound had stolen the life savings of a man and little girl. Fast-forward to the present, and the man and little girl are dead (seemingly by the man’s hand) after they apparently ran out of food. The Hound is clearly responsible for their misery...and for one of the first times, he actually seems to feel and acknowledge that guilt. His digging graves for them, because that’s all that he can do at this point, shows clearly that he has grown as a character from a henchman without feelings (that could strike down Micah with no remorse in Season 1) into a more nuanced warrior at this stage of the game.

But the most important revelation was that the Hound can now see visions in the fire (that he’d even get close enough to fire to look is HUGE for him), and that those visions were of the White Walkers. The Westeros universe is full of legends, and the priests of the Lord of Light have perpetuated some of those legends. The fact that the priest Thoros has been able to resurrect Beric from death so many times would suggest that Beric’s life is somehow important to the Lord of Light in his goals...and one of his biggest assumed goals is to counter the White Walkers. But perhaps, it’s not Beric (or the non-existent Stone Heart) that are the important ones...perhaps Beric was kept alive specifically to bring the Hound to where he needs to be, so that HE can become one of the leaders against the White Walkers? I look forward to finding out.

The Lions and the Krakens

Cersei ended last season with an absolute G move, wiping the priests of the Seven and the Tyrells completely off the map. Of course, in her gloating glee, she also abandoned her son who took that opportunity to commit suicide. This left Cersei as the queen, with absolutely nothing to humanize her, which caused even Jaime to look on in horror.

This season opens with Cersei one-step away from cackling laughter on the “evil overlord” scale, with Jaime seemingly terrified as he tries to figure out a way to move forward when the world hates them and his partner is channeling her inner Mad King (er... Mad Queen). Cersei’s power move is to partner up with Euron, the other evil monarch on the board, who happens to own a sea armada and has a history as a pirate.

While the partnership pairs the two most odious families/live characters on the board, it was also necessary because...Jaime was right. Cersei and crew were sitting ducks without allies, but with the GreyJoy armada they can at least make it interesting. They still seemingly have no counter to the dragons, but it would seem that they are set up to cause their own brand of mischief in the short term.

What can Bran do at Castle Black?

Bran Stark was my favorite character in the books, and though some of his development/training has been less exciting on-screen than I’d have hoped, I have still been anticipating his role as an adult. In Episode 1, he finally makes it back south of the wall with his entry to Castle Black. Like Dany’s return, this is another potentially big stone thrown into the pond...but unlike Dany, no one else is aware that Bran even exists.

On the political front, there’s the very real question of what happens in the North, where Jon Snow has been declared King, when it is learned that a true-born son of Ned Stark is still alive? But more importantly, to me, is what Bran may be able to accomplish as the Three-eyed Raven? Will he be able to communicate through the trees to other characters? Is he just going to walk the past to learn more important stuff? Will he tell Jon that he’s the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna? Will he warg into something powerful and fight? Jon and Dany are, on paper, the most important protagonist-like characters in the story. But Bran is a wild card, and after 20 years I’m really looking forward to seeing how his storyline plays out.

Sam and Sir Friend Zone at the Citadel

Sam Tarley got some on-screen time in Episode 1. His initial montage of duties was...gross. No other way to say that, really, but I guess the show did a good job of conveying that he has scut duties that are repetitive and seemingly endless, and that have kept him from doing any major learning. His stealing of the key to the forbidden section, and subsequent learnings on Dragon Glass, could be important in moving the narrative along. But we (meaning the viewers) already knew that Dragon Glass was a thing, so I’m curious what else he’ll learn of value that makes his time at the Citadel worthwhile.

Also, the 1-second cameo of (presumably) Jorah Mormont’s scaled hand in the dungeon/hospital should have future significance, as well.

Winter came for the Freys

The cold-start of the show, with Arya masquerading as Walder Frey and essentially destroying the Frey House was...fun. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, because Arya is still a young girl that has now effectively become a trained serial killer...and I should probably worry for what this bodes for her moving forward. But...yeah, I can’t lie, I’ve enjoyed watching her reap her revenge on the odious Frey family for the Red Wedding.

