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lstories · 3 years ago

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Just another Jungle Expedition

Part: 1

I wanted to try a first person story beacuse I can't accurately describe what a person looks like. I want to keep doing more lore stories, it's fun to write and talk about.

(Safe, soft, unwilling, naga, vore)

Word Count: 4560

The rain was tapping on the leaves above everyone, you could see the water flowing down the trunks of the trees in thin streams. Another group of adventurers running around the rainforest that satellites couldn't analyze. You were warned about going into the forest, just like the last team, and the team before them but you couldn't care less about their warnings.

BANG

The undeniable sound of a gun being fired by one of the other teams in the forest, the birds were flying out from the trees all around your team. Everyone needed weapons for protection from wild animals and from whatever was taking out the previous teams. Some were a little trigger happy for anything that moved. You didn't like to carry around a gun if you knew you weren't going to be in danger, but a knife wasn't off the table. You were almost always right for what might happen to you and your team on an expedition. You couldn't say for the other two teams your employer hired but it's likely this would be your biggest discovery yet and your team would probably come out unharmed. The last few teams that went deep into the forest never came out, their GPS and radios just stopped. No teams have ever found the body's, bones, tech, or anything else from the team before them but it never stopped people from coming to find out why.

You and your team were a small group of for higher adventures in a time where everything needs to be known. Your team hasn't found much, it was more of quality over quantity but, what you have found is amazing. Old era weapons that changed history books and plants you could only describe as magical. Hell, your team even found an entire city in a mountain that was abandoned thousands of years ago but had modern day, well, everything. You would only go on the best, most dangerous adventures, and your team would follow wherever you went.

BANG

The other teams were starting to get on your nerves. You loved nature and animals which is why you wanted to become an adventurer, and the other teams were just shooting at every animal big enough to have a clear shot. They were only in it for the money and fame, they didn't care what they found and they didn't care how they got it. Maybe during the night the monster in the woods could come and make them "disappear" like the other teams. You knew your employer was using everyone as fodder to further their own goals but to what or why was unknown. It didn't really matter as you knew this would be big. It was getting late though, and all the teams needed some rest. They were only a few miles out from where most of the other teams went missing but it was still better to get some rest than to walk during the night in the forest. After a bit of searching, your team found part of a cave in a cliff. There was scratch marks all over it and the front of the roof of the cave was slanted upwards with smoke stains running along it. An older team had deffenetly been here before, so your team was deffenetly going in the right direction.

The cave was big enough for about two teams to comfortably sleep in but everything was finders keepers for now. Your team hid most of the trails they made, ripping up bushes and lightly planting them on the trails. The other two teams worked together and set up a small camp under some trees, pitching their tents together and making a large fire under an opening in the canopy. Your team pulled all the tents together, creating a wall of fabrics to use as a wind barrier and to trap the heat in the cave.

Your team started to fall asleep one by one, eventually all of them fell asleep but you were still wide awake. Something was off, you knew your team would survive and this would be your biggest find yet but, there was something dangerous that you couldn't put your finger on and it was bugging you. You snuck out of your camp making sure not to wake anyone, the fire was already dwindling to ashes so you didn't have to worry about that being a problem. You walked around the forest unsure of what you were looking for but eventually you stumbled upon the other teams camp.

You snuck up from the side of their camp but you felt like someone or something was watching you. Looking over the bushes you saw everyone from the other teams, none of them could be looking at you so what was. You glanced around the forest, you didn't see anything except a small shadowy movement in the trees. You thought it was just some birds looking at you. Eventually it started to subside and you began to focus on the other teams again. You picked up a medium sized rock and threw it to the other side of their camp, some of them pulled their guns and immediately fired at where the rock landed.

You stepped out of the bushes, arms crossed with a disappointed look on your face. "And what if that was an exotic animal"

A few of them turned to you with their guns pointed and two of them tried to fire, their guns clicked as they were out of ammo. You weren't scared of them, everything usually worked out in the end for you. Everyone waited for the other to move, you eventually made the first move, walking closer to the fire and sitting next to them. "So, what are you going to do with your pay if you survive" you say, stealing a marshmallow from one of the sticks next to you while most of them were still aiming their guns. You knew this was going to be a long trip so you had your team only pack compact food, luckily this team wanted to keep some sugar around like they were camping. Everyone stayed quiet, one by one they reluctantly put their guns away. "Well, does anyone want to talk first or should I share my opinions about you guys" you say, each of them started talking about their wants. Some would help their family's, some just want the money for whatever they feel like, and some didn't share what they wanted. Eventually you left back to your camp after exchanging stories of your adventures, you didn't like them anymore than when you first met them but you did get to know some of them better. Finally you got your mind off of whatever was bugging you but now there was something else. It felt like there was something falloing you, it didn't feel like when the other team was starting, but whatever was watching you from before was back. Your neck was on fire at this point, you were tempted to just sleep in the bushes and deal with whatever was following you but you finally found your camp. Walking inside you immediately fell onto the single blanket you called a bed. The burning sensation was finally dwindling from the back of your neck as you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up, your team had already taken down the makeshift wall and had already packed and were ready to leave. The sun was barely rising let alone showing threw the leaves and it felt like you hadn't gotten any sleep but it took you no time to pack up what you had laid out and start walking. You led your team to the other's camp, all of them were asleep but the huge fire you sat around was just a small campfire now, and that was being unwatched, the smoke from it had burned the leaves in the canopy. Everyone was asleep in their tents with nothing guarding them, you took one of your teammates guns and shot once at the fire, sparks flew as you guided your team to leave. You walked away from the other team's camp to your original destination, you could hear them questioning what that was while you walked away. You and your team were always efficient and always made the most of every moment. They sometimes questioned why you did what you did, even you questioned what you were doing from time to time but the results of what you did made it worth it. After a long time of walking your radios started to crackle and your GPS couldn't pick up where you were anymore eventually failing completely. Your team came into a clearing after a few hours of walking, the expanse was huge, bigger than any clearing the satellite's had seen, it was perfectly circular and the grass was too green and short to be any type of grass in this part of the world. After getting a closer look, it didn't even look like it was from your world. A large stone castle was in the middle of the clearing, it was perfectly kept and was deffenetly being lived in. There wasn't any human life anywhere neer this area so a castle wouldn't be out here. There was an assortment of trees surrounding the circular clearing, a few dozen trees you recognized from all over the world and thousands more you didn't. You were about to start heading towards the castle until you heard a roar from your side.

Your entire team looked to the right, a large wolf like creature had exited the forest near you. It didn't seem to notice your team or the explosion in the distance as you looked to the edges of the forest to see monsters and groups of people exiting from all parts of the forest. The creature sniffed at the air as your team slowly crept back into the forest but it was no use, it had already noticed you. Everyone ducked out of the way as the monster jumped out at you and your team. You ran back into the forest. You heard the monster roar as you slid under a fallen tree but it seemed to be cut off half way through its roar. You ran threw the forest for a bit, looking back to see if the monster was still chasing you or your team but there was nothing. You stoped and walked back to try and find your team, but the forest grew weirder, there was new types of trees and shrubbery and the land was flattening out more. You looked over to some trees, you could see the edge of the forest threw two trees but other trees just made the forest look like it had kept on going. You walked threw the two trees that showed the edge of the forest, a cold chill washed over you as you looked up to see it was dark and snowing. You were baffled, it took you no time to run out of the forest and it looked like the world had ended. You were already starting to shake from the cold and had no choice but walk back into the forest. You stepped over twigs and shrubbery, you had no idea where you ran from as your mind raced as to what was happening. How did the world get so cold and how did it take so little time to get to the outside of the forest. You went back and looked behind the trees, the forest did keep going.

You could feel the burning of someone looking at you again, looking back you still didn't see anyone. You could hear something quietly moving behind you and acted as if you couldn't. More edges of the forest, worlds with giant houses, large stone structures you couldn't tell the meaning of, or trees in the distance that seemed to move, none of which was near the forest you entered or let alone on your world. You kept walking as the rustling of leaves and snapping of branches got louder. It was starting to get dark, you didn't want to sleep with whatever was stalking you, so with no other choice you kept walking. Your eyes were getting heavy as the terrain only got weirder, a small bump in the dirt was almost a few inches tall at this point and the moss on the trees seemed inverted but normal somehow. You kept going but a thundering sound almost knocked you off your feet. You couldn't tell what it was or where it was coming from and it sounded like it was all around you. Your eyes darted around the forest looking for whatever it was as you heard the rustling of leaves again, hastily moving towards you now. You couldn't move in time to get out of the way as you were picked up and carried up a nearby tree. You were about to scream as a scaly hand was put over your mouth and another was holding your arms to your sides. You tried to flail enough to reach for your knife, almost grabbing it before being spun around. You didn't know what you were expecting to see but it wasn't a humanish snake thing. Its face had yellow scales up from its jawline to its ears, its torso was a mix of yellow and brown scales and its blue and yellow eyes were particularly covered by its blond hair. It looked human but it had scales over most if not all of its body.

You wanted to say something but its hand was still covering your mouth. It didn't look like it was looking at you, the thundering sound was starting to get louder as the scaly human looked like it was getting worried. You couldn't turn your head enough to see what was coming but at the bottom of the tree was a yellow and brown tail with a small repeating diamond pattern slowly climbing it. You followed the tail up the tree as it wrapped around the branch you were on expecting something to be ready to attack. But instead you saw the tail connect to the man holding you. You started to wriggle free and get away but he had a death grip on you. You looked back up to his eyes as the booming kept getting louder, he was now completely focused on you, looking over you from head to toe. He glanced over your shoulder one last time and, with an apologetic look on his face, shoved your head into his mouth. You couldn't move for a second, petrified with fear as you were surrounded by warmth and wetness. Your head was spun around to its side, you could see large fangs in the top of his mouth and a small forked tounge quickly licking at your cheek and neck. With one gulp you partially slid down his throat and your feet left the branch you were barely balancing on, you could feel his bones buckle and gravity shift as your head was forced past his collarbone. A reverberating hum echoed around you as he forced your shoulder's past his throat. You thrashed your legs, the booming got louder and the snake person grappled your legs together and quickly forced them down his throat. The muscles around you tensed as you were shoved down faster than they could drag you, it felt like you were falling for a second before it tightened even harder around your head before all the pressure vanished. Your scalp roughly hit the bottom of his stomach and your neck painfully fell behind.

You could feel your shoulders falloing in behind, your whole body lurched to try and catch itself on something as gravity shifted around. You felt like you were laying on your back and immediately tried to wriggle backwards up the snake person's throat once the movement stopped. The booming was only getting louder somehow and your chest started to feel crushed for a second before it fell into the stomach with you. You kept trying to writhe your legs but they were kept still by the thing currently eating you. Your stomach started to follow into his as you were forced to curl up. You tried to scream at him to let you go, the booming sound outside drowning out any sounds you tried to make. Your hips finally made it into the stomach with you for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. You forced yourself threw the pain of bending your joints the wrong way and dragged your arms up to cover your ears. You wanted to punch the walls of your new prison but the booming was too loud and you thought you were about to start bleading from your ears. You could feel your captors mouth close over your feet as he tried to swallow your legs, eventually giving up for a second and opening his mouth. A faint glimmer of hoped flashed for a second before he moved your feet and bit your toes with his molars. Luckaly he hadn't bitten down hard enough to cause any bleading, unluckily, you jerked forward and curled a bit more and slightly bent your knee's. That was all he needed as he swallowed your legs, you could feel his joints cracking and popping as his jaw realigned itself and his chest cracked itself back into place. You tried to push your legs back up but they got caught on his rib cage, he pushed back and shoved your legs deeper, each pair of bones your feet passed clicked back together until you were fully curled up in his stomach.

You tried to scream at the top of your lungs, you couldn't hear anything coming out of your mouth as the booming got louder. You felt a light touch feel along your back. A pair of hands ran across your wing bones, over your shoulders, over your head, and down your spine, a few fingers tracing over every vertebrae. It was almost a reassuring feeling until a small drop of liquid ran down your face, for a split second you forgot where you were and were getting comfortable. You snapped out of the almost trance like state, kicking at the walls and stretching out as much as you could without removing your hands from your ears. You tried your hardest to get him to spit you back up before remembering your knife. You moved your hand out of the way and slamming you head to your shoulder, you jostled around with one hand for your knife, you were suddenly greeted to a pain of pressure once you had your hand on the grip. The pressure tightening the stomach around you as you forced your hand back up to your chest as it slowly wrapped up your back and over your head. It was getting hard to breath and you couldn't grab your knife in time to cut your way out. The booming suddenly stopped as you realized the snake part of the person that ate you had wrapped around your body. Your heart was racing so fast you could hear it... wait, the beats in your chest weren't the same as the ones you heard. You felt your wrist and timed it to the one you were hearing. The heartbeat you heard was faster and deeper than yours and you realized it was the snakes heart beat. The heart beat wasn't the only thing you could hear, low gurgling and the quickening breath of the snake man echoed all around you. A small amount of saliva dripped onto your head and gravity shifted again.

You were back on your feet, at least as well as you could be on your feet while you were all balled up. You heard a sharp drawn out hiss as you were jostled around in his stomach for a bit. You could hear him take in another breath as he hissed again, this one was rising in pitch before you were jostled around more and heard a loud squelch. An incredibly loud and undescribeable noise echoed around you as you felt like you were about to go deaf. It stopped and the booming started up again. This time it only took seconds to disappear. After a few seconds of relative silence besides the gurgling of the stomach and the heartbeat, the pressure was released around you. You immediately took heavy breaths of the thick air around you, the heartbeat around you slowing down. Both your breaths became steady as you felt the tail around you slowly uncoil around you as you felt the hands return to your back. It felt reassuring when he started massaging the muscles in your shoulder blades. You started relaxing a bit, leaning into his massage as you were just happy that the booming stopped. You tried to get comfortable for a second as your legs pressed against his stomach and you remembered where you were.

"Are you ok in there?" He asked, it sounded genuine and auctly kind hearted. He sounded somewhere in his mid 20s.

You had felt acids before and nothing was hurting, slight pain in some of your joints and neck but that was it. "Y-ya, I uhh... I guess I'm fine" Your voice was scratchy and horus. You let your mind wander for a bit, you were in his stomach and it wasn't hurting you at all. Then your mind raced back to why he ate you. "Oh uhhh... ya- umm...... WHAT WAS THAT!" You screamed at him. It must have scared him a bit as he jostled around a bit before his stomach started to sway.

You could feel him slithering a bit until he started resting against something. "Ya, sorry I ate you, I had to try and keep you safe from the giant. If I didn't hide you they would have killed you" he sounded apologetic and a bit sad while saying that.

"Fine, I guess that's a good enough excuse. Can you let me out now. I need to find my team and get back to that castle" you didn't want your friends to start worrying but it was probably to late for that.

"I would but I can't, not right now at least. It's already night and the ground has already started moving. I'll have to wait till morning to let you out" he sounded apologetic but you thought you could hear a bit of joy in his voice as talked.

"Why do I have to stay curled up all night in your stomach, and how do i know your not going to digest me!" You said a little angry and getting ready to pull out your knife.

"The ground is moving, the tall bumps you saw where what move under the ground, and when something touches them they open up and drag whatever it is down under ground. No one I've met knows what it is beacuse no one's ever come out"

"Then what about my friends"

"They'll be fine, these things are rare, if I wasn't here you would have been eaten by them... auctly, you would have been killed by the giant first. Also I'm not going to digest you, I can control my digestive system, and even if I couldn't, us nagas take weeks to digest our prey"

"All right, but I can't sleep like this. Can you let me out on the tree so I can go to sleep"

"I told you, I can't. Here, I was about to go to sleep as well, if you can turn around I can straighten you out."

It didn't seem like you had much of a choice, and for some reason you trusted him. You started trying to turn around when gravity started to shift around you. Gravity was constantly changing directions and interrupting any progress you made. You eventually got turned around as his movement finally stopped and you could tell he was leaning against something and slightly swaying. "All right, I'm turned around, what was your big idea. Also what took you so long to settle down" you said, still pissed at the situation.

"I had to tie a knot in my tail so you wouldn't go too far, if you did go to far I wouldn't be able to bring back up without it taking a full day"

It occurred to you that you were taking him at his word, you had no reason to trust what he was saying and less reason for you to trust he wasn't going to hurt you. You had no idea what was outside and you didn't see anything before he ate you. What is going on, and why was there a part of you that's saying everything is ok? "Hey, what are you planning? I need to get back to my team as soon as possible"

"Were going to sleep safely in the trees until morning and then I'm going to take you to the king. After we talk with him and he does all his king stuff I'll help you find your friends and then take you back to your world"

"Fine, but why did you want me to turn around. I'm still squished in your gut" It didn't take long for the the stomach to start pressing in on you harder. Your feet were pushed through a hole in the bottom of his stomach. Your legs started to follow down. Your hands were caught by the tight muscles and were pulled down with you waist. Your chest felt slightly crushed as the rhythmic pushing and pulling of muscles kept working you down. Your decent started to slow as your shoulder's were caught. Your head and neck were the only thing left in the human stomach. He ran a hand lightly over your head before pushing you down further. You were finaly fully in his second stomach. It was warm, sure it was cramped but it was comparable. You realized there was a gentle swaying like you were on a hammock. The stomach mussels kept trying to work you further down but your feet were caught and you couldn't go down any more. "So, I'm just supposed to sleep like this. What's your name anyway?" The naga gently rubbed where your forehead was.

"Could you at least try to go to sleep? My names Xorha by the way, what's your name?" He was gently rubbing at your shoulder's.

"I'm Y/N" you pushed back at his hands "I'll try and go to sleep now. Goodnight" you reluctantly fell asleep, but it was much easier than you thought it would be. The rhythmic heartbeat and breathing along with gentle massage his stomach gave drifted you along.

"Well, goodnight" Xorah sounded tired. He let out a long hiss like yawn. "Why are you so angry?"

"Beacuse I lost my entire team, I- (yawn) I need to find them" You couldn't keep your eyes open but it's not like it mattered, you couldn't see either way. You could hear Xorah talking but you were already drifted too far, you were already practically asleep. You would never admit it to anybody but this was much more comfortable than any bed you've slept in.

#safe vore #soft vore #unwilling prey #naga pred #protective vore #extreme cuddling

59 notes · View notes

shoichee · 4 years ago

Note

ALSO CAN I ASK FOR SOME RANDOM GOM HCS U HAVE? like just random ones u have or if u want like some toxic hcs abt them :D

I’m assuming that I can include their negative traits of their personalities as well 👀 Also including Momoi in this… lots of analyzing for this hc, so I used my brain here pls appreciate AGAIN these are all headcanons/interpretations of possible toxic hcs about them and only a few are canon

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko is the hardest person to find a “negative/toxic” trait in, and it doesn’t seem like he has any

kind, understanding, hardworking, and compassionate; he’s everything a good-natured protagonist is

but he’s only like this to people/hobbies he cares about/close with; anything else he’s quite apathetic and also very passive/neutral about

the biggest hint to this is when Akashi criticizes Kuroko for cherry-picking who the GoMs should “go all out against” and who to casually toy with

and Akashi is absolutely correct

most of the series is portrayed through Kuroko’s perspective, and Akashi is the first direct outside perspective who comments on his actions/attitude

it’s obviously not that Kuroko didn’t “notice”... he clearly sees and knows what these GoMs are doing; after all, he had a conversation with Aomine about how observant he is to everything around him

of course, if you were close to him, all your opinions and issues matter to him

it’s the fact that what’s not really important to him is suddenly now important just because someone he knows is involved

just an example: if someone was advocating climate change, he has no opinion on it until someone he knows cares about the issue

in other words, he has a subtle hypocritical view on things, especially when he interacts with others

another clear negative trait could be that he’s too idealistic or perhaps naive, seeing things in a clear black-or-white picture and not necessarily a gray area

WE know, as an audience, that the GoMs honestly needed therapy and a proper adult to guide their out-of-control talents

but Kuroko, in his eyes, had viewed them as “bad” and “evil” in their ways of basketball until they changed after their respective matches

he’s probably someone who doesn’t yield to other opinions once he forms his own, and this may make him unable to consider things in other people’s perspectives

which is again, ironic: someone who doesn’t have generally a strong stance but once they do, it’s very unyielding, which further proves Akashi’s comment about Kuroko’s tendency to nitpick which to care about

a final hc about a potential flaw he might have here in a different ask!

Kise Ryota

y’all… it’s as canon as day that he has a mean side

straight from the author himself, it’s confirmed that Kise is only kind to those who he respects, and to the rest, he’s cold-hearted

in the manga, it’s very clear that he’s super judgmental on every first impression on people he meets, boxing them into categories based on the way they look, act, and speak

only when they surpass his preset expectations (low or high depends on his preliminary judgments of them) is when he opens his mind to the rest of their personality

this is a very close-minded way of thinking, and I hope I don’t need to explain why LOL

this can be interpreted as him being two-faced by the majority of the people in his school

his way of speaking can definitely be very cruel and crass, and to sensitive people, his words can easily shatter hearts

Kise’s negative/toxic traits are pretty straightforward here, so let’s move on

Midorima Shintarou

his harsh words can be considered a “negative” part of his personality, but I think it’s a lot more than just that

it’s confirmed in the series that he’s a bystander and almost always minds his own business

on one hand, one can say he’s self-driven and that he constantly strives for self-improvement

on the other, it can be interpreted as him being very dangerously ambitious and selfish, in which most actions he takes are for the sole reason of self-improvement and not for altruistic reasons

for example, when he helped Kuroko and Kagami in the training camp, it was under the reasoning that them becoming stronger would be a good challenge for himself to test and learn

that’s not to say that he can’t have friends, but most friendships he’s built are with capable people who can potentially provide him with some new beneficial skill/goal to strive towards

after all, he’s only learned to trust Takao as a friend only after seeing him as someone capable

because he’s so focused on himself, he’s extremely likely to turn a blind eye to injustice, most also likely to use Oha Asa to justify their “misfortunes” as he continues on his day

he’s not cold-hearted, but altruism comes by Midorima a lot rarer than the average person

now, we know that his Oha Asa aspect is used to balance his serious side as the “comedic side” of him, but if we really think about it, his obsessions with the horoscopes could be a huge obstacle in the future, where he may refuse to listen/depend on others in favor of his own intuition and the stars; after all, no one knows everything, and depending on the stars as one’s next source of advice and guidance isn’t a sound decision to commit themselves to

he seems like the person who overthinks and jumps to conclusions when it comes to social situations, but instead of confronting the person, he turns to fate and fortune if Takao isn’t near to help

Aomine Daiki

I wouldn’t be surprised if Aomine had a skewed sense of beauty standards from all those magazines he consumed and from being around Momoi for the majority of his life

of course anyone can distinguish pieces of media from reality, but during the most impressionable years of life, without experiencing other types of people and physiques, he would have limited knowledge on what “beauty” is and whatnot

this probably would be more of a problem in his adolescence than adult

a very given negative trait is his short temper plus his tendency to turn to physical violence when someone nags him to a certain point, seen with how he’s treated Wakamatsu in the beginning (though this seems to almost disappear by the end of the series)

what I’ve noticed in every scene he’s in, is that everything seems to revolve around him and his hobbies of basketball and Japanese idols

what I mean is that everytime we see Aomine, it’s always Momoi approaching to Aomine or just him always being the center of attention; never once has he approached Momoi for anything and it’s always been the other way around

in other words, people have to cater to him in order to get along with him/be in good graces (additional example: Imayoshi letting him do as he pleases to get him to be cooperative and participate in the games)

we’ve actually never seen Momoi’s hobbies outside of being a manager for her basketball teams and just anything basketball-related

he can be quite apathetic, choosing to only pay attention and try in things he’s interested in… which is basketball and those magazines

he seems to mature in the Last Game though, so I’m not quite sure to what extent these headcanons would apply to older Aomine (these also don’t really apply to Puremine)

Momoi Satsuki

the author probably also included this type of anime trope as comedy, but belittling another female for her body is definitely a no-go in reality; I feel like this is something most people gloss over really lightly

her body comments on Riko are actually what made me skeptical of her character at first before the show really shows her entire personality

that being said, it seems that she always takes the opportunity to look down on other girls (especially to those she is a stranger to) as a sort of “competition” when there’s boys around

definitely at certain moments, she screams a “pick-me girl” type of person (real phenomenon, you can search this up!)

while Kuroko doesn’t seem to actively mind this, I think she also has no good sense of boundaries and what’s considered appropriate touch and consent; people can chalk this up to “oh it’s just infatuation,” but this definitely isn’t okay if we really think about this

her life also seems to revolve around either Aomine or Kuroko, and based from that, I’d feel like she’d have a difficult time forming her own identity/life separate from her “manager life,” especially once she graduates from Touou

can definitely be interpreted as too clingy at certain moments, while others may think it’s her way of showing that she cares

Murasakibara Atsushi

most people would chalk up Murasakibara as “lazy,” and on the surface level, it does appear to look that way…

I think his true negative trait is that he has a lack of intrinsic motivations to drive him to do things

it’s different from being lazy; someone can be lazy while still having a goal, and certainly someone can be lazy while they’re motivated by thoughts of “I want to learn more,” “I want to get stronger,” etc. (you guys, it’s me right now in college)

and he doesn’t have that

part of this was contributed to the fact that he’s already so gifted with genetics and thus, there’s never been a goal for him to have to work towards to when he’s already at the top

he doesn’t actively seek out, and while that may be a characteristic of sloth, it’s not exactly right either

he willingly does things if people around him give him the motivations/reasons to do so; a person of sloth wouldn’t do anything even with all the motivations and goals handed right to their face

snacks/food are examples of extrinsic motivations that fuel him to carry on daily life

Himuro is always the main motivator for Murasakibara to come out and watch matches, and he also does whatever Akashi orders in both Teiko and present days // a person who can give the giant the motivation to do tasks would get along with him the most

searching out for a challenge against his basketball skills is something that’s never crossed his mind

why? he grew to be like the way he is because of the lack of results from his “search” of a challenge throughout his games

again, it’s only when Murasakibara gets handed a silver-platter of a challenge, Jason Silver, that actively gets him pumped up and raring to go

as such, Murasakibara is equivalent to a rusty machine, extremely difficult to start up and find compatibility with, but very powerful and efficient once he finds that spark

Murasakibara finding any partner or friend in the future would be extremely difficult because he ticks a different tune from the rest

Akashi Seijuro

his entire Bokushi side was a giant-ass red flag for very obvious reasons LOL anyways, moving on…

it’s difficult to pinpoint a negative characteristic for Oreshi because he’s the pinnacle of a gentleman character… but that technically is also his negative trait

for him to maintain that perfect image for himself and others, he has always carried himself in such a way that doesn’t allow for errors or expressions of “weakness”

thus, bottling up his frustrations and emotions to the point of no return is something very familiar to Akashi, and I’d feel like Bokushi is the result of his overflowing emotions left unchecked in the first place

I also predict that if Akashi continues to carry himself without letting himself wind down and feel emotions on the spot rather than locking it up inside him, a day will come when he splits into two halves again with a “new” Bokushi to deal with his current life (and let the current Oreshi take a backseat in his psyche to take a break from the turmoil)

also will tend to overwork himself to manage people’s expectations as well as his own, and he’s not one to depend on people not because he sees them as inferior or incapable, but because he’s doing this out of habit from being in positions of authority and responsibility for much of his life

and so, he may tend to hide important things or just not speak about his problems in general to those close to him because he feels like he can do it all himself and spare everyone the work and stress associated with them (a leader mentality)

throughout the majority of his life being calm and calculated, his emotions would definitely escape from him in forms of uncontrollable lashes of anger… before he would realize what he’s done… that is, assuming that another Bokushi hasn’t form within his subconscious yet

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

My Side

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: language, lots of smut, prostate massage, fluff, some mentions of angst (but it’s very minimal)

Genre: Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Y/N has had her entire future planned out ever since she could remember: step one- graduate college (done), step two- find a good-paying job (done), step three- marry someone she adores (done), and step four- have kids (???). She understands that life is full of obstacles, but is it too much to ask for your husband to finally knock you up?

A/N: Big apology to this anon user who requested this and had to wait like 8 billion years for me to finish it.

The fertility clinic was unusually cold, and I found myself shivering in direct contradiction with the sweltering summer heat collecting outside of the office building. Maybe that was the point: the doctors wanted to keep you totally alert while you waited for what seemed like hours for a standard routine visit. Because I could’ve already fallen asleep at this point - taking advantage of my day off from work to do something other than fret over the working condition of my reproductive system.

Of course, there was also the issue of my grumpy husband who had been thoroughly displeased when he found out exactly what a pap smear test implied. “He was totally checking you out when we came in,” Chan said. “Then, he insisted on sticking that thing up your vagina?”

“Oh, give it a rest, Chan,” I said. “I knew they would do that before I even came here.”

“I think he just wanted to look at your pussy,” Chan insisted. “And he did it right in front of me like I didn’t even exist!”

“You weren’t forced to stay in the room,” I pointed out, which I would’ve preferred but Chan insisted on standing over me like some kind of jealous observer who actually wanted to watch such an intimate procedure.

“Yeah, he would’ve preferred that,” Chan said, leaning further back in his chair. “How the hell is this even supposed to help us? We’ve only been trying for a few months.”

“Well, I want to make sure everything is working properly,” I said, and (just to spite him) I glanced down at his crotch. “What if you’re having performance issues, honey?”

“My dick works just fine,” Chan insisted. “But you know what? I think it’s partially your fault that we can’t pregnant. You’re putting too much pressure on him and it’s hard for me to focus.”

“Him?” I questioned with a grin. "Do you really want to personify your penis?”

“That’s not the point!” Chan exclaimed. “Did you even hear me, Y/N?”

“But what is the point, Chan? What exactly are you having trouble focusing on?” I asked. “We’re talking about fucking, not a tax audit. Keep the office out of our bedroom.”

“You don’t think I know the difference?”

“Apparently not since it requires more effort than necessary for you to orgasm,” I screeched, barely getting the words out before the doctor’s return.

Immediately, Chan and I were both forced smiles, pretending like we weren’t just having a pointless argument. “Well,” the doctor said. “Everything is fine on your end, Mrs. Bang. I guess that means we can perform some tests on your husband.”

“Oh, that would be great,” I said, even as Chan shifted restlessly from next to me. “Is there anything you need?”

“We’d like to ask you for a sperm sample,” the doctor replied while handing Chan a clear, transparent plastic cup that he accepted with obvious hesitation. “I’ll give you some time.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking over at Chan who was glaring at the cup as if personally offended by its presence.

But at least he waited until the doctor was gone before looking at me with wide eyes. “What do I do?” Chan asked, holding up the plastic cup while appearing thoroughly taken aback.

“It’s just masturbating,” I hissed at him.

“They want me to jerk off into this cup?” Chan gasped like the idea was so totally perplexing to him.

“How else will they get a sperm sample?” I asked him, rolling my eyes because I was growing impatient.

But Chan still hesitated, using one hand to hold the cup while his other traveled down to the front of his jeans. “Do I just...”

“Yes!” I shouted while standing up from my chair. “It’s nothing hard, Chan, you’ve been masturbating since 9th grade!”

“Yeah, but it’s embarrassing to do it here,” Chan argued, and I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time that day.

“There’s a curtain for privacy,” I said, reaching for my bag from the floor. “I’ll be waiting outside until you’re done.”

“Y/N!” Chan whined, but I left without another word, hoping that Chan could get his shit together because I was exhausted and the prospect of the bed waiting for me at home was suddenly everything that I wanted.

It turned out that Chan and I were both perfectly healthy, and there should be nothing impeding my ability to finally get pregnant. Chan even managed to smile after our doctor complimented his sperm because they were powerful swimmers or whatever the hell that meant. But that had also been hours ago, and after a well-deserved nap, I was feeling exceptionally horny. Thankfully, Chan was never the type to turn down sex, and a few innocent kisses had turned into a full-blown pornography session within moments of me circling my hips against the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me, Chan,” I said, and he nodded eagerly as we both helped each other escape the obstacle of our clothes.

“You should apologize to my dick first,” Chan said teasingly when he had me spread open in front of him, fisting his cock as he started jerking himself off.

“What? Why?”

“You questioned my performance earlier,” Chan said with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe my cock isn’t good enough for you.”

“It’s fine,” I said, whining when I tried to wrap my hand around the base of his erection, only to have Chan knock it away with a sharp growl. "Alright!” I groaned. “I’m sorry I questioned your all-powerful shaft, okay? So, can you please just fuck me already?”

Chan chuckled at my easy compliance, and he ran his thumb across the slit of his cock before positioning himself at my wet entrance. “Remember that next time, Y/N,” he said, exhaling shakily when he started to push inside.

“Shit!” I cried, reaching out for his broad shoulders as I held on as tight as possible for the ride waiting ahead of me.

“Such a tight cunt,” Chan remarked, pausing a moment to grind himself against my insides just to feel the pressure around his cock.

“Go faster,” I requested, throwing my head back when he complied, smacking his hips into mine as he searched for the perfect angle to leave me seeing stars.

“Yeah?” Chan purred, and he started thrusting faster than before, dragging his cock against the pulsating walls of my cunt, forcing more arousal to leak out around him. “Look at how good you always take my cock, baby.”

I reveled in the praise, craning my neck to the side just so that I could watch him disappear inside of me over and over again to match the sensation of his thick cock filling me up so well that it was almost mind-numbingly good. The best part was the pleasing sound of Chan’s moans, and I admired the way that he held himself up over me so that his muscles were practically bulging as he rolled his hips with seductive grinds. Meanwhile, I was drooling over the visual of his bulging biceps, whining underneath him because Chan was being unusually rough. Not that I would ever complain since every thrust managed to brush the tip of his cock perfectly against my cervix.

But it was only after Chan reached down to add a finger to the already tight fit of his cock inside my pussy that I remembered something that I had read on the internet as part of my endless pregnancy research. My eyes flew open at the reminder, and the lustful haze surrounding my sex-addled brain quickly vanished. “Hold on, Chan,” I said, pushing against his chest and disrupting the steady rhythm he had been maintaining.

“W-what?” Chan stuttered, pulling out while watching me roll over onto my stomach.

“This is a better position,” I said, raising my ass high into the air before giving him a teasing wiggle.

“Whatever,” Chan grunted, still too gone in his pleasure to care that much about my shenanigans. He immediately caged me in with his thighs, fumbling with his erect cock before aligning the tip with my aching cunt. I was relieved when he started jostling his cock back where it belonged, meandering in elegant strokes that resulted in the best friction.

“Make sure you come,” I told him while decorating the pale skin of his shoulders with nail marks as I reached behind me.

“You first,” Chan insisted, and my heart warmed at his selflessness even while it felt like all the blood inside of me was rushing south, moving through my veins and spilling over with a rapid descent that left me seeing white while Chan moved even quicker, thrusting like a man deprived.

I felt him come only moments later with the familiar heat that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the last few months. Thereafter, I immediately reached for a pillow from behind me, wincing at the sensitivity that lingered between my legs. “What are you doing?” Chan asked when he collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s supposed to help,” I said, raising my hips to place the pillow directly underneath me. “This article said that raising your legs after sex can improve your chances.”

“That seems ridiculous, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Hey! Blame your sperm,” I countered. “It’s not my fault they need an extra boost.”

“My sperm are just fine,” Chan grunted. “You heard the doctor. They’re excellent swimmers.”

“This is just a precaution,” I told him, sighing in relief when I reached down to cup my heat, ensuring that all of Chan’s cum stayed inside where it belonged.

For the past several weeks, work had become something of a chore that I was forced to endure on a regular basis. It was often a struggle to force my way through piles of paperwork or tedious emails that always said much of the same thing. After a while, I would find myself glaring at the clock because I was quite certain that time was moving slow for the sole purpose of annoying me.

There was also the issue of dealing with my colleagues, especially the ones who liked to gossip and had effectively made a whole thing out of my failed attempts at pregnancy. “Oh, Y/N,” they would tell me. “It’s been three months, hasn’t it?”

Like they didn’t have anything better to do with their lives besides meddle in mine. But the worst of them all were the ones who decided that they were some kind of authority figures and tried to give me helpful “advice.” Everything from the shit that I had already heard from my doctor and the articles online, to bizarre practices that left me wondering where they found their information.

My manager’s personal assistant was a frequent advocate. She was far more insistent than the rest of them because she already had two kids at home who she described as future Mozarts in the making. And because she had already been successful (twice, I might add), she always sat next to me at lunch with a new suggestion that supposedly guaranteed fertilization.

“It could be that he’s under too much pressure,” she told me before biting into her salad.

“I’m asking him to have sex with me, not invent a new computer,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve both been having a lot of sex, which might seem like a good idea,” she continued. “But it might actually turn out to be far worse.”

“What do you suggest then? Should I kick him out of the bedroom for a week or two?” I snarked, but she was hardly bothered by my sarcastic attitude.

“My husband and I tried stimulating him more directly,” she explained. “Maybe you could try it out.”

“How so?”

“It’s something like a prostate massage,” she revealed in a hushed tone as if it was top-secret information. “There’s all kinds of information about it on the internet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, wanting nothing more than to brush aside her words, but maybe I was too desperate because I found myself skimming through countless articles after lunch, soaking in the vast amounts of information that I uncovered.

And I left the office that day with a new strategy in mind to surprise my husband.

The moment I first walked through the door, I was yanking off my jacket and calling for Chan who ducked his head out of our bedroom. “Why the hell are you yelling?”

“Because I have a wonderful idea,” I said, practically skipping over to him and offering him a deep kiss.

“Y/N,” Chan murmured against my touch, grabbing my shoulders to pull me back. “What are you going on about?”

“Just take your stupid clothes off,” I said, skirting past him into the bedroom. “I want you naked on the bed.”

“You’re already horny?” Chan chuckled, but he made no protest of yanking his shirt over his head.

“I want to try something,” I told him, opening the door to our closet to search for something that we hadn’t used together in a long time.

“Should I be afraid?” Chan asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as he fisted his half-hard erection.

“Not if you have an open mind,” I said, turning around to hold up the bottle of lube, and Chan’s smile instantly vanished.

“What’s that for?”

“Well, tonight I’m using it on you,” I said, laughing at the way his forehead creased in confusion. “My co-worker actually made a pretty useful recommendation today.”

“Okay?...” Chan trailed off with an expression of perfect concentration - like he was doing his absolute best to understand.

“The internet called it prostate milking,” I explained, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at the horrified expression on Chan’s face. “I want to stimulate your prostate.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Chan asked.

“Look, it has a lot of medical benefits,” I said. “Plus, I read that it can feel really good.”

Chan squired anxiously on the bed when I sat down next to him, and I could see that his cock was perfectly flaccid between his legs. “I don’t know, Y/N-”

“Don’t worry,” I interrupted him. “This is perfectly normal. Now, be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees.”

Chan frowned. “Good boy?” he grumbled before obeyed my command, crawling his way up the bed to position himself in the way I had suggested.

“There we go,” I said, softly running a hand down his spine.

“So far, I’m not impressed,” Chan muttered.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” I said, situating myself behind him before palming his ass. “This looks better than I remember, Channie.”

“Yeah, I guess the squats helped,” Chan said, and he flinched when I snapped a glove in place over my right hand. “What’s that for?”

“You think I’m gonna mess around your ass without a glove?” I snorted. “That’s not very hygienic.”

“Hygienic, yeah, okay,” Chan huffed, and he let out a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt when I opened the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my fingertips.

“Hold still,” I said, trying to get him to relax when my finger started circling his asshole, pushing against the tight muscle which wasn’t so easy to penetrate. However, with enough perseverance, I forced one finger inside and heard Chan release a rather unattractive sound.