Like Bran, Arya is another wild card that could have a major effect on things moving forward, that no one else even realizes is alive. While Dany is the obvious power on the board, the four Stark kids have a lot of juice themselves...it’s just dispersed, and currently unharnessed. Will the 4 remaining Starks ever become aware of each other and start to work together? If so, they’d be incredibly powerful. But, that’s a pretty big what-if.

Jon, Sansa & Littlefinger...& Dany?

One of the most big assumptions for ASoIaF readers on the message boards, back in the day, was that Jon Snow and Dany Targeryan were on a crash-course to become the big power couple of the series. Jon was “Ice”, Dany was “Fire”...and together, they could run things. And, this could still happen.

But, last season, when Sansa and Jon reunited at the Wall there was this odd sense that they were acting less like brother-and-sister and more like lord-and-lady. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but their on-screen chemistry sparked enough of a buzz that the actors that play the parts have been asked about it and online shippers have started putting them together.

Whether there is any future to the shipping or not, it’s clear that the showrunners are playing up the conflict between Jon an Sansa as they try to figure out how to run the North. Sansa questions Jon’s every decision, but not in a constructive way...more in an undercutting way, the way that she called him out for his decision on handling the Umber and Karstark families in the middle of a meeting. It seems as though she could have conveyed her opinion to him 1-on-1, and they could have hashed that out before they got in front of the people. On the other hand, the argument can be made that Jon hasn’t listened to her enough, and that she’s speaking the kind of sense that could have saved Ned and Rob...if they hadn’t been so set in their ways. Is Jon going down the same path to the same end?

Add in that Littlefinger stays in Sansa’s ear, constantly telling her that she should rule (instead of Jon) and empowering her with his army and options...and there’s definite potential for Sansa to go her own direction. And in the previews for Episode 2, there’s certainly a hint that Jon may be considering a meeting with Dany. At the least, there is a Jon-Sansa-Littlefinger ruling triangle and very potentially a love-triangle as well...and Dany’s introduction to that volatile brew could have very real political, and/or romantic, consequences.

Takeaway

This was just episode 1. I’m really looking forward to watching how this plays out over the next two months, which will ultimately set the stage for the End Game in Season 8. Winter has been a LONG time coming...20+ years for me...and now that it’s here, I’m going to love watching it burn!

#misc #Game of Thrones #HBO #GOT #John Snow #Dany #Bran #Stark #Lannister #Targeryan

1 note · View note

hepaidattention · 8 years ago

Text

Her

Second part to, “Life Saver”. First part can be read here.

Daisy can’t snap Fitz out of his Framework personality, but she knows someone who can. Jemma Simmons.

Daisy looked around, cautiously following behind as she watched her every exit. What the heck did he want? She almost was tempted to make a run for it and get out of dodge – but Fitz could easily just report her, and then she’d have to figure out how to get out of Hydra facilities without anyone on her side.

Plus, she wouldn’t deny she was just the tiniest bit intrigued. Why did The Doctor want to hack Hydra…? Did he not have all access as it was?

They reached his lab and he opened the door, gesturing her to go in. He might be evil but he still had manners. She walked in with hesitance, unsure if she was about to receive a get out of jail free card or a death certificate.

Fitz walked to his desk and cleared his throat. “The computers over here,” he said with a smug expression on his face. Smug Fitz was not her ideal. “I assume you know what a computer looks like.”

Daisy glared and took a seat beside him. “What do you need me to do?”

Fitz rolled his chair back some, giving her space. “I have all access to everything in Hydra. Everything but the Directors.”

Daisy looked at him, watching his face. He was up to something – but not this Fitz, not The Doctor. No, the Fitz that Daisy knew – he was in there – and he was up to something.

“I need you to hack into the Directors computer.”

“Okay… and find what?”

Fitz eyed her. “I tell you what you need to know, Skye.”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “It might be easier to hack into one specific part of what you’re looking for. Especially if it’s attached to another network. Might give me an in?”

Fitz let out a frustrated breath. “The drones, and whatever footage that’s been sent to her through them.”

That threw Daisy off. Did he just say the director was a her? Never mind that, Daisy. Not what’s important right now.

She nodded and worked her magic. It didn’t take long, thankfully. Honestly it should have been ten times harder than it was – but Daisy supposed the Framework wasn’t designed to keep Daisy Johnson out of the system. She got into the Framework in the first place, didn’t she?

“Okay, what are we looking for exactly?” Daisy started to scroll through the archive of footage sent to this mysterious director. It was ridiculous how much these drones caught on camera. Fitz then proceeded to push his way onto the computer, moving Daisy out of his way. He gave it one glance and seemed to be pleased.

“Great, thanks, Skye.” In a blink of an eye a gun was raised to Daisy’s temple. Daisy was frozen, she couldn’t breathe. Fitz turned his head, giving her a cold, ruthless expression. “You were a great help. However, it seems your assistance is no longer needed.”

“Fitz,” Daisy said in such a soft whisper she was surprised she could hear herself. “Fitz, please.” She shook her head, eyeing the barrel of the pistol. “You don’t have to do this, okay? This isn’t you.”

Fitz tweaked a brow, the gun remaining steady in his hands. The side of his mouth turned up into a smirk, a scoff releasing from his throat. “That’s a new one. Most people just tell me I could be more to talk me out of blowing their brains out. But that I already am more … that’s a new one. Much more effective.” Fitz cocked the weapon. “Not effecting enough, sadly.”

“Fitz, c’mon. I know you! The Fitz I know cried last time we watched a documentary on monkeys! You can’t kill me.”

He watched her, almost as if what she told him made sense to him. That gave Daisy hope. He was hesitating, if anything.

“The only thing you have ever shot was a guy who’d been dead for a solid two weeks at least, and Jemma said you still felt guilty for months after.”

That made Fitz falter. His expression changed from cold-stone killer to a glimpse of the real Fitz slipping through. Then it dawned on her – she said Jemma. Duh, Daisy! Think!

“Think about what Jemma would say, Fitz. You know, deep down, if you killed me? Jemma might never forgive you. What’s more – you would never forgive yourself.”

The gun didn’t move from its spot – but she could have sworn the Fitz she knew blinked at her for a split second. “Jemma?” he finally asked.

Daisy felt her entire body relax some. “Yes, Fitz. Jemma’s here. She came to save you. We both did.”

The barrel of the gun lowered, Fitz now looking unsteady. “Simmons?”

He remembered. Daisy grinned. “Yes! Jemma Simmons.”

“Biochemist.” He muttered out. His brow was furrowed, pressing his hand against his head.

Daisy laid a hand on his shoulder. “Your girlfriend, Jemma Anne Simmons, has dug her way out of the literal grave to come save your butt. She-”

“Stop, stop,” Fitz begged, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is just in my head.”

She scrunched her brows. “Well, yes, actually. But not in the way you mean.”

“You’re not real.”

“No, wrong. This desk isn’t real. Me? I am very real.”

“You can’t be. You said her name.” Fitz let out a raspy breath. “I’ve only ever seen her in my dreams.”

He dreamed about her. Daisy wouldn’t deny that the little shipper inside her was screaming over that – but she had to move on.

“Who are you?” Fitz finally looked back up at her. She could see him gripping a tighter hold on his gun again.

“You know who I am, Fitz.” Daisy watched the gun as she said her words, but he never raised it up again. “I’m Daisy Johnson.” She lifted her eyes to see his face – there was nothing. No recognition of the sort.

“What’d you do with Skye?”

Daisy wasn’t sure what emotions he was feeling anymore. His face looked partly hurt, and partly confused. He looked like he was about to lose his marbles – but maybe that was a good sign. Before Coulson cracked he was near losing his head, too.

She decided she needed to go all out. Only, not here. “I am Skye. Daisy’s my real name.” She took in a deep breath and scooted her chair where she could look him in the eyes. Tears filled his eyelids. “You want to remember, don’t you?”

He looked at her with a scowl this time. “Remember what?”

“Her. Remember the woman from your dreams.” Daisy really hoped this would work. All she knew was the only way to bring the Fitz they knew back, was with Jemma. And more than just her name. “I know where she is. I can bring you to her.”