“How does it feel?” I asked him, trying to move my finger around like I had read online.

“It just feels like you’ve shoved your finger up my ass,” Chan snapped, and I knew not to take it personally since he wasn’t so willing to go along with my crazy scheme in the first place.

“Don’t be so tense,” I said, rubbing my hand along his lower back. “Should I use more lube?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N,” Chan groaned, and I could tell that he was growing frustrated.

I was also losing confidence - wondering if this had been a bad idea because it definitely wasn’t as easy as my co-worker promised. Plus, I could tell that Chan was uncomfortable, squirming around under me while his cock hung limply between his legs. Clearly, he wasn’t finding any pleasure from this, and maybe it was entirely my fault for jumping into this without more preparation.

“Shit, Chan,” I said, removing my finger while releasing a sigh. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have done this.”

I cleared my throat, feeling increasingly anxious when Chan refused to respond to my apology. He was still supporting himself on his hands in front of me, chest heaving up and down with each breath. I could see that the bright red tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment and that only made me feel worse because the last thing I wanted to do was make this bad for him.

Eventually, Chan rolled off to the side of the bed, collecting his sweatpants from the floor before walking into the bathroom. I closed my eyes when the door slammed behind him, and I quietly left the bedroom to give Chan some privacy because it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the situation.

So much for my co-worker’s stupid suggestion.

However, in the grand scheme of things, I was always the first to recognize when my actions warranted reprimand.

After sleeping on the couch in the living room, I woke-up with a sore lower back and a guilty conscious. Chan had already left for work that morning, and he probably hadn’t paid me a single glance. But I probably deserved his wrath, which meant I would do everything that I could to make it up to him.

Consequently, I found myself flashing a bright smile at Chan’s office secretary who greeted me politely before calling Chan’s phone to see if he had some time to see me. There was a small part of me which worried that Chan might send me away because of last night’s events. Thankfully, his secretary waved me inside and I took a deep breath before opening the door while carrying the packed lunch I prepared for him.

Once inside, Chan offered me a cursory glance that only lasted a brief moment until his attention was once again focused on the file in front of him. “Channie,” I said, wincing at my shrill tone. “I brought you some lunch.”

I hesitated when Chan didn’t respond - walking over to his desk to carefully deposit the bag on his desk. I waited for a brief moment, but Chan refused to acknowledge me, which meant I needed to approach him more directly. “I’m sorry about last night, Channie,” I said, coming around his desk to perch myself on the edge. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m also sorry about the past few months because I’ve been so desperate to finally have my positive pregnancy test that I started to really neglect you.”

The pen Chan had been writing with stopped in the middle of whatever sentence he had been writing, and my husband finally allowed me the privilege of looking into his dark brown eyes. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at you, Y/N,” Chan said, and I nearly burst into tears at the simple declaration.

“You deserve to be mad at me,” I said. “I can’t believe you let me get away with acting like this. You should get the husband of the year award or whatever.”

Chan chuckled, tossing his pencil aside. “Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you, and I want it just as much, but maybe it would be nice if we could be intimate sometimes without worrying about whether or not we’re following all those advice columns you read.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, and I pushed myself away from the edge of the desk and fell onto my knees in front of him - reaching out to grab his thighs between my hands. “What if I blew you right here in the office?”

Chan’s answering moan was enough to solidify my resolve, and I easily worked apart the belt fastening around his suit pants. My fingers worked with an experienced touch because this wasn’t the first time we had done something like this in his big executive office and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan said, grabbing large handfuls of my hair while directing my lips closer to his exposed cock-head.

“Let me take care of you, darling,” I said, offering a tentative lick to his pulsating tip. Chan was already hard, and I gave him a few strokes with my hand before allowing my mouth to take care of the rest - opening wide to take him as deep as I could without gagging.

“Look at you,” Chan snarled, and his fingers traced the seam of my lips stretched obscenely around his cock.

I moaned around his erection, and Chan closed his eyes as he fingers tightened their hold - hips moving every so often to force his cock even further down my throat. But I’m sure it made for one hell of a visual, and I hollowed my cheeks as I ran my tongue across the distinct vein trailing along the underside.

“Keep going,” Chan said, and I could tell that he was close. And I started bobbing my head up and down, mimicking the same effect of his cock fucking my pussy, relaxing my throat and encouraging Chan to do whatever he needed to push himself over the edge.

He eventually came with an exaggerated groan, and I wrinkled my nose at the taste of him. Yet, I knew better than to let anything go to waste, and I struggled around the rawness of my throat as I swallowed - swiping my tongue around the head of his spent cock to clean up the excess.

“Was it good?” I asked him with a hoarse voice.

“Of course it was,” Chan replied, encouraging me off the floor and into his lap. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as I listened to his heart slow back down to normal. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, teasing his lips across mine. “You’re not gonna freak out over the fact that we just wasted my perfectly good semen?”

I rolled my eyes before playfully hitting his shoulder. “It’s never a waste if it makes you come like that.”

He smiled, bringing out the fullness of his dimples, and we sat together while Chan ate his lunch and I mindlessly talked about the latest office gossip. It was moments like these that I loved more than anything about my marriage to Chan - pregnancy be damned. Ironically, it was only a few weeks later that I found myself looking down at a thin white strip with a blue cross displayed across the surface: positive.

#stayverse #skzsmutnetwork #skzwriternet #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan fanfic #chan fanfic #skz chan fanfic #bang chan smut #chan smut #skz smut #skz fluff #skz reader insert

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mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

Text

Redemption (Don Giorno x Fem! reader)

For all intents and purposes this was meant to be sad and angsty, but my basic bish ass couldn't, so here we are ❤️💭🥺

I listened to this song while thinking this scenario up, it somehow just added gravity to my thoughts.

Word count: 2865

“Finally” you mused to yourself as you peeked outside from your apartment window. The sun was out in all its golden splendor after days and days of dreary, rainy grey skies. You could appreciate chilly, stormy weather but even you had a limit, and it was awfully cold and lonely when all you had hold on to was a spare pillow. No. No more wallowing, the sun was out and you’d be late for work if you didn’t get on the go. So you put on your prettiest little sundress and walked to your office, a day like this couldn’t be wasted.

Smiling into the sky, absorbing all the sunshine you could, you made a mental to-do list for your day. Life was slowly starting to look up for you, you landed a new job that you loved, you finally went back to studying towards your passion, and you finally started feeling like yourself again. The sparkle had returned to your eyes, and that gentle smile had found your face again. To everyone around you, you were positively radiant. Little did you know, that your glow was also being observed by someone you locked away carefully in the dark recesses of your past…

Giorno wasn’t intentionally watching you, he just happened to be sitting at the Café you both usually went to on your way back from your morning run. You always fussed that you wouldn’t lose any weight if you immediately ate the calories you exercised away, to which he always responded that you were perfect, earning a shy smile from you. A winsome expression occupied his handsome face as he recalled the memories of you… he had to remind himself that they were just memories though, and that chapter of his life had ended, rather softly, just over a year ago. However, the ripples of that awful conversation still remained with him, disturbing the still waters of his heart.

He looked at you until you disappeared around the corner, contemplating if it would be wise to go after you, ultimately deciding against it. If fate would afford him another opportunity to see you, then he would act on that, knowing full well that you were well within your rights to never want to see him again… but so much has changed since then, if you could just give him another chance, he would prove that he’s become the man you deserve.

“Giogio, sorry I’m late, oh I thought Mista would be here already… why are we here anyway?” asked Fugo as he rushed in in a huff.

“Oh good morning, Fugo, Mista is otherwise engaged, he won’t be joining us. There’s no particular reason, its just a beautiful day, I thought a change of scenery would be nice, the coffee is delicious here as well,”

“And you just might run into her again…” interrupted Fugo, “it’s been, what? A year now? Don’t you feel it’s time to move on? I’m sure she’s moved on by now as well,”

“She hasn’t, I know she hasn’t just yet I’m sure of it. Look, I’ve tried, it’s not going to be fair to anyone involved if I just go off with a random person again, I’ll always be looking for her, it’s not fair to them or myself,” replied Giorno, his tone being slightly harsher than he intended.

Fugo grimaced at the bite in Giorno’s voice, “I’m just looking out for you,”

“I know, I’m sorry, I saw her this morning, she looked well. I’ve decided I’m not going to pursue anyone else now, I want her back, so that’s what I’m going to do. Anyway, I just wanted to touch bases since I haven’t seen anyone since flying back. Everything is still under control I presume?” asked Giorno, wanting to change the subject.

“Just think about this carefully Giorno, it’s your decision at the end of day. Well, everything is fine here, everyone is behaving as they should. Your hard work over the years is paying off now,”

“Good, if we can maintain this, then it would have all been worth it, we’ve sacrificed so much to get this far,” there was an edge to Giorno’s voice, a sliver of the resolve he displayed years ago when he was still a soldato, peeking through. There was very little, if anything at all, that Giorno couldn’t get if he set his mind to it.

Your work day was going well, you were busy from the time you set foot in the office, so you were thankful to step out of the office for an hour when your lunch break rolled around. Deciding you weren’t really hungry, you just ordered your favorite mocha frappe and decided to use the time to catch up on your reading for class.

It was still sunny and warm outside, so you decided to sit at a park bench and take advantage of the lovely atmosphere. You took in your surroundings for a few minutes before whipping out your tablet and finding the journal articles you wanted to go over.

Giorno had just ended off his last appointment and was being driven home when he saw you sitting on the bench, quietly drinking your frappe, absorbed by whatever it was you were reading. Asking the driver to pull over, he took a few moments to gaze at you, you were just so beautiful, even more so now. It was his moment, taking a deep breath and smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in his clothes, he made his way towards you, summoning up his confidence with each step he took.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, would you….” You had to look twice to make sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

“Are you well, cara? It’s been so long,” Giorno cringed at his choice of words but there was no going back now.

“Giorno… hi… wait, what are you doing here?” There was so much more you wanted to ask him, but those were the only words you managed to string together.

“I was on my way home when I saw you here, I just wanted to say hello. It’s been an eternity since I’ve seen you. It’s entirely up to you if you want to talk, or if you want me to leave now, I can, I just couldn’t ignore you after seeing you,” Giorno explained, thinking about how awkward he sounded. He played this moment out in his mind a thousand times, never once imagining that he would come off sounding so inept.

The nervous giggle you spoke through as you answered him further eroded away at his makeshift confidence. Who was he trying to fool, he thought to himself. He still adored you, clearly you still held all the power in this situation, but you were too virtuous to realise it.

That was one of your best traits, but also your worst, you were an idealist, often becoming disenchanted when things didn’t work out the way you planned. Giorno on the other hand was a realist, yes, he had many dreams, but he held no illusions about how to reach them or the sacrifices that would ultimately need to be made. This difference in world views resulted in many an argument, until finally you decided that you couldn’t keep fighting with this man, who only seemed to drift further and further away from you despite how much you loved him. To him you came off as arrogant and ungrateful, unwilling to see how certain decisions, however impossible, had to be made and it filled him with misery to do so, and to you, he came off as cold and unforgiving, willing to cast away precious bits of his humanity, and for what? He never explained anything to you.

Feeling uncomfortable with the silence after you spoke, Giorno tried to keep the conversation going.

“Your hair, you’ve let it grow out, it’s beautiful…” he said gazing dreamily at you.

“Oh, yeah, it’s due mostly to laziness, but it worked, so I just went with it, but thank you, you look very good too, life’s been treating you well,” you said with a bright smile. In your heart of hearts you knew a part of you would always love Giorno and would want him to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. You were trying not to stare at him too much, but it was incredibly difficult not to, with his long golden curls and chiseled, handsome face that smiled so softly, you really couldn’t look away for very long.

“I’d really like to continue this catch up, I can tell you have somewhere else to be though… would you like to meet me for dinner tonight? Nothing fancy, just a couple of friends catching up,” he asked earnestly, his eyes searching your face for any hint of what might be going on in your mind.

Your heart fluttered against your will, you wanted to decline his offer but against your better judgment you agreed. It was just one dinner, a catchup between friends, could you even call each other that though? No matter, numbers had been exchanged and you had to dash back to your office to carry on with your work. No sooner had you sat down at your desk, did Giorno text you the time and place to meet him.

The rest of your day flew by, although you wished it would have dragged, and before you knew it, it was time for you to go home and freshen up before meeting Giorno. Staring at your reflection in what must have been your fourth outfit change, you scolded yourself for over thinking everything. You hurriedly retouched your hair and makeup and left for the restaurant, knowing you were running a bit late. Walking up the stairs to reach the entrance brought back a rush of memories with each step you took. Recollections of fun dates, precious friends and balmy nights like this bombarded your senses, almost as if you were transported to that very time. You walked in and saw the place empty, except for a table near the balcony. Some things never changed you mused… although you couldn’t blame this on Giorno’s tendency to go over the top this time, booking out entire establishments was less about asserting his clout or showing off, but more about protecting himself from potential threats.

The clicking of your heels on the expensive tiles caught Giorno’s attention, and his senses feasted on the way you were illuminated by the muted lighting, the soft lilt of your voice as you greeted him with a smile and the pretty floral scent you wore- his favorite scent on you.

Giorno stood up to greet you, pulling out your chair for you with all the grace of a nobleman. You noticed he was a lot more relaxed, even abandoning his open chested suits for more casual attire, and wearing his hair completely unbound. He politely waited for you to adjust yourself in your seat before taking his own again. His manners were always impeccable, you thought, even when he fought with you, he was never disrespectful, choosing rather to rely on other means to get his point across.

“Thanks once again for joining me cara, I appreciate you sacrificing your time for me, I hope you don’t mind, I’ve already picked out the wine and appetizers for us. Forgive me but I’m starving,”

“It’s okay, I should be the one to apologize, I arrived late, I’m sorry,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

“It’s alright Bella, it’s a small price to pay for such lovely company,”

Giorno’s words caught you off guard, roping you in with the silken threads of his voice.

“Giorno, what’s going on? Out of nowhere we find ourselves here, in this romantic setting, behaving like a couple. Earlier on you said we’re meeting as friends, although I doubt you dole out such complements to Fugo and Mista,”

“I could, you don’t know that…”

You burst out laughing, perhaps a bit too loudly, at his remark, which earned a soft chuckle from him as well.

“I’m sorry, I guess the mafia has really changed you.”

“Well maybe, but also not that much. In quiet, private moments like these, I’ll always be Gio, your Gio. Well I’m lying there, I guess when I’m with you, I’m just Haruno. You’re the only one who knows me, the real me… I miss this, I miss us,” mumbled Giorno as he spoke in the middle of a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Something about how sad his voice sounded combined with that chaste kiss, picked open a wound you didn’t even know you had, sending to the surface everything you buried deep within your soul, for fear of hurting this man whom you loved so deeply.

“You have no right to look that way, to so unashamedly say these things without thinking about what those words and actions do to me. For years all I’ve ever been doing is running after you, staring at your back, wondering if you’ll ever turn around and truly see me for who I am. When we were in school you just disappeared one day and returned as… this mafia boss. Still, I accepted everything and wanted to build your dream alongside you but again, you never allowed me to stand beside you, and I overlooked that, and so many other things to try and make you happy. And now, after a year, you waltz back into my life as if you were just on vacation. Don’t think I don’t know about the numerous escapades you’ve had, I’m not upset though, you’re a free man, and I’m the one who ended things after all… its just… I don’t even know what I’m doing here, this was a mistake, please excuse me” You stood up to leave when Giorno blocked your way, gripping your wrist tightly enough to restrain you, but not enough to hurt you.

“Please… I’d like for us to talk, there’s so much I need to say. I know I’m being selfish, but please, humor me one last time. If by the end of this evening you want me to leave and never cross your path again, I’ll abide by those wishes” implored Giorno.

Reluctantly, you retake your seat, noticing that even the staff had become invisible.

You looked at the man sitting opposite you , encouraging him to speak.

“Cara, I… I’ve done some questionable things. Many of which I’m not proud of at all. I’ve hurt people, I’ve tried to manipulate you into coming back to me, all of which backfired ending up in me hurting myself and the people around me. But you just kept thriving, I couldn’t stand it. I still can’t stand it. The ugly truth is that you don’t need me, but I need you… you’re my one constant. Make no mistake, amore, you don’t have to do anything to make me happy, you just do, and for that reason I didn’t want to involve you in anything that posed a danger to you. I know it’s not ideal , but I don’t know how else to be,”

Silence cloaked the room after Giorno spoke, you searched his face for the slightest hint that he could be lying, but found none. Unable to hold your gaze any longer, he looked away dejectedly. It’s been years since you’ve seen him expose so much of himself, and it hurt you to know he was still silently fighting his personal battles.

“Thank you Gio, that couldn’t have been easy to say, so I appreciate your candor. You know a large part of me will always love you,”

“but” he interjected, sadness dripping from his voice.

“but getting over you was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I can’t do that again,”

Taking a lock of your hair in his hand, enjoying the intimacy of the act, he replies “what if you didn’t have to do that again? I’m determined to make this work. If you give us another chance, I’ll do things differently. You’ll come to realize that I’ve changed,”

You were scared of going down that path again, but, there was something different in his demeanor this time, something you felt you could trust, so you went with your gut instinct and wordlessly decided you’d give this one last chance, gently grasping the hand that Giorno held your hair with.

“We’ll take things slow bella, from the beginning, I want you to get to know me as I am right now,”

“I’d like that Gio,” you say with a kind smile.

The rest of the long evening was spent wining and dining and engaging in silly conversations about a multitude of things. When it came time for you both to go home, Giorno insisted on taking you home and making sure you were safely inside your apartment before heading home himself. You were hopeful for what the future might hold. That night you fell asleep with a smile after reading the sweet goodnight message from Giorno, thinking that finally the sun came out to shine on you again.

#giorno giovanna #giorno #giorno giovanna x reader #don giorno #don giovanna #giogio #jjba giorno giovanna #jjba #vento aureo #jjba x reader #giorno x reader #post breakup #Spotify

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Spark - 19

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Angst. A/N: Okay...this took a turn I didn’t originally expect, so next chapters might be coming a biiiit slowlier. Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3

19. Fuel

... Reader ...

It’s not the first time you wake with a pounding headache from having been knocked out...and judging by the general tendency of such things happening, you begrudgingly accept that it probably won’t be the last time either. Not that you want to make a habit out of it.

Rather than warm fragrances and soothing light beyond the eyelids, the place (wherever you are) comes across hard, cold, and dark. Blinking under the single electrical light, you take in the damp looking surroundings through a haze until the first wave of nausea passes. Not Asakusa. Admittedly, that’s the understatement of a lifetime but it helps you ground yourself. Chapped concrete walls, a simple cot made of steel, and over in the corner (which really is no further than two steps away) is a table and chair made of the same material. No windows. Only one door without a handle.

Your (or rather Benimaru’s) clothes are gone, replaced by a stiff jumpsuit in an indiscernible grey-faded colour. The idea that someone’s undressed and dressed you intensifies the nausea, but you manage to swallow it down together with the bubbles of fear.

And you wait.

Sometimes there’s the sound of footsteps passing by at the other side of the door, each time making you hold your breath with dread. But nothing happens – not even when the passer by(s) stop outside as if they’re about to enter. Time just passes and you start to tire from the constant vigilance.

At some point, a bland meal arrives through a hatch and slide in the wall by the desk. Nothing impressive. Nothing that tempts you enough to risk anything by eating or drinking it out of fear of what might be in it. I’m overreacting. They caught me, so why would they spike the food or water? But the worry remains unmoved by any amount of logic you can muster.

... Konro ...

Everything has descended into madness.

After returning from the kitchen fire, Konro had presumed that the absence of Beni and [Y/N] was a natural result of their slow start together, but when the night had almost dragged by and the world started to stir, only the captain returned. A grim expression on his face was underlined by the clench of his jaw and fists, his clothes singed and torn.