Fitz laid the gun on the desk, watching her intently. “Jemma Simmons is a mere fragment of my imagination. I don’t know how you know about her, but-”

“Watch the footage.” Daisy cut him off, gesturing towards the computer. “The footage of the British resistance woman. It’s Jemma. What’s more, you know it’s Jemma, Fitz. That’s why you had me hack in. You couldn’t care less about resistance, but this girl – you care.”

Fitz made little argument. He eyed her before turning himself to the computer and clicked on whatever the right video was. It flashed in front of him, Jemma Simmons ducking into a car. She looked like the walking dead. The video showed nothing of her identity, just her face, yet Fitz still whispered under his breath, “It’s her.”

“I know where she is, Fitz.” Daisy laid an arm the desk and angled herself so she could see his face. He looked at her, Daisy wanted to cry at how confused and hurt he looked. “Let me bring you to her.”

Fitz’s eyes scanned Daisy’s face, searching her eyes for some kind of inclination that she was lying. She was completely honest though, and Fitz eventually concluded the same results. His voice broke some as he said, “Okay.”

Fitz gave them both cloaking devices, that way they were able to walk out of Hydra without a single obstacle. They drove in silence, Fitz doing nothing but watching outside the window, and occasionally watching the mirrors. He was paranoid about something but she had no idea what. Or, she supposed she should assume who.

It didn’t matter though. Daisy knew if anyone could break through the Frameworks walls for Fitz, it could be Jemma. She was their only chance of brining real Fitz back to the surface.

They arrived. They walked in, Fitz following Daisy as she led the way. Daisy realized as they walked in that she was taking a big leap of faith – because if Fitz didn’t remember, she had just showed a head of Hydra the resistance’s main hide out.

“Jemma,” Daisy voiced as they walked into the main room of previous SHEILD headquarters. It was just like it was in reality, only it’s whole lot less dusty back home.

Jemma was going over something with Mace when she looked up, seeing the two standing in the door way, motionless. The moment her eyes landed on Fitz tears started to swell up in her eyes. “Fitz,” she let out through a sigh. Jemma ran up to them and immediately enveloped Fitz into a hug before any other words were spoken. Daisy watched them – seeing Fitz as he slowly but surely wrapped his arms around her, holding her just as tight as she was holding him. Daisy then decided to leave the two love birds alone, quietly leaving the room, dragging Mace along with her.

“God, I thought I lost you.” Jemma whispered over his shoulder.

It was her. Fitz was terrified over what was happening to him right now. He was currently holding the woman in his dreams in his arms. Before he knew it, she was pecking kisses all over his face, and then stopped when her forehead met his. Fitz wouldn’t deny there was something … familiar about all of it. She locked eyes with him, clearly waiting for some sort of reply. Fitz should be pulling away right now, telling her he has no clue who she was. He should kill every last one of these SHIELD agents. Yet, there was something in him that was telling him this was right. This was normal. That this was him.

She waited patiently, saying nothing. Her soft, caramel eyes pierced his soul as she stared into his. He felt so many emotions, emotions he didn’t even know he had, just by looking at her. Then it hit him. How could he have been so stupid? This Jemma was resistance – she was an Inhuman.

Fitz suddenly jerked back, ripping himself from her touch. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

The wounded look she gave him could have crippled him right on the spot. The tears in her eyes were no longer from joy as she said, “Fitz, it’s me. Jemma.”

This hold she had on him – it had to be Inhuman abilities. There was no way he actually knew this woman. This was all the resistance plot to lure him in, manipulate him. Yet, he still let her grab his hand, pulling him closer to her again. “How’d you do it?” he asked, his voice breaking. “Get in my head?”

Jemma shook her head with such passion as she swallowed down a sob. “The only one who’s gotten in your head is AIDA. We’re inside the Framework, Fitz. Your invention. You created this world for good, and Radcliffe and AIDA have mutilated it into pure evil. They’re your enemy. Not me.” She placed a hand gently on his cheek, brushing his tears with her thumb. “Please. You have to remember me.”