“Where is -” The question is unnecessary. “Where did you search?”

Benimaru sinks down on the nearest chair. “Third. She’s not there.”

The aftermath of Benimaru’s unsanctioned “search” hit shortly after that.

Representatives from Haijima and the highest up of the Special Fire Force are staring down at the two men from Asakusa, one of which has his mind somewhere else entirely. The last thing needed to dissolve some of the tension is for the captain of Seventh to come off as wry, cooperative, and standoffish.

“I don’t know about a guy with a dark coat and wide-rimmed hat,” Konro sighs, rubbing the scar running across his face, “all I know is that an Asakusan citizen is missing now and that captain Giovanni has practically harassed us on several occasion previous to tonight.” Say something. He attempts to project the desperate wish into Benimaru’s brain. Something useful, he adds.

An exasperated huff betrays one of the Haijima guys, a sleazy man called Oguru, but it’s the Agency Chief who speaks up. “Giovanni...is not a captain anymore.”

Finally, the only captain present seems to listen although his face reveals nothing.

Konro lets his hand fall from his face. “Please explain.”

“As you might know from co-operating with Company Eight, certain...issues have come to light that have dishonoured Giovanni’s standing and warranted his arrest which was set to be handled less than 48 hours ago.”

“Was set to be...?” the lieutenant stressed the grammatical choice.

A potent silence drags out.

“...a simple task which the Fire Force leadership was not able to carry out,” Oguru butts in coldly, “instead allowing him to escape with his research and plans.”

“Hrm,” the Chief grumps, “probably into the Nether.”

Konro’s mind blanks out for a second, not even able to think of curses strong enough for what he knows will happen.

... �� Reader ...

Your body has betrayed you, allowing you to dose off after hours of hyper-vigilance, and so it comes as a shock when the door is wrenched open to allow an oddly dressed girl to enter the room – a baggy, white onesie that somehow doesn’t manage to make her appear anywhere near decent is topped by a crown that has slid past the forehead.

“Awww! You didna wike what we gave you, huh?” she trills, an edge of insanity looming close in her voice, “well, don’t wowwy wittle girl! We won’t give you anymore.” The last sentence stands in sharp contrast, suddenly void of any emotion or caricatured childishness.

Rather than engage, you remain on the cot and only watch the cold mannerism disappear to make room for impatience. She’s insane! Whatever horrors you had concocted at night, growing up in fear of the many dangers a homeless girl could suffer, none has prepared you for this.

“Get up!” the girl orders.

She can only be a handful of year younger than you. Reminds me of a spoiled toddler. And just like a brat, the tantrum follows much too quickly and unleashes an electrical jolt that spans the distance and enter your body with a sharp pain before everything turns numb.

“Wha-...?”

Numb, but not limp. Your body moves as if invisible strings have been attached at every joint, forcing you to stumble past the grinning girl and into the dark corridor beyond. Fear claws at your lungs, causing bile to boil in the guts at every useless attempt of regaining control.

“Don’t fight it, pwetty girl,” the giggle torments, “you belong to us now.”

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years ago

Text

Blighted

For my precious Sunshine, @5-secondsofcolor's birthday!! Which is technically now, because it is 1 AM on the 20th of May and I am a mad woman. Love you and I hope you have an amazing day, when you see this of course.

Here is your fic, FBI/Behavior Analyst!Calum. Female OC.

Ivy says she's cursed after taking the same career path that took her father's life. Calum's new on the team, a liaison and media specialist, but he's looking to get his toes wet.

AKA your regular old jaded pessimist veteran and bright eyed rookie buddy cop story. Please enjoy!

CW: In depth descriptions of death/crime scenes. Depictions of violence, gore, and blood.

Enjoy my masterlist (on a haitus)

Search for more writing in the h writes tag

________________________

The whiteboard never leaves. It glows behind her closed eyelids. When staring down at the neck of a bottle, she sees it floating just as the bottom of her drink. She’s cursed. But she knew that the moment she tried out for the academy. The second the thought floated across her mind, she would be doomed just like her father. Ivy tried her best to reroute herself--she got into the arts, was first chair flute in her highschool’s orchestra. She was president of the Homecoming committees her junior and senior year, and worked during the summers at her church's camp.

And yet when she went into school for her degree, she gravitated towards psychology and criminal justice. She saw her mother’s fear. The closer it came to graduation and the more the two of them talked about what she would do after graduating, the more the thought lingered, I want to get into the Bureau like Dad. But she couldn’t utter that. She couldn’t say those words without tears welling up in her mother’s eyes.

Ivy suspected her mother always knew about the desires. Ivy didn’t remember all the nights clearly, but sometimes she’d peek out her bedroom door and see the glow of the light downstairs. Ivy followed it, side stepping the creaky fourth step from the top and from between the banister’s she’d find her dad sitting at the dining room table. The kitchen light glowed from behind him and his tie would barely hang on around his neck.

“Boo,” he’d say quietly, knowing the slight shuffle of Ivy’s feet.

“How’d you know I was there, Daddy?” she’d ask, carrying herself the rest of the way down the stairs and make her way through the living room to climb into his lap.

“I can hear your feet above me,” he’d respond, pointing above them.

And they’d spend an hour, sitting at the dining room table. Ivy asked about her dad’s latest trip. He only ever told her when she was young that they were helping save people, putting bad people away. Ivy wonders if this is where it started. If this was where her father casted the spell, leaving Ivy somehow starry eyed about what it really was he did. Ivy would always look at this job with a little bit of that hope that her younger self had, and she’d always be fucked to never be able to walk away from this line of work.

It would kill her--much like it had killed her dad. But unlike him, she’d see the bullet spiral out of the barrel. Her dad had her and her mother to get back too. It wasn’t a weakness. Ivy admired her father for sticking with his dreams and also making the hard calls to make sure his family knew he cared too. But the need to decide would always be a slight hindrance, would always be the key to living or dying in this line of work.

All that’s left of her father, besides the memories and a few of his old t-shirts that got remade into pillows, is the whiteboard she keeps at her desk. There’s a whiteboard for the entire team to use of course. But this whiteboard is the one that her father used in his office. The one where he made his notes, scribbles. The one she’d write notes to him in the bottom left corner that never disappeared until she wanted to replace the note with something new.

“Thomas, look alive, and enjoy.” The manilla folder hits her desk with a quiet thwack. Ivy blinks from the whiteboard up to her senior officer. Kennedy carries on, dropping folders on every desk and each one of them stands without needing any further prompting.

Kennedy’s been in the field for years. It was all over his face with the deep frown lines. His brow seemed permanently furrowed, as if he questioned every waking second. Ivy liked to tease he worried even about sleep. But no one could sink a decade and a half into this line of work and not come out on the other side with a healthy amount of suspicion.

“And where’s this new guy?” Kennedy asks, glancing over the office.

Ivy looks up from her copy of the file. She heard rumors of someone else coming by the office, assisting them occasionally on cases. But those rumors floated around weeks ago, long enough that she chalked it up to just that--rumors. It doesn’t shock her though. Things start at rumors often, and sometimes they come to fruition and sometimes they don’t. Ivy follows Kennedy’s eyeline and doesn’t spy any new faces.

“Want me to keep an eye out for any lost souls?” Ivy offers, glancing back up to Kennedy.

“Nah, I need your eyes on this one. Head up to the conference room and I’ll be there once he shows up.”

With a nod, Ivy closes the file. She swipes the whiteboard from her desk with a couple markers and heads up to the conference room. The rest of the team sat flipping through their files too, Jenkins sitting right near the front but moved down one seat. They’re not new, having been around for a couple years. But Ivy can tell their type--getting in chummy with the boss, trying too hard. They’re a good addition, but Ivy’s waiting for the day they take a hunch and it doesn’t lead to the results they want. A loss will show their true colors, how well they can handle being wrong sometimes. No one on the team is perfect, they’re all hedging bets. Ivy’s taken her lumps of hunches being made too late, or the wrong bets placed. They’re not often. No one likes them. But they happen.

Diaz, Russell, and Burke and scattered throughout the rest of the table. The three of them have been there longer than Ivy. But they all accepted her with open arms. Diaz and Burke were more muscular. They had the brains to match, but they came up the pipeline from their local PD departments and aren’t afraid to get into a tussle. More often than not, Ivy winds up pulling Burke from fights than she’d care to admit. Diaz’s much too big for Ivy to attempt physically restraining, so she referee’s those fights that he gets into.

Russell’s their man behind the screen. He was good at getting through the internet loops, figuring out how to sort databases for the information they need without so much red tape and delay. He preferred to stay behind the lines, but could handle a tussle. Ivy doesn’t count herself as the brains. But her gut had some sort of true north needle that, more often than not, was right. She could see patterns faster than most, could sniff the air after someone and assess how much she could and wanted to trust. Kennedy consulted her often. Whenever she felt like she had something, he’d hush the crowd for her to formulate the full thought. Kennedy didn’t always agree with her assessment, but had to listen to it. He needed to listen to it.

“Nope,” Russell huffs, shutting the folder. “Fucking hell. Kennedy told me it was rough, but I didn’t--I didn’t think it was this rough.”

Ivy settles in next to him sliding him a marker. She draws roughly a tic-tac-toe board. “It not getting easier for you is a good sign.”

Russell makes his first move, the marker squeaking just a little. Ivy follows up with hers. She knows if she makes it too obvious, too easy, Russell will forfeit the game. So she tries to play along, like she’s vying to win.

Russell places his second X though his hands shake just a hair. “Yeah, but compared to you guys, I feel like if someone took a gnarly enough shit it would make me queasy.”

“A bad enough shit could do that to anyone,” Diaz pipes in, his own folder still open but his forearms pressed down over the photographs. Russell’s been around the block, definitely seem some rough things, but has always had a softer view of the world. Still wants it to be good despite all the bad he’s seen.

Ivy places down her second O, noticing the pretty obvious wide open spot she left Russell but looks up to Diaz. “I think I heard through the grapevine you were on the losing end of one of those shits yesterday,” she teases.

Diaz reclines into his seat, his chest bouncing with his laughter. “All because of your cooking Thomas.”

“My cooking is not that bad,” she defends, the cap of her black marker pointing him out.

Burke snickers too with a shake of her head and opens her mouth to speak but the room fills with the voice of Kennedy. “Aren’t y’all old enough to be left alone not to talk about shit for five minutes?”

“Never too old to talk shit, sir,” Diaz returns, his smile lifting only half his face up. He’s a charmer, whenever they go out to bars out manage to get a moment’s peace not hounded by work, he never seems to be at a lack of folks coming up to him. He’s already got a girl, but with the hair that cascades always neatly placed and the dazzling bright grin, anyone could fall for it.

Kennedy huffs his laughter quickly and then shuffles deeper into the room. “We’ve got a new friend, so let’s play nice.” As Kennedy makes head way, Ivy notices the man behind him. He’s tall. The black dress pants and black dress shirt don’t hide everything beneath them, but Ivy’s not too shocked to see people who work in the field like that with some sort of muscular physique. There’s something about his face though--something about the way his brown eyes dart around the room and his smile never shows any teeth that something familiar tugs at her.

Kennedy goes around the table introducing Ivy first, then going to Russell, coming down to Jenkins, Diaz, and then Burke. Each one of them lifts a hand or nods at their name. “This here is Hood, Calum Hood. Joining us as a new liaison.”

Ivy’s no good with faces sometimes. But names she hardly ever forgets. Hood, she met him once a few years back at a lecture. Not that she did them often, but Kennedy got more face time. But he made sure to spread the love between the team. He asked her to tag along. Calum must’ve been in the crowd, had to be, and had to have asked a question because Kennedy told her to remember that name. And she had.

Kennedy continues on with something. Ivy suspects he’s warning Diaz to keep any hazy tactics to a minimum considering how much of a mess they’re walking into. Ivy nods once more at him, and then faces back to the whiteboard, the tap on her arm prompting her too. I’m a scaredy cat sure, but not dumb, it reads in Russell’s handwriting. She spies his X in the bottom corner, opposite of where he would’ve won.

“Pull up a seat, Hood. We’ll have more time for pleasantries once we’re up in the air. But I want everyone to at least be familiar with this case.”

“Yes, sir.” His voice is smooth, Ivy notes. A soft volume and accented but smoother than she would’ve pegged.

The team breaks down the file, recapping mostly what they’ve already read but Kennedy’s old fashioned this way, needing to make sure people have done their homework. It’s an extra step than completely necessary, but having the quick meetings has always made this team feel more like a second family. There’s always a common goal in mind for them and they’re always reminded of it. No matter what happens out in the field, they all want the same thing.

“We soar in forty-five minutes. So let’s hope wheels can turn in the air. Hood, I need you to keep in mind the local PD’s been taking a lot of heat for the last couple of months. So we don’t want to take too much star power, we’re only here to assist and whatever we can do to put the local’s good grace back onto that PD we need to.”

Not quite what she expected, though with his demeanor and looks, he’s sure to work a crowd or newsroom well. She’s sure he’ll be on the ground with them too.

“Understood,” he replies and with that, all of them push away from the table. “Agent Thomas,” Hood says, reaching out almost as if to touch her elbow but never actually do it. He continues to speak once she looks over to him. “I-I don’t know if you remember. But we met at a lecture a couple years back that you held with Agent Kennedy. And I just wanted to say that I’m excited to be here, working with you all.”

“Thomas, here, does not respond well to flattery. Trust, we’ve all tried,” Diaz laughs, clamping down on Hood’s shoulders.

“I appreciate it,” Ivy responds. “Glad to have a fresh mind on the team.” There’s no smile, at least, not one she’d give Russell, Burke, Diaz, or even Jenkins. But Calum watches her give another curt nod with a quick quirk of her lips, and then leave, stacking her file on top of the whiteboard.

“Don’t sweat it. She’s in work mode,” Diaz assures. “We get off the clock and she’s a hoot. But on the clock, it’s strictly business. I will warn you, Thomas will burn you.”

Calum’s left, watching Diaz, Burke, and Russell leave. Jenkins turned tail the second Kennedy got done. It’s not that he wants to mix business with pleasure. He’s just been studying Thomas, attending as many lectures that she gives as he can. She didn’t always go directly by the book, there was something about her method that used the evidence, used science, but also had some sort of intuition. Thomas just knew things and when attempting to quantify it, she didn’t always have the words for it. Calum just wants to see that in action, understand what it is about knowing that isn’t always present in the facts.

The plane ride is comfortable. Plenty of seats even though they squeak just a little. Calum watches Thomas sit and everyone seems to sit spread out from there, keeping her at some sort of center. “Mobile. They don’t mind the hustle,” Ivy starts.

“Crossing state lines is risky, especially after the escalation,” Burke interjects.

“But wouldn’t that be a reason for it? If all the crimes look different, enough crossing state lines might make the unsub feel confident, like they’re getting away with something.” The entire plane turns to look at him. Calum freezes for a moment. He knows better. He knows so much better than that. Fuck.

“Valid. But we shouldn’t settle. Travel might be part of their job. We’ve got a good cluster to possibly estimate a home base. Get comfortable, perfect the craft here and then spread out. But why come back? Local PD's hadn't quite connected anything, until the return. More families, found exactly the same. Even when they cross state lines, all points wind back to a specific geographical location,” Burke returns.

“Hood, you got the inside of the media. What does it look like?”

Thirty minutes of his forty five was making sure that he could at least nail down this run through. And it’s easy, even with the squeak of Ivy’s dry erase marker, to run down the media reports, what information has been released and what hasn’t been released. He makes note of what the team doesn’t want to get out and what they do want to keep available to the public.

All the while, Calum watches the way Ivy writes over her board, the squeak over and over on specific strokes. He wonders for a moment what she’s writing, what it is that she needs to keep written track of. But he doesn’t get a chance to fully flesh out that thought before he finishes his spill and Diaz cuts in. They’re fast, not quite settling on any one theory. More like compiling the possibilities, not wanting to eliminate things but ranking how plausible they all could be until the pieces click.

The first thing after the flight lands, they head for the precinct. The lead investigator greets them, and there’s no pause. They’re pulled into the frenzy, looking at boards. Calum tries to keep his head in the game, but he is watching Ivy. The way she settles in her chair, her marker always moving. He’s not even sure it’s words anymore, just a constant circular movement. Sure he’s here to help regulate media outlets, and he can do that in his sleep if local PD and media follow his instructions to a T.

But he needs an in, to show he’s more than just the new meat on the chopping block. He’s worth something. “Is the last crime scene still available?” Calum asks.

The room turns to him, well most of the room does. Ivy keeps circling, but she speaks. “The plan’s to go in ten minutes. Whatever’s got you preoccupied, leave it in your go bag.”

Kennedy chuckles, tapping at her foot. “Give the kid a break. He was buried in news coverage the second we got into the door. But Hood, shake the cobwebs. This isn’t your small town’s rodeo anymore. If you need to be caught up, ask. But if you’re going to be in the room, keep those ears open.”

A task easier said than done, but he nods, resting his elbows on his knees. God, they’re going to think I’m an idiot. The room goes back to its normal buzz, but Calum keeps his head buried in his hands.

“Talk to me. What are your theories?”

Calum lifts his head. Ivy’s closer now. He can see the black marks on her hand from where she’s held it up against the swirls and lettering. “Clearly I’m barely treading water here.”

“First day nerves, but you can shake it. You wanted to see the crime scene. Why?”

“Why there? We have indications that the unsub spent a lot of time there, even with the interruptions they've seemed to caused. They're still meticulous. I want to follow their steps. What did they do first? And why? What do they need from a crime scene before it’s done?”

“Good. But what else?”

“What-what do you mean what else?”

She smiles, much different than the first one. It shows her teeth, a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. “What else?”

He goes quiet, reclines back into the seat and closes his eyes for a second. What else? There’s a lot else. “I mean, the next obvious thing is why these victims? But besides that, how comfortable is this person? Do they feel a need to be rushed, fast, get-in-get-out or can they blend in? I have a hunch they can blend in. Maybe people even trust them. They are perfectly ordinary and in essence, they have to be in order for the fantasy to work. Detection means they have to get sloppy. Being sloppy’s not an option, so blending in it is.”

“Bring that to the crime scene.” Something taps his knee and Calum cracks open his eyes to see her, standing. Her whiteboard still gently rests against his knee. She’s not looking at him though. Her gaze is locked onto the board next to him, displaying the crime scene photos.

“What’s your secret?” Calum asks. He’s almost positive she didn’t hear him due to Ivy’s lack of prompt response. But then she turns to him.

“Secret?”

“Thomas, Hood, you comin’ or what?” Kennedy calls. “I can deal without Diaz, but I need you, Thomas.”

“I’ll remember that,” Diaz laughs as they walk through the glass doors of the precinct.

It’s not Calum’s first time at a crime scene. But the second Calum steps through the door a chill runs through him. The carpet and walls are still bloodstained. Everything about it the scene just feels wrong, makes Calum want to immediately step back out of the house.

“You feel that?” Burke asks. She continues on deeper into the house, slipping into her gloves.

“This is when Thomas says she’s too Black for all this and gets the hell out of dodge,” Diaz barks. He squats down to the blood on the carpet. Ivy’s already deep into the house, seemingly guided by a force unwillingly to let her go. She doesn’t respond verbally, just lifts her hand, the middle finger extended out in the general direction of Diaz.

And Calum is standing near the threshold of the door, trying to pinpoint why it feels so cold in a house in Texas in the middle of the summer. His hands feel sticky even inside the latex gloves. His first step is shaky but he stops next to Diaz. “There are drag marks from the blood,” Calum notes. “This isn’t where they were killed, just staged.”

“The unsub staged all the victims here in the living room. We know that. Pictures show the parents at the ends of the sofa, children in the middle, dog on the floor.”

“But there’s blood on the walls. We know the Dad’s 6’1,” Calum returns.

“And we don’t have forced entry. So, whoever is wreaking havoc isn’t threatening enough for someone not to answer the door.”

Calum turns to the sofa where the family was found. “It’s picturesque, poetic even. You’ve got a whole family right here, at your will. They knock on the door. It’s dusk, sun’s just starting to set.”

“They have a ruse that gets them inside. We already know they have to blend in with the community. So what can you use to get into a house? Who gets into a house without a problem?”

Diaz goes into the kitchen where in the case file it mentions when the family was finally discovered food was still out on the table. “The window doesn’t have to last long. But it has to be just right. All three families were either eating dinner, or just done with dinner. So why dinner time?” Diaz turns from the stove to face Calum.

“It’s when everyone is together. They’re not just going after a family, but very specific family dynamics. Which means both parents need to present, two kids seems to be a minimum.”

“What’s the average dinner time you’d say? With this job, I eat whenever I fucking can. But before this, excluding people like us, when is the average person sitting down to eat?”

“6, 6:30 I’d guess. That’s assuming the average person is working a job that calls it at 5PM. A town like this is either on the verge of collapsing or being bought out. So I assume a lot of people are traveling outside to the city for work, so the commute might be even later. But I wouldn’t hazard any guesses that our unsub’s just haphazardly picking houses.”

“No, no, you’re right, Hood,” Diaz states, walking over to the table. “I guess what I’m saying is the timing. No one hears anything. But our unsub’s using a gun. That’s not quiet. And there’s not a lot of city noise this far out. They’re spending hours in the house and somehow getting out undetected. But striking at dinner time, with the setting sun, means this person’s around outside the house. But no one’s noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

“Hunting seasons,” Calum returns. “No one really flinches at the sound of a gun shot because people are hunting year ‘round here.”

“And it seems like humans are on the menu.”

“An appetizing thought.”

******

Ivy’s not sure when the chill finally left over the course of the day but it returns when she walks into the precinct and sees the entire room in a frenzy. Kennedy spies her and it’s just a look. Not much different than his resting face, but somehow she knows with that slight arch in his eyebrow. Another family--while they were proding over photos the killer was already moving on, already in the midst of their attack.

And it shouldn’t shock her. Well, to be more accurate, it doesn’t shock her and maybe that’s the thing that scares her. “I’ve been doing this too damned long,” she mutters to herself. “Hood, you’re with me. Get the address and let’s see what that gut of yours cooks up.”

“How’d--Is Kennedy going to be okay with that? The call just came in a few minutes ago.”

“Get the address and tell me how you like your coffee,” Ivy says. Kennedy’s going to come to the scene anyway, but she doesn’t tell Calum that.

There’s not another word before Calum passes in front of her. “Cream and two sugars,” he answers as he goes.

“So Black, got it.”

Paused at the desk of a detective, he looks over his shoulder. “Cream and two sugars,” he re-emphasizes with a tiny smile and holding up two fingers. Police station coffee’s never the best, but it’s better than nothing. When on a case, time is also imperative and they take what they can. Ivy fixes Calum’s cup first, slipping a lid on and keeping the stirrer through the hole. She pours her cup with no additions.

“Not even creamer? Not one?” Calum questions.

“Takes too much time,” she returns. “Burke, you staying?”

“Yeah, Russell got those files over just before the call came in. Besides that crime scene’s bound to be crowded as all hell and I swear if I walk into another house and catch a chill after seven years of doing this job, I just might quit.”

The two ladies laugh. Ivy recovering first to respond, “I need you to keep me sane even though you’re just as much trouble as Diaz.”

“Which is why I’m going to say here, work with Russell. We’re going to need Hood back before the 5’oclock news. Whatever you find at the scene will help solidify our profile and we need it soon. We need the hands on this clock, because it’s ticking ahead of us.”

Ivy nods. It’s no fun being behind. “Kennedy, we’re moving or we’re dying.”

“I trust you. There’s something off about that last one that I want to walk through again.”

“Let’s rock and roll,” she says to Calum, handing him his cup of coffee. “Mr. Cream-and-Two-Sugars.”

The drive is relatively short, all thanks to Ivy’s lead foot. But they need to get there fast, while things are still fresh.

“Did you always want to do this?” Calum asks in the silence of their drive. The radio doesn’t even play. Ivy knew he had questions. He wore them on his face, brows furrowing anytime he was the slightest bit hesitant about something.

“I don’t think I had a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t have a choice? We’ve all got choices.”

“My dad worked with the FBI until it killed him. And I think about how he used to tell me it was his job to help put bad people in jail. And I believed him.”

“The bug bit you before you even had a fighting chance.”

Ivy nods, taking a quick glance to Calum. “But if I had a prettier face, I’d stick with liaison too.”

Calum huffs out his laughter. “I went the journalism route first, sue me. Besides, that’s you admitting you think I have a pretty face.”

“I forget faces—so don’t think too highly of it. And I’m probably old enough to be your mother. You attended some lectures, I remembered your name. How’d you convert?”

It’s silent for a moment and Calum contemplates her statement, old enough to be his mother. “Given that my mother has shared her fountain of youth with my sister and I, you might be shocked to know I’m nearing 30. And I converted because of you and your work under Kennedy and his old superior Rogers.”

“All the greats,” Ivy teases, but she doesn't sound impressed. More like tired, used to it.

“But you’re different.”

“Yeah, because somehow the Bureau hasn’t realized their mistake.”

“Mistake?” Calum asks around his sip of coffee.

“Kennedy’s going to retire soon. He's done 15 with our unit. Another ten prior to that climbing through the ranks. Then they’re going to have to find a replacement.”

“You say that like it won’t be you.”

“Because it won’t.”

“You’ve been with Kennedy for so long. He’s obviously going to recommend you, Ivy.”

“He can recommend but people higher up get the final word.”

The truck stops just in front of the house, and Calum knows the most logical thing to do is just focus on the case, walk the scene. Do his job. But he reaches across the console and wraps his fingers around hers for a second with a squeeze. “You’ll get it. They’d be dumb not to bring you to the head of this team.”

“There’s an altar or a shrine. It’s small.”

Calum pauses with his hand on the door. Ivy continues beside him. “Go to the eldest child’s bedroom. In a corner you’ll see the small shrine. Our unsub left one at the last house. And the house before, I’d bet. And this house too. That’s what Kennedy missed. What other cops missed too. Make sure you get it photographed. Besides, I’ve been doing this job too long and don’t know if I’d even want the added responsibility if they promoted me.”

“How’d we miss that?”

“We didn’t miss shit. We saw it when we needed to see it. We see things when we need them.” It's the way she says it, like she has to believe that makes Calum believe too.

The sight rocks Calum--he knew it wouldn’t be easy. But he didn’t know it’d hit him like this. The room spins, just a little. And his heart racing. Mostly because he can’t stand the thought that this could be someone he knows. These people weren’t anticipating their would be like this. And what does that even mean for him? What does his end look like?

“Hey, whoa. Whoa.” An arm comes around his waist and he follows the lead of whomever’s grabbed him.

“I’m okay,” he breathes out. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, I’m a fudge brownie. It’s okay to not be alright in there.”

Calum rests against the side of the house and squats down just a little. His elbows hit his knees. His breath is heavy, falls from his open mouth almost like he’s going to vomit. But his stomach’s not churning anymore. Not with the fresh morning air hitting his lungs. “Fuck,” he breathes out again, eyes blurring just a little.

“But you’re okay. Take a breather.” Ivy’s shoes turn up in the dirt. "Get him a water, will ya? Hood, take a minute. It's alright. I'll be inside when you're ready." Calum just watches her go. It takes a moment for him to lift his head. It has to get easier. Or least he hopes it does. It takes him a minute, inhaling deeply before he stands up straight.

The rest of them processing the scene goes by in relative silence. Occasionally, Calum pipes in with an addition to their theory. Ivy hums in agreement. And it’s not until they step out and slip out of their gloves that Ivy says anything. “This is why I drink my coffee black.”

“I’m sorry. I really--I don’t know why this one got me.”

“It’s the kids. Kids are the worst.”

Calum looks up to the sky. There’s a few clouds, but not many. “The photos are bad, but in person is way different.”

Ivy watches Calum, the way it takes him a second to come back to earth it seems. “Don’t ask yourself if it gets easier.” When his gaze lands hers, she can see the furrowed brow again. The question drips off his face. “You’ll only disappoint yourself. And this job’s not for the weak of heart. For the people that can’t take some losses with the wins.”

“You said it yourself. You wanted to put the bad people away.”

“Eight year old me wants to believe it’s as easy as putting the monsters away. Thirty-one year old me knows for a fact what the losses are, who gets caught in the cross-fire. It’s not easy, not in the slightest.”

“Innocent lives do add up.”

“Which is why I try not to do math on the job. They all slip up. They all reach a point where their methods don’t satiate the need. They all make a fatal flaw and counting the unfortunate lives on the way to that will have you walking from the Bureau faster than you can blink.”

“So what makes you stay? If it’s all so fucking bad, what keeps you going?”

Ivy nods to the car, pulling the keys from her pocket. “We need to solidify our profile and you need to run press ASAP. But to answer your question, the thing that keeps me going is that fact that they do get caught eventually.”

******

Eventually seems to come up faster than Calum anticipates. He was sure it would take weeks. After getting back to the precinct more information in Russell’s digging found a connection between all the families, a Venn diagram that overlapped to their X on the map. Another couple of days and it all unravelled. It’s a blur, when he tries to think back to it, on the plane. The only grounding thing is when one of the children, a little girl about 6, pointed out the tattoos on his hands. In all this time, he was sure the tattoos would be a barrier to entry--they’d somehow put him in a place that others would think he was nothing but trouble. But somehow, despite the terror she had done through, that little girl liked his tattoos, found some sort of comfort in them.

When he told her they were for his parents, she smiled at him. She said she wanted one for her parents too and then asked if he had anymore and how old he was when he got them. All of which Calum was more than happy to answer while the medic checked over her. Her older brother came soon after, asking a few questions, but overall he was much quieter than his sister. Understandable for what was endured. In the end, Calum’s just glad he didn’t see them staged on a couch, bleeding out onto the cushions.

There’s a small bit of turbulence and the shakes cause Calum to open his eyes for a moment. Ivy’s seated across from him, whiteboard on her lap, headphones in her ears. A tic-tac-toe grid drawn across it in the middle, but in the corners are some swirls, a crude drawing of the shrine from the case. Calum leans forward and tugs on the board just a little. She lets it go without a fight and hands over the marker.

Calum makes an ‘X’ in the top left. “You said this job doesn’t get easier.” He looks up to see if Ivy can hear him and is relieved when she pops out one her headphones. She raises her brows like she wants him to continue with the thought. And Calum’s not even sure he should. Instead, he hands over the board back to her. If seeing death doesn’t get easier, then maybe it just means he gets better at it. Maybe it means that not being okay with death is a good motivator to keep down this path.

“The job doesn’t get easier. You’re still human. You still want a spouse and a kid. You might want two dogs and a cat. You might want that white picket fence one day. You’ll want to close your eyes and not see death. You’ll want to walk down the street and see humans as humans again. You’ll have nightmares. Don’t hide from it. Nothing’s wrong with you for wanting that. But we’re in a world now where we see the horrors--what’s on the other side of everything you wanted. It’s a liminal space and it’s heavy to wade through.”

“I just want to not freak like I did the other day. It’s not easy. But sometimes I fear that maybe I bit off more than I could chew.”

Their game of tic-tac-toe has been forgotten, placed in the seat next to Ivy as she leans forward in her seat. “You said you were converted because of me. What exactly about me was it?”

“You just know things. When you walk onto a scene, you have an air of knowing. How can you just pick up on it in a snap?”

“Well,” Ivy laughs, “if that’s the only reason you want in, I warn you to get out.”

“I want to help. I want to save people,” Calum adds on. But then it hits him. Maybe this wasn’t the business of saving people as much as it was stopping people. Sure, they prevent future murders, but that didn’t always negate for all the lives lost. But they did save that family today. He saved that little girl that wants tattoos like his. “I want to save people and I want to stop people as well,” he finally adds on.

“There will always be monsters in this world,” Ivy warns.

“And there will always be heroes.”

“Make no mistake, Calum. We don’t have capes. We don’t swoop in all the time at just the right moment. Sometimes we are late. Sometimes we’re reacting more than we are being proactive. Sometimes we fuck up.”

His heart stops for just a moment at the mention of his first name. He’s always Hood, or at least has always been Hood. Just like she’s always Thomas to the team. But she said his first name. Unmistakably so. “Did-did you just use my first name?”

“You used my first name, first.”

When had he done that? He didn’t recall, but he couldn’t combat it either.

“Look,” Ivy continues, “the fact remains. We will fail. We will make the wrong call, or the right call just by the skin of our teeth. We will walk down the wrong direction only to figure out, we know it’s the wrong one. We get it right. A lot more often, we get it right and we minimize the death count. But we’re human--you don’t have to take it on if you don’t want. You don’t have to suffer.”

“If I don’t suffer and win, then that little girl suffers and loses. Then the next person loses. And the next. Their suffering or mine--the choice is clear.”

Ivy studies Calum for a moment. She sees the resolve on his face. Just how much sacrificing himself is a no brainer for him. It was a no brainer for her too. But admittedly, she was cursed. Maybe Calum wasn’t. Maybe she could save him, even if she couldn’t save herself. But she wasn’t in the business of saving people, only stopping them.

“I can’t stop you, can I?” she asks.

“Stop me from what?”

“Stop you from killing yourself with this job.”

“If it’s killing you, then why don’t you leave?” His head cocks to the side, now intrigued by her honesty.

“It’s like you said, I got bit before I could escape. I’m cursed. Are you?”

The little girl flashes through his vision again, and his chest tightens for a second before the relief kicks in. He could chase that feeling, the knowledge that he saved someone, one person. And that he helped put away one more person causing harm. “I am now. Ruined--because even though I can’t save them all. I can save some. I can help keep some people safe. I don’t think there’s a better reward than that.”

With a nod, Ivy looks back to their game on the whiteboard. They would’ve tied, she can see it after where she placed her ‘O’. But she hands it back over to Calum. “Kennedy’s going to shit himself when he realizes he’s got too hard heads on his team.”

“You’ll shit yourself when you realize you’re inheriting the second hard-head on the team after Kennedy leaves.”

Ivy scoffs. Of course, Calum still believes in the shiny idea that hard work yields rewards. “And this is where I can still tell you’re new to this--the dreams are still shiny and ideal.”

“All the work you’ve invested, they’d be--”

Ivy interrupts him. “I know, they’d be dumb not to.”

“Then why do you keep saying it won’t happen?”

“I’d call my pessimism a curse. But at this point, I think it’s a personality trait and the truth.”

“And let me guess, this is why you take your coffee black too.”

Ivy winks at him before her smile takes over her face. “You know it.”

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mfb-better-fury · 3 years ago

Text

Episode 1

Night

In an observatory, a boy is alerted to the new star fragment and searches for it through his telescope. Upon seeing it he becomes excited to have finally found it.

In an area of ruins, a hooded figure watches the star fragment fall and speaks to himself: “When a dazzling light shines brightly on the earth, from the heavens a new star fragment will arrive and awaken a great power.” He then calls to the star fragment to give that great power to “the black sun”.

As both watch, the star fragment splits into 13 pieces. One piece targets the observatory and hits the boy and his bey Mercury Anubius. He is knocked to the floor from the impact but quickly rises to his knees to ensure his bey’s safety.

As the other fragments fall, one piece makes its landing near the ruins. The hooded figure demands to know what’s going on then calls for Johannes, telling him to collect the scattered pieces. When Johannes disappears, the figure muses to himself that it is only a matter of time before “Nemesis” is revived.

Madoka has just finished the repairs on Galaxy Pegasus from the battle against Spiral Force when she watches a piece of the star fragment fly past her window. She assumes that she imagined it due to her exhaustion.

A woman with long blue hair is cleaning the parts of a bey when a piece of the star fragment comes in through the window, knocking her from her chair. It’s a struggle for her to get to her knees and look across the desk, but she finds the parts of the bey dimly sparkling. After the brief difficulty to get back in her seat, she picks up the parts to look at them closer, then sighs and decides it’s something to worry about in the morning. She reassembles the bey and uses a cane to get to her feet, then turns off the desk light. Storm Aquario is left gleaming in the darkness.

Next Day

At Bey Park, the semi-final round of a tournament is taking place, commentated by Blader DJ and Gingka. Kenta is battling.

Gingka continuously tries cheering for Kenta even though DJ keeps reminding him he must be neutral.

In the final battle, Kenta uses Flame Claw, raising Gingka's urge to battle. After the tournament, Kenta and Gingka head to the B-Pit, Kenta with his victory trophy. Madoka is asleep at her desk, but Pegasus' repairs are complete.

Madoka is awakened by Gingka's antics, and he thanks her fervently for her work.

With Pegasus repaired, Gingka and Kenta are eager to battle and run out, Madoka chasing after them. Immediately after exiting, a plunger arrow shoots down at them, prompting Gingka to push Kenta down. The arrow sticks to the B-Pit’s outside wall just as Madoka steps out.

Gingka finds a message tied to the arrow, challenging him to a battle. They head to the misty island mentioned in the letter.

Gingka, Kenta, and Madoka arrive at the coast of the misty island to find no one waiting for them, prompting Gingka's anger. Kenta and Madoka discuss the strangeness of Gingka being challenged right as Pegasus' repairs are complete.

A rowboat appears in the mist and the challenger is revealed to be Kyoya, rowed by Benkei. Kenta and Madoka express their lack of enthusiasm to seeing another battle between Gingka and Kyoya, causing Benkei to get riled up and then fall out of the boat.

Benkei reminds them that in Gingka and Kyoya's last battle during the World Championships the two tied. Kyoya is here to settle that score.

Kyoya jumps out of the boat and readies Leone. Gingka agrees to battle with him. Kyoya states that the entire island will be their battlefield.

Rock Leone VS Galaxy Pegasus begins

There’s an immediate burst of dust at initial contact. Gingka and Kyoya begin running along the island coast, causing their friends to make chase. Using Lion Gale Force Wall, Kyoya has Leone create a tornado of sand, which Benkei boasts about. Madoka uses her computer to gather an explanation they can understand.

The sand twister picks up Pegasus and hurls it against a nearby boulder, smashing the stone into rubble. Pegasus recovers at Gingka’s call, but Kyoya has Leone and its twister pick up the debris to hurl at its opponent. Madoka and Kenta call this out, but Benkei quiets them and Kyoya claims this is a battle to see who will survive.

Gingka is a little miffed at the realization that these tactics are why Kyoya picked the location he did. Kyoya declares this is the way of the lion’s hunt and the way of his strength. At this, Gingka can’t help but agree, knowing Kyoya’s ways and recalling their first battle.

Gingka then announces that he won’t let himself lose, and directs Pegasus straight for Leone and its tornado. Kyoya mocks this, but Gingka knows what he’s doing. When Pegasus is picked up by the wind this time, it crashes into a tree that topples over on top of Leone, instantly dispersing the sand twister. Madoka and Kenta cheer.

Kyoya initially gives brief props to Gingka, but Leone then breaks through the tree and frees itself. Seeing this Gingka decides to lead Kyoya into the forest for a change of environment. Coming across a gathering of tall boulders, Leone uses them to gain height and achieve a domino effect of knocking the flat-sided rocks forward with the intent of crushing Pegasus.

Madoka calls a frightened warning to Gingka, who in turn calls for Pegasus to ride the last boulder, slanted like a ramp, and jump. It evades the falling domino rocks and smashes into another boulder ahead, which shoots debris back toward Leone. Madoka, Benkei, and Kenta have more trouble avoiding this debris than Kyoya and Leone do.

As the beys continue clashing, Kenta complains the battle is getting out of hand. Madoka growls about having just finished repairing Pegasus.