There was a war taking place inside Fitz. The only thing keeping him from pulling out a gun and shooting down every last one of them was her. The way she looked at him, it was so … recognizable. Like she’d stood in front of him before, tears running down her cheeks, only then, her hair was untamed, her complexion was pale from lack of sun, her sobs for someone else … a small smile formed on her cheeks as he assured her he’d save him… Fitz pressed a hand to his temple, shaking his head as he pulled away. “No, no you’re putting memories in my head.” His eyes clamped shut, his mouth suddenly unable to forms words properly. “You- you… This isn’t – that’s not real.”

Jemma gripped his hand even tighter, not letting him leave her grasp. “Fitz. It is real. Remember back,” she placed her free hand on his chest. “Remember when we first met? You were so quiet, and pasty, and handsome. God, I remember being so nervous. I had wanted to talk to you for months, but out of any person I had ever met,” she let out a small laugh, “I thought you might be smarter than me, and well, I suppose I was a bit intimidated.” Fitz’s eyes opened, sparking with recognition. Jemma grinned up at him, letting go of his hand to lay it on his cheek once again. “There he is.”

He took in a sharp breath. “This can’t be real.”

Jemma wasn’t giving up. “Do you remember what we promised each other? We promised each other we would never let anything tear us apart again, and I’m here to make sure nothing breaks that promise. Fitz, I can’t do this without you. I need you to wake up – to remember. I need you to come back to me.” Fitz met her eyes – a distant dream buried in his subconscious rising from its depths, and reliving itself right before his eyes. “Please, come back to me.”

Fitz brushed her hair behind her ear, her returning a broken smile in return. The words ’Come back to me’ sat on his heart and mind as he gazed at her – he will always come back to her. Always. He wanted to kiss her, right then, kiss her and let her know he would always be back for her. He couldn’t though – not now. But god, did he want to.

As if he was looking at her for the first time in weeks, Fitz searched her eyes before cupping her face with his hands and crushing his lips to hers. He could feel her smile against his lips before sweetly kissing him back, which followed with her tightly wrapping her arms around his neck. Memories flooded Fitz’s mind, memories of Jemma, of SHEILD. Everything he ever knew suddenly came to him like a lightning bolt. Every twisted memory AIDA had forged him filled in each gap with the image of Jemma Simmons, the light of his life becoming clear. Fitz moved his hands from her face to instead enfold around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Close enough that maybe, just maybe, he’d never have to let her go again.

But sadly, they had to part. Jemma pulled away, resting her forehead to his once again. She gave him a silly grin, looking in his eyes with such delight. “Welcome back,” she whispered to him.

Fitz returned the smile, reaching for her hands to fold into his. “I’m so sorry, Jemma. I can’t believe I… I did awful things, I…”

“No, Fitz,” she brought her head back to fully see his face. “Every single thing you’ve done here was never once you, do you understand me? This,” she let out a sigh of relief. “This is you.”

Fitz chuckled. “I was a real case, wasn’t I?”

Jemma bit her lip, trying not to laugh too hard. “Well, have you seen your hair?” She released a hand from Fitz’s grasp to run her fingers through his overly gelled hair. “What in god’s name were you thinking?”

Fitz just laughed. He grabbed her hand again, drawing them to his chest. He looked her straight in the eyes, his heart heavy as he said, “I love you, Jemma.”

Jemma broke again, tears running down her eyes. This time however, it was simply from the stress of everything finally feeling like it had been lifted from her shoulders. No, they weren’t home, and no, they had no idea how to get there. But it didn’t matter – because now, now she had Fitz. Jemma embraced him, tightly enclosing her arms around his ribcage, her face buried in his shoulder. Fitz held her, soothing her as she cried. Finally, after a moment of tears, Jemma breathed out, “I love you, too, Fitz.” She let out a heavy breath, adjusting her head to fit under the crease of his neck. “Please, don’t ever leave me again.”

Fitz’s hold on her tightened. “I won’t.”

“Fitz, I … I don’t know how to get home.”

She felt him shrug under her. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jemma closed her eyes, a content smile resting on her face. “Together.”

#agents of sheild #hardly spoilers #aos fanfic #thefitzsimmonsnetwork #fanfic #my stories #the framework #fitzsimmons

103 notes · View notes