More boulders are destroyed in the fight and Gingka commends Kyoya on his strength and the battle. Kyoya replies with a promise to settle things, which Gingka denies due to Pegasus’ attack-type strength giving him the advantage in a head-on battle. Gingka aims to prove this by having Pegasus loop around to hit Leone just as such rather than in a racing style. Leone is sent flying and lands in a lake of mud, though manages to stay above the surface.

Gingka calls for Pegasus’ Starbooster Attack, using two trees as walls to gain height and soar above. Pegasus’ spirit appears, making Kenta cheer. Madoka adds that Leone is stuck in the mud meaning it’s unable to use its own move in retaliation.

As Pegasus shoots down, Kyoya calls to Leone, which swirls up the mud in a tower to catch Pegasus’ attack. Benkei attempts to name this move but struggles, making Kenta comment to simply call them all “Lion Gale Force Wall”.

Both battlers urge on their beys, with Pegasus cutting through the tornado. However, when the light clears, Pegasus is now in the mud and Leone is nowhere to be seen. Kyoya calls their attention to the sky, where Leone now spins after riding its tornado. Benkei praises his friend.

Leone flips itself over and Kyoya calls for its King Lion Reverse Windstrike. He then taunts Gingka for his backfiring plan in changing their location and claims his only reason to grow stronger is to finally defeat him.

Gingka counters Kyoya’s words claiming that whenever Kyoya gets stronger, he’ll become stronger still, and that he and Pegasus are in agreement on this. Kyoya brushes this off and calls to his own bey, having it ride down the center of its reverse tornado to smash into Pegasus, yelling that this time he will defeat Gingka.

In this moment, Kyoya and Leone awaken their power. The resulting energy destroys the mud pond and leaves a crater in its wake as Leone evolves, and Pegasus plummets to the ground beside Gingka, landing on its side. Everyone is completely stunned.

Kenta questions Madoka as to when she added this feature and why she kept it a secret, but she denies having anything to do with it. Rather than cheering, Benkei suddenly quiets them, staring intently at Kyoya who has gone completely still.

Kyoya’s face holds a bewildered and somewhat haunted expression. He’s completely ignoring the still-spinning, transformed Leone, instead staring across the crater at the defeated Pegasus. “I...won…?”

An energy pulses across Kyoya and he grabs his head. His vision darkens until only he, Leone, and Pegasus are visible. Whispers start to echo around him and he mutters shaking denials, even before the words become clear. The voice is dark and harsh, ordering him over and over that his job isn’t done until Pegasus is destroyed.

In desperation, his eyes shut tight as he continues clutching his head, Kyoya cries Benkei’s name.

Benkei rushes to action, demanding Gingka not touch Pegasus as he runs across the crater to get to Kyoya. As Gingka wonders what’s going on, Madoka sees hints of dark energy flickering around Kyoya, making her think back to Tsubasa’s battles against the dark power during the World Championships. Realization hits and she cries out in alarm that Kyoya’s been hiding an infection from his battle with Ryuga this whole time, startling Kenta and causing Gingka great concern.

As Benkei gets closer to Kyoya, Leone reacts and moves to block his path. Deciding to shout from where he stands, Benkei calls encouragement to Kyoya, reminding him that he’s beaten this before and he can do it again. This only further worries the other three as they learn how oblivious they’ve been to Kyoya’s plight when Benkei seems to have known all along.

In Kyoya’s blacked-out vision, Benkei’s words are staticky like they’re coming through an old radio, but they are getting through. Slowly Kyoya starts getting a hold of himself and manages to open his eyes, hesitantly looking toward the fallen Pegasus. He doesn’t need to go further. The battle is over. It’s over and he needs to calm down, take a breath-

The whispers turn into a roar, drowning out Benkei’s voice and ordering Kyoya to attack. His strength falters, his eyes glowing red as he stares at Pegasus. The others see Kyoya lower his arms as the dark aura around him starts to grow. Benkei calls out to him, but goes quiet when he hears his friend speak as if in a trance: “Destroy...Pegasus…”

Leone responds, rushing around Benkei toward Gingka and the others. Gingka moves to grab his bey, but Benkei once again orders him not to touch it. Before Leone can make contact with Pegasus, Dark Bull slams into the motionless bey, sending it flying away from danger. Bull takes the hit from Leone head-on, and the explosion knocks Gingka, Kenta, and Madoka back due to their close proximity.

Benkei grits his teeth and holds his ground, ordering Bull to attack Leone in an attempt to divert Kyoya’s attention. Kyoya roars behind him, claiming that if he gets in the way he’ll be destroyed too. The dark aura now fully envelopes him. Madoka is frantically trying to collect data on the new Leone but comes up with nothing. With the way Bull is being pushed back, Kenta realizes Leone isn’t behaving like a defense-type bey at all.

Benkei refuses to surrender, leading the battle away from Gingka and the others and calling Kyoya’s name. There is no reaction.

As Leone mercilessly attacks Bull, Benkei calls out again, this time telling Kyoya to remember Battle Bladers, to remember how they were hurt during it because of the Dark Nebula and Lightning L-Drago. Benkei demands to know if that’s what Kyoya wants to happen again, and if he wants to be responsible for repeating it – responsible for hurting his friends. Benkei asks Kyoya if he intends to hurt the people he’s been trying to protect all this time.

In the darkness, Kyoya jolts. Fuzzy memories of Battle Bladers dance around him – Reiji’s battles against Hyoma, Kenta, and Gingka. Yu showing up severely injured due to his own battle against him. Ryuga’s battles against Hikaru and Tsubasa. Ryuga’s battle against him.

Beyond the voice controlling him, Kyoya begins to hear others. Benkei’s first, encouraging him, promising that he won’t tell anyone and he’ll stay by his side. Nile’s comes next, chastising Kyoya for being stupid enough not to tell them about this; Demure’s voice chimes in with concern and asking what they can do to help.

Then, Kyoya’s own voice: “I know how to stop this. But I can’t do it by staying here.”

Tsubasa answers: “Whatever happens, we have each other, right?”

Hikaru adds: “Maybe I can’t be out there battling with you guys right now...but I’m with you no matter what.”

Kyoya slowly clenches his firsts, his breathing becoming strained. “I...won’t…”

In the battle, Leone’s attacks against Bull start to lose power and speed. Kyoya begins to growl, catching everyone’s attention. He grabs his head again, but this time the dark aura appears to be shrinking, bright green taking its place. Benkei immediately starts calling to him again, affirming his belief that Kyoya can pull out of it. Though scared and still not certain of the entire situation, Kenta and Madoka do the same. Gingka is silent, watching the events fearfully.

With a roar echoed by Leone’s spirit as it appears in a sudden storm of wind around them, Kyoya breaks free from the dark power’s grip. Both the aura and the glow to his eyes are fully replaced by blazing green. In response his bey shoots away from Bull, driving itself into the forest leaving destruction in its wake until at last becoming trapped within a boulder and ceasing its spin.

Calling back Bull, Benkei rushes to Kyoya’s side with the others close behind. Kyoya is unsteady on his feet when they reach him. He tries to turn to Gingka, but his vision doubles and he falls against Benkei due to sudden dizziness. He manages to get two words out: “I’m...sorry…” before losing consciousness. Benkei fixes his hold on Kyoya, promising that it’s alright and that everyone is safe. Madoka and Kenta decide to go off to search for Leone.

Gingka stares at Kyoya for several seconds before turning around to look back at Pegasus, still resting where Bull had knocked it back to protect it from Leone’s attack.

The boy from the observatory has arrived at a harbor and is in a great hurry to find Gingka. Unknown to him, Johannes is on his tail.

#Better Fury #Better Fury episode #BF Star Fragment #Johannes #Gingka Hagane #Kenta Yumiya #Madoka Amano #Benkei Hanawa #Kyoya Tategami

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voidtekarc · 3 years ago

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Old Friends - Part II

It was a week since the ceruleum facility was destroyed. Arcuris spent a good portion of money that he left tending to the wounded and those who lost family in the incident. He chalked it up to an accident which destroyed it. After everything was sorted out, he disappeared. There were no goodbyes.

He failed them he has failed the Fullers. His personal history reared It's hateful head and lashed out at anyone that might have been associated with him. He did not meet with the families of those who were slain in the disaster. He knew what the result would be and it was deserved. He'd sooner just cut out all of the grief that awaited him at every waking moment.

Considering that Tallian had sent Sevata after him, and Sevata found where he made his money, there was a good chance they were zeroing in on where his hideout was. Arcuris repaired all of his equipment, created custom and deadly ammunition, and set up as much defenses as he possible could. When they would arrive would be another story. He needed to make sure he was ready for whatever they might bring against him.

Arcuris's eyes shot open as the entire facility was blaring an alarm triggered by the perimeter. Someone or something was inside of it. Arcuris knew exactly who it was and stood up, raising up the rifle that was sitting in his lap while he slept. He pulled back the charging handle to cycle a round into the chamber.

There were a few magitek cameras set throughout the facility and Arcuris used these to track down any intruders that may enter. It was not until now that anyone was able to get in. They would have known the codes to get in or have other conventional ways of getting through the door. Arcuris looked on the camera to see no less than four figures who were spread out walking down the hallways one after the other. He knew who they were but he looked again just to make sure of it. Commander Tallian Pyr Lucalla, Cassius Tyraxus, Umbrianus Venator, and even Sevata Verula.

"Just a little further, assholes." Arcuris muttered to himself.

Then the four came to the main hanger that was before housed with all of the equipment and magitek prototypes Arcuris was working on. Now it was empty, or so it would seem. As the four investigated the eerily empty room, the camera showed that a multitude of defensive weapons revealed themselves along the walls, ceiling, and floor and started to blast at them. They all took cover and returned fire at all of the emplacements before dozens of small hunter killer magitek walkers scrambled assist the defenses.

Seeing that his old colleagues were too busy dealing with his traps, he went to enact another part of his plan. He made his way to the main control room of the entire facility, peering over all of the safety protocols and measures that kept the main generator in check. He started to turn off all of the safety switches and disabling the main ceruleum power plant. He disabled any safety alarms, lights, or noises to keep his sabotage hidden from his attackers.

"Where is that bastard?!" Umbrianas roared as they dealt with every single trap he had set for the four of them. They used up quite a bit of equipment and ammunition while sustaining sizable wounds. Umbrianas himself was shot a few times and even stabbed by some of the hunter killers. The others, save for Tallian, suffered similar wounds.

"Dishonorable combatant. I'd expect no less from a traitor." Cassius continued as the group kept moving up the facility, sweeping the entire place while still finding traps.

"He set these everywhere? Fucker!" Sevata snarled as another weapon fired off and tore into her side. She stumbled about before the wound sealed slowly, "I'm going to tear his head off when I find him."

"You will do no such thing. If you find him you will contact Cassius and I. We will search more down here and you two will search above. He is here somewhere here and we will find him." Even though Tallian was in the heat of fighting, he appeared to take no damage from any of it. His skill in combat far surpassed any of them.

After ten minutes of slogging through the facility before reaching the top of the facility where an airship landing pad greeted Umbrianas and Sevata. They opened the door and stepped out on the platform as the rain was pouring down on them, pattering on their armor. "This is the last spot. Where in the hells is h-"

A massive explosion rocked the entire platform as the two of them were blown off of their feet as shrapnel and fire sprayed their bodies. Sevata looked around as pieces of shrapnel was stuck in her armor. Umbrianas was on one knee staring to Arcuris who was aiming his rifle at both of them.

"Hello, friends."

Umbrianas stood up, wrenching his hands on the grip of his giant hammer as he charged towards Arcuris, "He's here!" In return, Arcuris opened fire, the massive rifle slamming rounds down range at Umbrianas and Sevata. The ammunition was powerful enough to punch through even Umbrianas's heavy armor and explode, causing massive damage to him as he moved forward. Through insane rage, he was able to close the distance on Arcuris. Sevata snarled as she went to flank her target.

Arcuris put away his rifle before drawing the gunblade to meet Umbrianas. Pushed forward by rage and pain, The Roegadyn swung violently and recklessly as his hammer came even close to slamming Sevata's cranium. His wounds were healing much more slowly now, remembering he already took quite a bit of damage getting to this point in the facility. Arcuris was ready and dodged and parried every blow he could hurl at him. Sevata manage to get a hit in on Arc, but it was only a glancing blow on the side of his armor.

The two were powerful and they managed to get a couple of powerful, solid hits on Arcuris, but he shrugged them off and retaliated with even more fury, tearing and blasting into their armor and hides with his deadly gunblade. He slammed the gunblade into the side of Sevata, firing off a charge before tearing it out and through the shoulder of Umbrianas. Umbrianas snarled and smashed Arc with his massive hammer, making him fall to one knee. Arcuris did not let go and drug the blade further through, before firing it almost midway through Umbrianas's body.

Umbraianas grunted in pain before slowly falling to the ground after Arcuris ripped it out from his heavy armor. Sevata tried to get back up but fell over, groaning from the deep wounds just caused.

"You…bastard…" Umbrianas wheezed as he turned on his side to look at Arcuris as blood ran down his armor.

"Did you think I would not be ready for all of you? You think me being out here alone has made me soft?" Arcuris loaded the gunblade, anticipating the other two would arrive shortly, "Just because I have a conscious doesn't make me weak. It makes me realize all of the horrible things I've done for Garlemald, all of my faults and failings. It makes me extra pissed off when I need to be."

Arcuris turned to see both Tallian and Cassius walking onto the landing platform as he slammed the chamber on the gunblade closed, "Like now."

Tallian's hardened features stared to Arcuris, a look of disappointment and sadness drenched along them. It was more of a look of pity without any kind of anger even after looking to Umbrianas and Sevata who were recovering from the brutal engagement with Arc. Cassius drew his blade as he walked beside Tallian, only to have his commander stop him by putting his arm in front of him, "Arcuris, you have betrayed Garlemald, killed and wounded many to those loyal to the throne, and constantly undermine us every chance you are possibly given."

"Come here to rend your judgment, Tallian?" He kept his blade to his side as the rain and wind battered them all.

"All will be forgiven. Come home to us , Arcuris. You don't have to do this anymore. "

Arcuris was taken aback by his words. He was not the only one either, Sevata and Cassius, most of all, glared and turned their attention to Tallian. Arcuris looked to Tallian as the rain tapped along his armor, smiling underneath of his helmet, "That would be nice, wouldn't it? Just forgive all of that pain and suffering just like that?" He peered down at the landing pad as the rain washed the blood down the nearby drains, "Could I even see my parents once more?" His face turned into a scowl as tears of anger burned his face under the armored visage.

His face immediately flared with rage as he looked to both of them in defiance, "But we both know what I am going to say."

Tallian Lucalla pulled his arm back to his side to free up Cassius, "I felt that deep down I knew that was what your answer would be. I was hoping I was wrong."

#Arcuris rilanox #ffxiv rp #crystal data center #garleans #mateus #garlean #ffxiv #writing #old friends #pre-End Walker #old friends part 2 #to be continued #editing this with the new tumblr format was AWFUL #finally part 2 after so long #language #violence

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es-kay-zee · 4 years ago

Text

This Is How We Fall - Chapter 1

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

genres: angst, smut, maybe occasional fluff, lots of religious overtones, fantasy au, slowburn (or at least an attempt at it)

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @jisungsplatforms @etherealeeknow @qtieskz (if you wanna be added let me know)

proofread: definitely not

a/n: this took me longer to write than i thought it would, but oh well. let me know what you guys think of it :)

____________________

You’re going to die.

That’s all you can think as you plummet through the sky at record speed. The only thought in your head is about your imminent death. And the only thing you can feel is the burning. You don’t have a chance to think about anything else as the pain emanates from your entire body. Your skin feeling as it it’s been ignited with the flames of Hell. The pain is debilitating, it cripples you to the point where you can’t even scream.

Time seems to slow around you, your Fall feeling as if it’s lasting several millennia. You’re just Falling silently as you wait for it all to be over. You wait for your body to go up in flames, for your pain to end. And when flames steadily begin to engulf your wings, you think it’s finally going to be over. The flames dance along your wings, devouring every feather in their path. And you can feel every single one. You can feel every single feather be consumed by the flames. You can feel the way each and every one is turned to dust and scattered in your wake. It’s only a matter of moments before every feather is gone and all that’s left is the charred and blackened remains of your wings.

You expect the flames to engulf the rest of your body, but they don’t. Instead, they die down, slowly shrinking until they disappear completely. The flames are gone, and along with them, the burning. You feel nothing. Hollow. Empty. There’s nothing but an absence of anything as your descent continues. But there’s something about the moment that feels almost calming. As if you no longer have to worry about anything.

Until you hit the ground with a loud crash, and it feels as if every bone in your body breaks upon impact. You wish the impact could have killed you, anything to stop the pain. But that’s not possible. Only a Blade of a Divine can kill an Angel. All the crash provides is a fresh new wave of pain to every nerve ending in your body, but worse than the ache that you can feel everywhere, is the burning of your lungs. The dust from the ground swirls all around you, dancing in the rays of sunlight. It fills the air, fills your lungs, and it burns almost as bad as the flames did.

Your mind screams at you to stand up and figure out where you are, but it’s several minutes before you can even move your fingertips. Slowly, oh so slowly, you manage to sit up, opening your eyes and squinting at your surroundings. The first thing you see is the dust that’s still floating around you, particles coming to a rest upon your skin. The air starts to clear, and you can see trees. An endless sea of trees all around you. A dark, lifeless sea. The trees are dead, dying at best, only a few leaves clinging onto the otherwise bare branches. Those few leaves are dark, sad, not even lit up with the colours of autumn.

You look down, trying to figure out what you landed on, because it sure hurt a lot worse than dirt. Beneath you, you find a cement altar table, upon which rests the cracked indent of your body. Around the edge of the altar table grows flowers, just as dead as the trees. The surround the altar table, acting as a gloomy autumnal-toned barricade between your landing place and the rest of the world around you. And as you gaze down at the colourless flowers, you start to wonder if, perhaps, that is just how all plants grow here. If they’re not actually dead, but they simply appear as if they are. You reach down for a petal, expecting to find it dry, but instead it’s soft, delicate, full of a life that is just not visible.

You slowly rise to your feet, being sure to step over the line of flowers as not to trample them. They’re beautiful, in their own way, and there’s something special, about them being the first thing you’ve touched in this new place, that you will always hold dear to you. Finally standing, it takes everything not to collapse back down to the ground. Your body and mind both feel heavy, as if they’re being weighed down with bricks. Willpower. That’s what you need as you stumble closer to the trees. If you weren’t so determined to figure out more about where you are, then you wouldn’t’ve had the strength to will your legs to carry you. But you are determined, and that’s what carries you as you make your way through the seemingly never-ending forest. It’s not easy, you’re weak and tired, but you push through. You have no idea where you’re going, or what you’re going to find, but whatever it is has to be better than nothing.

It’s about an hour before the exhaustion gets too much, and all you’ve managed to find in that time is a small clearing containing another altar table. It’s strange, you would’ve thought you’d somehow just travelled in a circle if it weren’t for this altar table being smooth. It’s undamaged, free of any blemishes. It’s clear that you didn’t land here. It’s surrounded by another ring of gloomy flowers, and the untarnished surface is the only indication that you’re not exactly where you stared.

You step towards the altar table, again being sure not to tread on any of the flowers before taking refuge on the cement surface. It’s cold, the chill from the cement seeping through your clothing, turning your skin icy as you lay down upon it. It’s only for a moment, you tell yourself. You’re only allowing yourself a moment to rest your weary body before continuing on your journey to find something, anything that lets you know you’re not the only being here. But as your eyelids start to droop, you tell yourself that maybe a little bit longer will be beneficial. That perhaps a short nap will provide you enough strength to travel further.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The alarm blares obnoxiously through the room, reverberating off each of the walls. It’s been a long time since the siren’s gone off, months since this sound has echoed down these halls. The young man jumps up from his seat, running over towards the map. He sees two markers pinging in the forest, small lights flashing at both points. It’s only a matter of moments before the room is filled with other people too, all surrounding the young man looking at the map. He’s shocked that there’s two pings, never before has that happened. He’s quick to divide the gathered group into two teams, instructing the first to search one site and the other to search the second.

Within minutes of being given instructions, the teams are setting out on their assigned missions. It takes them each several hours to reach their destinations, the places being some of the furthest away from the palace. The first team arrives at the first location, and are shocked to find no one there, just a broken altar table and no signs as to which way the person travelled. The second team yielded better results, finding someone sleeping restfully upon the concrete. They try waking her, with no luck. So instead, they opt to just carry her all the way back. She sleeps the entire way, not stirring even once from her deep slumber.

They make it back to the palace, walking through the quiet halls, carrying her towards one of the sleeping chambers. She’s placed on the bed, showing no signs of life other than her steady breathing. Even though it’s unlikely that she’ll wake up, everyone is quiet as the file back out of the room. She’s exhausted, the Fallen always are when they first show up. The young man enters the room, holding a blanket in his arms. He drapes it over the sleeping person, being sure to cover their entire body. He pauses for a moment, taking in the beauty of her face, before quietly exiting the room, allowing her to sleep until she’s recovered.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Gold.

It’s the first thing you see when your eyes flutter open. You see hues of golden, shining in the flickering light of the numerous candles lining the walls. Your eyes slowly start to focus, and you realise that it’s golden locks of hair framing the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen. You try to focus on the details of the face, but you’re eyes keep drifting back to the hair, the shades of gold rivalling only those of the solid gold architecture of Heaven’s palace.

It’s the first bit of colour you’ve seen since you were banished, since you were sent away by the very Archangels you served. And you’re enchanted by it. Your desire to know where you are is overpowered by your desire to never look away from such a beautiful colour.

“You’re awake,” speaks the golden-haired person, and the words pull you out of your daze.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I suppose I am.” You’ve only just awoken but you’re already so tired once again.

“Get some more rest. We’ll take you to meet The Boss when you’re fully recovered.”

“Recovered? But I’m fine now.”

“No, you’re not. You can barely keep your eyes open and,” he pauses, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. It’s soft, his touch, and you desperately want to feel more of it. But he pulls his hand away sooner than you wanted him to. “Yip, you’ve still got a bit of a fever. It’s fine, the Fall really takes it out of ya. Just a few more days of resting and then you’ll be good to go.”

“Wait, few more days? How long have I been sleeping?”

“About four days so far.”

“Four days!?” you want to sit up, but you’re still so exhausted that you can barely move your body.

“Yeah, but that’s normal. We’ll answer any questions you have when you wake up again. We also have a couple questions for you as well, but for now, just go back to sleep,” his voice is calming, and at just the sound of it you can feel yourself drifting back into a dreamless slumber.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

By the time you open your eyes again, the room is no longer lit by burning candles. Instead, sunlight pours through the large windows, bathing the room in a warm light. It’s comforting. Peaceful. The way the light streams through in visible rays is breath-taking, reminding you of the warm summer days in Heaven.

“How are you feeling?” a voice asks from across the room. You slowly sit up, turning to face the direction of where the person spoke. You were hoping the voice belonged to the boy with golden hair, but it doesn’t. It belongs to another boy, this one with dark hair. He’s holding a spare change of clothes in his arms as he walks towards you.

“Uh, fine, I guess,” you reply. “I don’t feel so tired anymore.”

“That’s good. These are for you to wear. What you’re wearing now can be cleaned for you if you want. But in the meantime, you can wear this,” he smiles, placing the folded clothes on the bed next to you. You look down at the clothing currently covering your body, and it’s obvious that the dust from the altar table is caked into the fabric. “I’ll be waiting just outside the door while you change. Just come poke your head out when you’re done and then I’ll take you to meet The Boss.”

He disappears out the door, closing it softly behind him, and you finally have a proper moment to look at the room you’re in. It’s a large room, the ceiling towering high above your head. The bed is large too, and the whole place reminds you of the bedrooms in Heaven’s palace. There’s an extravagant fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, in front of which sits a lavish couch, a deep red in colour. Grand curtains frame the large windows, and it’s in the light of day that you can see the sconces resting upon the walls. It’s beautiful, the architecture and interior design, absolutely stunning.

You pull your attention back to the clothes next to you, not wanting to keep the boy waiting for too long. You stand up, legs slightly wobbly as you do so. A shiver runs down your spine when you pull your dusty clothes from your body. The air is cooler than you thought it would be, the sunlight doing surprisingly little to warm the space. You quickly redress yourself in the new garment, paying little attention to what you’re wearing, just wanting something over you to be warm once again. It’s only when your reflection catches your eye as you walk past the intricately-framed mirror that you notice what you’re actually wearing. It’s a dress, one more beautiful than you’ve ever worn before. It’s plain, but that’s where it harnesses its beauty from; it’s simplicity. You pry your eyes from your reflection, continuing on your way to the door. You pull it open and are greeted with the sight of the smiling boy.

“You ready?” he asks, the smile never leaving his face as you nod in response. “Good, now if you’ll just follow me. And if you can hold all questions until we get there because The Boss can answer them all for you.”

“Can I ask one thing now?” you say, unable to help smiling at the boy’s chirpiness.

“Sure, I’m not usually that good at answering questions, but I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure you can answer this one with no problem.”

“Really? That’s good. So, what’s the question?”

“What’s your name?” He pauses for a moment, halting in his tracks as he turns to face you.

“Goodness! I never introduced myself! Sorry about that, I’m Jisung. Nice to meet you,” he holds out his hand, and you reach up and shake it. “What about you? What’s your name?”

“Well, Jisung, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m y/n.”

“Y/n. That’s a pretty name.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment, a smile gracing your lips.

You both continued walking forwards, turning various corners and passing numerous doors. But there’s something about the path you’re both taking that feels all too familiar. As if you’ve walked these exact halls before. But you can’t shake the feeling as you continue walking. It plays on your mind, and it’s not until you Jisung stops in front of a pair of large doors, arching high above you both that you realise why it feels so familiar. It’s because you have walked these walls before. Not these exact ones, but the one’s in Heaven’s palace. They’re identical to the hallways of this palace. Your heartrate picks up, your mind thinking back to the last time you were in front of these doors. Back to when your life changed. Your sentencing.

Jisung steps forward, knocking twice on the door, the sound echoing though the otherwise empty hallway. That’s one difference between these doors and the ones in Heaven; these don’t have guards stationed on either side. The heavy doors slowly swing open, and immediately you notice more differences. This room is filled with light, sunlight beaming through many windows and skylights. And there’s less thrones. In Heaven there’s four of them, but here there’s only one. And upon it sits a man. A man who holds all the power here, it’s obvious from the way he holds himself that he’s in charge. His posture impeccable, him radiating an authoritative aura. The same aura as the Archangels in Heaven. But also, different. The man before you seems homier, comfier. Just being in his presence makes you feel safer than the Archangels ever did. This man radiates a level of comfort and security that you’ve never felt anywhere else.

“What’s your name, child?” Even his voice is soothing, making you feel warm.

Y/n,” you reply, freely giving away your name for the second time today.

“Hello, y/n. I’m Lucifer. Welcome to Hell.”

#stray kids fic #skz fic #hyunjin fic #hyunjin series #skz series #stray kids series

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saikagerights · 4 years ago

Text

Lay Me Down to Rest - Entry for Day of MirSan 2021

Hello there! And welcome to my first Inuyasha fanfiction, as apart of the @dayofmirsan event.

I initially was planning to be an observer of the event, but sudden inspiration struck at 1am during my nightly routine of falling asleep to Inuyasha. Rewatching the Monkey Sprite episode is interesting for many reasons. For one, there was an unhealthy amount of filler added into the anime adaptation of this story-line, which gave hit-or-miss comedy. But the most important thing is that Miroku and Sango are mostly unaccounted for in this story-line, which gives shippers like me an opportunity to write some “off-screen development” for them. And though the anime does give us an idea, I’m afraid that Miroku’s indifference and frustrated edge in the scene feels a bit off, so I decided to add a bit of a bit of context. Consider this a bit of a fusion between the anime in manga, though the scene is based off of the anime. Also I was very liberal with my use of English/Japanese dub terminology. I watched the anime in English, but switched over to the manga to replace the Final Act, so it’s a bit inconsistent.

I’ve been observing this fandom from afar ever since I started getting into Inuyasha back in December, and though I wanted to try and engage with it, it seemed very daunting given this fandom’s age and organization. But I’m very grateful that I was given the chance to participate in this event, and lucky that inspiration struck me at the right time. I’ve really been looking forward to seeing the works that come out of this event, and I hope you enjoy my contribution.

And thanks for the mods for allowing me to share my work with you fellow fans

InuYasha and it’s properties are owned by creator Rumiko Takahashi and Sunrise

Read on AO3

Sango tailed the monk as he led their investigation. The villagers they had asked so far had no knowledge of the wicked demon, only of the pestering monkeys that were ravaging their fields. Her companion simply nodded, thanking them for their time and promising that the Inugami would save their village. They soon found themselves at the outskirts of the village on an empty patch of land outside the forest, save for one tall tree. Sango found his behavior during their search to be strange, especially as he now paused at the tree, leaving his Shakujo leaning against its trunk.

Was he just as stumped as she was? Would this reprieve be a chance for them to rethink their approach?

“Why have we stopped here, Miroku?” She questioned. “Aren’t we supposed to search for Naraku’s whereabouts?”

Her befuddlement heightened as he laid his body to rest in the grass underneath the shade of the tree with a sigh, both hands pillowing his head. His intentions then became clear at the sight of his eyelids slipping shut.

“How might we do that when we have neither Inuyasha’s nose or Kagome’s detection?” His tone reflected his relaxed poise. “I merely said that so that Inuyasha would be more inclined to help those villagers.”

Her head tilted downward towards the monk’s resting face. “I understand wanting to help, but do you honestly think that Inuyasha dealing with those monkeys will get us any closer to finding him?

“Not particularly.” He punctuated the off-handed remark with a yawn, overstating his disinterest. “But enough of that... Why don’t you join me here?”

She stood awestruck at his bold request. He lays there while their friends were helping this poor village and now he asks her to do the same? If Inuyahsa were to find out, he’d surely have more pressing things to worry about than the food security of the village.

“I don’t think it would be wise, considering your flippant lies.”

The man remained still, no sign of concern disrupting his posture.

“If you changed back into your battle attire before our return, they’d never suspect a thing.” He ignored her statement, a peaceful smile casually appearing on his face. She instantly recognized this move. He was fully convinced he would get his way, the sleazy crook. “Besides, I’m sure sleep has been as kind to you as it has been to me as of late.”

Although it was usually hard to detect amongst his manner of speaking, the monk’s sarcasm was not missed by the slayer. She knew very well that Naraku’s sudden disappearance had their whole group on edge, including herself. And while sleep had become its own battle, the desperate investigations of their enemy have left her distracted from everything else. Sleep meant the rest needed to fight again, but it also meant time alone with one’s most intimate thoughts. What always plagued her mind nowadays were things she’d rather not willingly engage. Finding Naraku should be her biggest concern now, but she indulged her companion despite what she would consider was her better judgement.

The monk had a particular talent for steering her away from rationality.

“Knowing your pervy ways, I’m sure you’d try and sneak a peek at me”

The monk could’ve never noticed the sneer on her face behind his still-closed eyes. The same smile was plastered on his face as well, despite her accusation. He really did enjoy giving her grief, didn’t he...

“Trust me, my dear. I have no intention of moving from this spot for a while. Or at least until Inuyasha comes for my head.”

“Then I guess you wouldn’t mind if I left Kilala here to guard this spot until I returned.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t mind at all. I’m sure she’d love to watch me lie here, right Kilala?”

Sango looked to the nekomata, who merely chuffed in response. She was wary of Kilala’s strange trust in the monk at times, but she was sure that the demon would keep an eye on him in case he tried something funny.

Miroku took this as the perfect time to reveal his indigo eyes to her.

“Please, my intentions are more honorable than what they seem, believe me.”

There it was, that gentle voice of his used to convince her of his authenticity. The same breathy tones that sent her heart racing and her stomach in somersaults. She knew Miroku was confident in his charms, but she also liked to think that he was fully aware of this game they played. She only came to grips with it recently, but there was something going on.

They’d fight, they’d talk it through, and just when she thought he would try to make a move, that damn hand of his would find the wrong place to caress. Or it would be when she found herself grieving once more, and he could comfort her with his words alone. How did he always know what to say that made everything clear and could heal every fiber of her being, but also had a hand that never failed to do the exact opposite? He was a truly frustrating man, but he was the only one she ever considered more than just that.

But did he really know? That was a puzzle Sango couldn’t solve. It wasn’t as if anything meaningful resulted from these escapades. Afterwards, they would act as if nothing happened, and he would return to his typical flirtatious ways with any woman that entered his line of sight. So Sango liked to think that Miroku fully knew that he was toying with her feelings. That way it made it easier to lower her expectations and resent them despite Kagome’s not-so-subtle prodding.

When she became abruptly aware that her eyes had been locked on him for too long, she made her hasty retreat, hoping he didn’t catch her bright red flush in the shade of the tree.

“This man will be the death of me,” she softly cursed herself as soon as she knew she left his earshot.

_______________________________________________________________

Upon her return to their little “spot,” she was greeted by an alert Miroku. His body was now fully upright and turned towards her approaching form.

“You’ve accepted my invitation, I see”

“I thought you were trying to sleep”

“I still am, but I’d figured it would help if I got a quick glimpse of your beauty before-hand.”

She rolled her eyes at his shameless attempt. “You really are troublesome, you know that?”

“You wound me, dear Sango!” He unceremoniously flopped back into his previous position, his left hand patting the spot next to him. “You are free to lie beside me if you wish.”

Without the need for consideration, she silently opted to sit against Kilala’s curled form, stretching her legs in front of her. He managed to convince her to relax alongside him, but she had no intention of allowing herself to get too comfortable around him in the likely case the monk’s wandering hands wandered once more. He sighed audibly at her decision, but allowed his eyes to close again without any further word. He could act like a child all he wanted, but she would not budge.

She watched the man for a while, observing his state of rest. She could tell as much that he hadn’t fallen asleep just yet by all of his idle noises and the way he kept trying to steal a glance in her direction.

“Can’t sleep?”

She hadn’t even tried to close her eyes just yet, as she was still trying to grasp their current situation. Why was he so insistent on sleeping if he was just going to try and stare at her the entire afternoon? Why did he lie to Inuyasha in the first place if this was how they would spend their time? With all these questions moving around in her head, she might as well ask for the most basic of them.

“Miroku? Why do you lie and steal as casually as you do? I always thought that monks were pure-hearted.”

“What a wonderful question!” He exclaimed. With such enthusiasm, she was almost afraid of the answer she would soon receive from him. “I’ve been traveling on my own for so long, and it’s quite difficult to acquire wealth in such unfortunate times. I wish to give aid to those in need, but I also believe that it never hurts to help yourself as well.” He settled for an even tone and let his eyes slip open once more.

“And you are right, It is true that holy-people such as myself are meant to be free of sin. But, I was born tainted by the hole that resides in my hand.” His voice tapered off at his pause, the newfound silence growing thick with each passing moment. His sound returned to him, soft and low, as if it were only meant for his ears alone.

“It doesn’t matter how much I devote myself to my faith to any idol or deity. My curse is hell-bent on deciding my fate....”

But we are trying to stop Naraku! To free you from the Kazaana. You can always change your path after that! She immediately contested, perhaps a little too loudly, but she didn’t care. How dare he speak so little of himself and avoid her gaze as he did it?! She refused to accept his belittling statements.

“It is very hard for me to see a future for myself at this time, I’m afraid…” He brought his head up to look at her. A flash of fear ran through his eyes before he looked down once more. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t speak like that.”

He’s afraid…

And he had every right to be.

“Please don’t apologize.”

He never showed it in front of their group, but behind that calm and smooth exterior remained a man trembling under the weight of his own mortality. He was a man after all, and men were never to show what made them most vulnerable. But with how much he gives to help others, it feels unfair for him to just allow himself to suffer inside as he did.

If they understood each other as well as he liked to claim, then she knew he hated the restless feeling they had knowing nothing of where their wicked nemesis resided, surely plotting something to exploit the fears he caused within their hearts. Knowing that her poor brother remained in that demon’s grasp sickened her to her core, and sitting around with no leads made it hard to lay dormant as they did now.

“I get it. I am just as frustrated as you… About Kohaku-”

“-You don’t need to go any further” He interrupted her thoughts, I didn’t mean to remind you of your pain like that.”

“Miroku-”

“-Please,” he sharply cut in once more, hoarseness settling into his throat. He must’ve noticed it as well, as he cleared his throat soon after. “let’s just try to find rest while we still can.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly trying to force unconsciousness upon himself. Sango relented, trying to relax her body, idly stroking Kilala as she watched the man slowly succumb to rest. It was surreal to see him struggle like this when it seemed like meditation was second nature to him. She decided on trying for sleep once his breathing evened out and all the remaining tension left his face.

________________________________________________________________

Miroku wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but he could tell from the shadows before him had grown considerably when his eyes peered open. He turned his head to see Sango now curled up against Kilala, her face all but buried in her demon companion’s fur. He slowly rose to his feet, slightly stretching as he made an intake of his surroundings. It looked as if the sun would soon begin it’s retreat from the sky. The monk knew the rest was necessary, but he definitely didn’t look forward to another predictively sleepless night.

One more glance at Sango’s sleeping form was enough to convince him to approach her, neglecting his Shakujo to silence his movements. He knew, probably better than anybody, of the threat imposed by the slayer’s attuned senses. He also knew the danger of being caught if she awoke to his gawking. Unfortunately it was a risk he was willing for one small fleeting moment to stare at her.

What an idiot he had been for making her sympathize with his life. Even worse that it reminded her of her own grief. He was happy to indulge her curiosity, but when he looked up at her, he turned cowardly at what he saw. It wasn’t fear, or sadness over his grim fate. It was the very same fire that lit behind her eyes in battle.

She was prepared to fight for him, it seemed…

He dare not think that she would go any farther for that. He was not worth her death. In fact, nothing was worth her death. The honor of her clan was at stake, and her life was essential in carrying on their legacy. One measly itinerant monk with a fated death should be worthless in her eyes, even if he wanted nothing more than to keep her alive.

Even if he wanted more than anything to see a future with her.

He turned away from her, returning to his spot in a now seated position. The monk had half a mind to wake the woman, but decided against it. Every waking moment for her was its own battle, after all. She needed all the rest she could get. And he’d gladly wait for her until that battle resumed, and fight with her at every step.

And if dying for her now meant he could spend the next life by her side, then he would welcome death with open arms.

“I hope this woman is the death of me,” he softly wished before all else melted away to his own meditation.

______________________________________________________________

Yeah I realized I took some liberties here with how Miroku and Sango’s relationship was at this point. This episode takes place after the Temptress of the Mist and Demon-Head castle, but far behind Mt. Hakurei, so what was going on with them hadn’t really become a “pattern” just yet. And Miroku had just comforted her in her grieving state for the first time right before that. Sango wasn’t deep enough to say he was her reason for living, so that’s why I kept her on the fence and didn’t have her feel too disappointed, because that’s what came after Mt Hakurei.

I’m a sucker for long winded perspective changes, especially here with all the parallels I draw between them. Some of my best lines were written here, especially the ending line. My GOD. I swear, I wrote that and everything made sense. I said “yes” over and over again, it was so good.

Also can you tell whose voice I’m talking about when describing Miroku’s? The answer is Koji Tsujitani. I always knew about Tsujitani’s delivery that makes Miroku sound truly “fake” but I noticed rather recently how he would add so much breath, especially in serious scenes. On the other hand, Kirby Morrow played the character down and deep in his throat, which isn’t bad when talking about his overall performance, but I decided to favor Tsujitani’s performance in this instance.

(I’m a classically trained singer and a music education major, so I’m a nut for analyzing voice acting. I have respect for both of these men may they rest in peace.)

Thanks again for the opportunity, and I hope to write more for this series.

-Saikage

#inuyasha #mirsan #mirsan day #dayofmirsan2021 #Miroku #Sango

36 notes · View notes

philliamwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.3]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 7.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Chapter 03: Ties That Bind

Where war, and joy, and terror Have all at times held away; Where both delight and horror Have had their fitful day.

The happiest under heaven A king of powerful mind; A company so proven Would now be hard to find

Gawain put on a good cheer. ‘Why should I hesitate?’ He said. ‘Kind or severe, We must engage our Fate.’

[Sir Gawain and the Green Knight]

„Breathe,“ Hanneman says for the third time. At every tap of his pen against the table, you flinch as if someone is knocking right against the inside of your skull. “You have to feel the Crest, become one with it. Don’t think of it as an addition; see it as an extension of your very self.”

You exhale but it’s hard to focus after you’ve been sitting in the same position for nearly two hours and your legs keep falling asleep.

“Focus on it,” Hanneman continues. He starts to gesture with his free hand, an indicator that he’s just as frustrated with your lack of progress as you are. “Focus on the feeling that took hold of you when you fought the bandits. Imagine what you want. Ask yourself what it is you really want, and take hold of that picture.”

Well, first of all, you really want a sandwich.

For the past few weeks, you’ve been waking up before sunrise to attend private lessons with Hanneman to get a hold of your Crest’s power. Now the end of the month approaches, and still your body refuses to get accustomed to work at such an early hour, and more importantly without eating first. An hour ago, your stomach started growling, but Professor Hanneman has proved again and again to be very successful in ignoring factors that disturb his lessons. You continue breathing through what you consider hunger pains instead of the raise of new powers, but with the sound of screaming students outside and the occasional flapping of wings as Pegasus Knights fly by on their patrol, it’s anything but successful.

“Focus!” Hanneman chides again as if he can read your mind and knows exactly you’re thinking of the pheasant roast with berry sauce on the menu today.

“I’m trying,” you groan and slump into the chair, defeated. “But I don’t feel anything.”

“Hmm hmmm,” Hanneman hums and looks at you like you were supposed to understand what he’s conveying with that sound. “Maybe we’re looking at it the wrong way,” he says once you don’t follow up on his inexplicable sound. “Maybe we should stop thinking of it as a common Crest, but approach it like it is something entirely different.” He quickly notes something on his paper, then proceeds to flip through the open books he’s splayed out on his desk. “There is so little we know about the Crest of the Herald. I am much frustrated no one thought of studying it a thousand years ago!��

“I don’t understand. How can it be different?” Your first lesson solely focused on Crests. How they are thought to be power incarnate, bestowed upon humans by the Goddess countless ages ago. Today those who are descendants of Fódlan’s Ten Elites and Four Saints, who fought during the War of Heroes beside Saint Seiros, wear Crests, a sign of wealth and nobility.

“Well, one possible explanation could be that for whatever reason, the first Herald was different from his fellow warriors, the Ten Elites,” Hanneman offers, leaning back into his chair and looking a lot more interested in the conversation now. “The Goddess must have found him worthy of her power just as she found Saint Seiros worthy.”

“Then why wasn’t he a Saint?” you wonder. From your understanding, the Four Saints were special comrades of Saint Seiros, just as guided by the Goddess as their leader. What had made the Herald from back then different? “According to everything you told me, he sounds a lot like this Macuil person. Focusing on strategy and all that.”

“Saint Macuil,” Hanneman corrects you, but there’s no bite in his voice. “And yes, perhaps he was akin to the Saints, but that clearly wasn’t what determined the final decision to name him Herald.”

“Well, that’s just my kind of luck,” you mumble, but when Hanneman makes a puzzled sound, you ask instead, “And you’re sure I’m a descendant of him?”

“Most likely! You bear a Major Crest, which means the Herald’s blood runs strong in your body. After he disappeared, he might have settled down and started a family. Unfortunately, nothing is recorded about him after the War of Heroes concluded.”

“Then how come there was no one else in a thousand years who bore the same Crest?” You aren’t sure you fully understand how they work. Apparently, Crests grant special powers to those who hold them such as high aptitude for magic or enhanced strength. But you know better than anyone that the Crest of the Herald is special. It doesn’t simply give you a boon, it allows you to command the flow of battle. But is it really a blessing bestowed by the Goddess? You don’t remember a divine revelation or talking to a Goddess. Or did that maybe occur even before you were found by the Officers Academy’s students? Before your memory loss? You certainly don’t feel chosen by a deity.

“Trying to explain the Goddess’ whims would wield about the same result as asking this question,” Hanneman says. “Sometimes a Crest may skip generations. No one can say with certainty who will be chosen. If it will be the first or third born. That is why we must further study Crests! For example, why, unlike other Crests, has your appeared physically visible?” Hanneman mutters more questions under his breath and notes them quickly on his paper. It’s remarkable how enthusiastic he approaches the topic if it only didn’t make you feel like an experiment lying on a dissection table.

“I want to know so much more about the first Herald,” you mumble. “What was his name? Where was he from?” Why did he disappear and what were the costs he had paid for such a title. Only one month in and Lady Rhea already granted you an impressive room to reside. People treat you with respect and admiration even though you aren’t doing much besides wave at them on the streets or hold some conversations. If being the Herald only encompasses these tasks, you’ll gladly take on the role and speak to people. But that would be a dream too good to be true.

“We can only speculate,” Hanneman says. “Some believe the Herald came when Seiros needed him most. Our Goddess’ answer to her cry of help. Others believe he was simply a general who originated form a farmer’s family. Other, smaller sources talk about a prince from a far off land who passed through Fódlan and decided to stay. But in all cases, the Herald was a great asset to win the War of Heroes and save Fódlan from the tyranny of the Fell King.”

“Yeah, no pressure there,” you mumble, sinking further into your seat. Hopefully no one expects you to save Fódlan from evil monarchs. If yes, it certainly won’t happen on an empty stomach. When Hanneman releases you, there’s only one place for you to be. The Dining Hall is crowded at this time of hour. Students and faculty bustle everywhere, eager to get their favourite meal on a plate. Just like them, you are drawn in by the amazing smell of roasted meet and freshly baked pastries.

The only thing you can live without is how once you enter the room several heads turn in your direction, and a ripple of “Look, it’s the Herald” goes through the crowd, spreading like a wave. Or a disease, you think with a sour taste in your mouth as you move through the parting sea. They want you to acknowledge them but Goddess forbid you actually engage in conversation with them and they flee like you’re the Herald of Pest.

“Herald!” Well, not everyone escapes. Some seem to like living dangerous.

Edelgard looks straight at you from between the other students from the Eagle class sitting at a table, removing any doubt she means anyone else but you. Running from her would be a sign of defeat, so you drag yourself over to the Eagle table and give the round an uncertain smile. “Hello.”

“Herald, if you have time, please sit with us,” Edelgard offers but the look she pins on you doesn't give you any choice. The silence of her classmates speaks louder than words, and a quick glance to Hubert tells you that he very much would like for you to notsit with them.

“Sure,” you say lamely and sit opposite from her where Bernadetta quickly shuffles to the side to make room, and then further down the bench until she jumps to her feet and flees from the hall. It’s a miracle she’s out of her chambers in the first place, undoubtedly Byleth’s work.

“Did you manage any progress with Professor Hanneman?” Edelgard asks, carefully cutting her pheasant roast into small bite-sized pieces. She looks the complete opposite from someone capable of hacking away their enemies but you wouldn’t dare to underestimate her.

“It’s slow,” you admit, solely focusing on shoving potatoes from one side of your plate to the other so you don’t have to look at anyone. “I’ve only grasped the basics of how Crests work and the Herald’s is so different.”

“Research might prove more fruitful if you’d be called into action,” she says, and it’s difficult to determine if that statement is a simple observation or underlying critique towards Rhea’s decision to leave you out of the major education system. At least that’s something you’re sure of. Edelgard is difficult.

“Maybe. But chances are higher I get myself killed somehow on the battlefield.” You’re already dreading the approaching noon hours. Byleth has worked out a special training programme for you and the house leaders. So far there hasn’t been a day without aching muscles and bruises for you. Thinking of Byleth, you can’t help but ask, “So how’s Byleth as a Professor?”

Edelgard considers her plate with mild interest, but her index fingers start tapping against her cutlery. She has small, delicate hands. Cute hands. You gawk at them for two seconds before noticing Hubert starring daggers at you, and quickly avert your eyes to your cup of ginger tea like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Our professor shows knowledge in the most curious things,” he says, surprising you by joining the conversation. “I think the Adrestian Empire will benefit greatly from that.”

You aren’t sure how leading the class correlates directly to joining the Empire, but you don’t want to point that out. Hubert is still too much of a puzzle you’re adamant on not piecing together because whatever picture waits for you after the assembly might be one of horror.

“She really is one to look up to,” Edelgard agrees, but she isn’t looking at anyone, so it seems she’s saying it more to herself. You want to try and read more out of her expression, but distraction comes quickly in form of more students from the Eagle class. Caspar is the first bouncing excitedly towards the table, and still he somehow miraculously manages to keep his food from flying everywhere. “Herald!” he calls and slides right on the seat right next to you. “How’s the head situation going?”

“Caspar,” Linhardt chides and gives his friend the disappointed look of a parent that can’t bring his child to use a fork to eat. “Would you stop pestering the Herald with the same question every day?”

Linhardt hits the mark. It was nice in the beginning to have someone show so much interest in your wellbeing, but now you don’t know if the daily reminder how you fail to regain pieces of your past is rude or just Caspar’s naive politeness.

“Yeah well.” You try to stuff as much potatoes in your mouth as possible just to avoid talking about it. “Nothin’ yeff.”

“Herald, please try to keep your manners in check, will you?” Ferdinand comments because of course he catches you with your mouth full and sauce dripping from the corners. Unlucky for him, you don’t really care.

“Well, sorry.” Caspar frowns and scratches the remains from his plate. The two minutes you needed to finish your potatoes, he’s cleared his whole plate. “I just thought it might help.”

“Help to be reminded what’s missing?” Linhardt doesn’t look convinced. “I think the Herald knows so better than anyone.”

“Guys, drop the subject,” Edelgard intervenes. “Let us finish our meals now. Classes resume presently and I don’t want to hear any stomachs growling, understood?” The last part goes with a pointed look towards Linhardt, who answers with a lazy shrug while continuing to poke at his food, looking bored out of his mind. It lasts about three seconds before he brightens up and turns towards you while rummaging through his school bag. From that, he pulls out notes and a pen, and unceremoniously shoves them into your hands. “I have a question, Herald. Would you be so kind and look over these strategic proposals I’ve developed from the last lesson? I understand what you taught us were basics as we find them in the library. I simply took the time and applied those to the strengths and abilities of my classmates.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You did?” Up until now, you didn’t know Linhardt was paying attention whenever you gave the students your sorry excuses of lessons. You feel like you’ve seen him asleep far more than actually looking at the board or writing, so him presenting his notes to you now is more than a surprise. He has a clean handwriting, small letters that curl into themselves and forget to take a break between words. You squint at the sentences, trying to make them out. It sure doesn’t help that half of it is crossed out by what looks like a strategy sketch with little circles and everyone’s names filling out the space.

“This looks … elaborate,” you comment, unsure if you’ll ever be able to solve this enigma.

“No worries.” Linhardt gives a little smile. “Please give me your answer report until tomorrow. And feel free to correct me on anything I’ve done wrong.”

He’s probably done a much better job than you on your lesson notes, but you nod with a lopsided smile. “I will.”

“Oh, and while we’re at strategy talk,” Caspar jumps right in, “any good ideas how to take on a taller opponent?”

“A good kick to their shins?” you suggest.

“A dagger to their liver?” Edelgard says.

“Poison in their cup?” Hubert offers.

“You’re all animals,” Ferdinand says.

Linhardt groans. “I toldyou how to win in a fight like that, Caspar. Why won’t you listen to me?”

You don’t want to be part of the argument breaking out between them, so you turn away and try to see what the other students are doing in the dining hall. At the opposite end, Claude catches your eyes and waves like he’s been waiting way too long to finally get your attention. He points at Edelgard and flaps his arms like a chicken. He points at you and spreads his hands behind his head, forming antlers with his fingers. When Edelgard follows your eyes, his head whips around and he pretends to agree with whatever Lysithea just said.

“I hope you forgive Caspar’s enquiries,” she says, steering your focus back to her. She’s gently tapping the corners of her mouth with an embroidered napkin, and oh there they are again, her delicate fingers. You look away before Hubert catches you staring again and decides to put poison in your cup7. “I speak on behalf of everyone in the Black Eagle House when I say we wish for your full recovery to be soon.”

“If wishing would only get the job done, I might have something to work with by now.”

Edelgard doesn’t blink, her expression frozen. “Meaning?”

“I thought I'd come here and one of the Church's healers would just wave their hands to return my memories,” you mumble, scribbling a tiny Claude with little, evil horns on his head in the corner of Linhardt’s notes.

Edelgard looks at you like you've just insulted her whole noble lineage. “That isn't how magic works.”

You throw your arms up in frustration to emphasise that yes, that's the point. You don't know how anything works in this place, and you doubt Byleth's four pages of lesson plans are going to help.

“If no one comes to your aid, maybe it is time you take matters into your own hands.” You flinch at the scornful sound in Edelgard’s voice. Judging the expression on her face, she seems just as surprised about her outburst. She gets up abruptly and bids farewell with a curt nod, followed closely by Hubert as always. Her classmates look after her, each more puzzled than the next.

“Didn’t she seem … angry to you?” Linhardt thinks aloud, blinking into the empty space.

Ferdinand harrumphes. “She’s always like this. Please excuse her, Herald.”

You don’t think she’s done anything wrong, and yet she certainly doesn’t appear as always. Something about her last words strikes you as especially sharp; reproachful. Those weren’t meaningless words, but you don’t have any ways to decipher the message. A little voice tells you she isn’t wrong either. So far nothing has helped returning your memories—Manuela’s medicine, herbs from the Greenhouse, Hanneman’s spells. It seems like your brain has built defencive walls to repel any probing, which begs the answer to the question what is hiding in secret even more. But can you really do it on your own, like Edelgard suggests? It seems impossible.

With newfound doubt you finish your meal, saying your goodbyes to the now scattering Eagle students as they scurry off to their next lesson. Two hours are left before you’re meeting with Byleth and the house leaders, and since you agreed to look over Linhardt’s notes, the library seems a good next stop. You still want to go over the seven classical manoeuvres of war, especially since the students didn’t really grasp the remaining two last time, and it gives you a good excuse to look over them again as well. At the beginning, you thought there was nothing you could teach those children, not with experienced colleagues at your side who have participated in countless battles themselves. Who could have thought that talking about tactics and strategies came as natural to you as breathing. Well, Rhea did for certain, and even the students drink up your every word like it is a message from the Goddess herself and you her chosen herald. The irony of it.

But it isn’t only the students accepting your guidance. Something inside you changed in the last couple of weeks as well. When you started going through the books in the library, it was more stumbling and slipping on foreign terrain, but just in a couple of days, you moved through the matter like a fish following smoothly the currents of its native waters. It felt like home. Like building the foundation of a house from thousand variables, the result different each time but still the same: art. You build the art of battle, the last decision that will bring victory or death. You love every second of it. Which opens the possibility that it really isn’t your first time, but also more questions: Who taught you? What battles have you fought? How many of them did you win? Since those aren’t as simple to answer, you focus on fulfilling the first purpose, and hope that it will some day be enough for the students to survive battles.

If only it would end there. Your second duty isn’t as easy or pleasant, and it lies in wait for you everywhere, stalking you like a dark shadow with monstrous fangs.

“Herald.” A soldier gives a courteous bow, intercepting you in the Great Hall on your way to the library. “Pilgrims ask for you near the Entrance Hall. Please allow me to escort you.”

Immediately, your nerves tingle with nervous anticipation. This is the scary part. Meeting the people, seeing the hope in their eyes. You’d gladly send them back where they’ve come from, but some have travelled for multiple days, and denying them audience would be cruel.

“Don’t let me stop you from your duties,” you say, unconsciously tugging your clothes in order to appear presentable. “I will welcome them on my own.”

The soldier nods and bows again, his expression barely readable under the helmet before he disappears as quickly as he came.

Planning lessons is easy. You can find whatever you need in the library and work out the flow with the students. But nothing can prepare or teach you how to act like the Herald people wish for. Nowhere is anything written on the old Herald, how he talked to them and what promises he’d whispered when day broke. That is where you are on your own. Not even Rhea could answer that question. She only instructed that you see them, and remind them about their devotion to the Goddess—for she was the one who made it possible in the first place.

The Entrance Hall is emptier than usual. Most of the students are in class, and a handful of knights and soldiers might be at the advanced training camp Jeralt and Alois hold in honour of the Blade Breaker’s return. So spotting the pilgrims isn’t difficult. Especially with the Gatekeeper waving his arms in wide arcs as if fearing you might overlook him.

“Greetings, Herald!” His grin is blinding. “The pilgrims are waiting for you just at the at the foot of the stairs.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I can see them.”

“Oh, yes, of course! If anyone causes problems, count on me to help!”

“Thanks.” You answer his thumbs up with one of your own before moving downstairs. What a refreshing young man. Certainly good looking under his helmet. Byleth seems to like talking to him a lot as well.

Today’s pilgrims aren’t much different from other days. Old people are supported by their family members, who have brought baskets with sweets and flowers, presenting them at your feet.

“Herald,” they breathe in awe, bowing. No matter how often you’ve seen it by now, it still feels incredibly wrong.

“Raise your heads,” you tell them, helping an elderly woman up to hrer feet. She gasps at your touch, then clings to your hands. You try to swallow past the lump in your throat. “The Archbishop and I bid you welcome. The Goddess will smile upon your devotion.” Your cringe slightly when echoing Rhea’s words and wonder if any second the goddess might punish you by throwing lightning your way.

“We are blessed to finally meet you,” a younger woman says, taking the old woman from your hands—mother and daughter maybe? “Please accept our gifts, and may the Goddess guide you on your path to light.”

“She will answer your prayers and guide me so I can bring you peace,” you reply just so you can say something they might want to hear. Judging their delighted expressions this wasn’t the worst you could have said. Dorothea would probably be proud looking at your acting skills. Or point out your bad posture and how you’re avoiding their eyes. Dorothea would probably tell you how much you have to polish your acting skills.

“Bring us peace?” someone from the last row spits, pushing to the front. “You know nothing, the Herald will bring chaos and ruin!” A man in his forties looms above you, an ugly, padded scar crossing his face from one temple to his chin. A war veteran? They way he holds himself looks like he’s been beaten up once too much to get up again.

“You heathen, don’t you dare speak to our Herald like that,” the old woman barks, immediately doubling over in a coughing fit. Her daughter supports her, glaring at the man. “Go in peace, but go if you only came to talk ill about our Herald,” she says, clearly upset. "Doubting them is doubting our Goddess. How dare you."

“First I want to see the Herald do something! What if … if this one is an impostor.” The man turns towards the others, throwing his arms in the air. “Bring forward proof that you are not here to ruin our lands, but to actually serve in the Goddess’ name!”

This time his demand meets less resistance. Until now people were fine with seeing you and the Crest, but to want actual prove? You could easily threaten them and ask if they doubt the Goddess’ decision, but you’d rather leave that method to Rhea. You don’t want to sound like her. You don’t want to scare people. Yet admitting that you don’t really have a clue how to really use the Crest would surely support the man’s accusation. Diminishing the people’s trust in the Herald is the last thing you want, especially if it means facing Rhea’s scorn.

“I—”

“Herald!” A voice calls from the top of the stairs. When you turn around, Sylvain waves and jogs downstairs, looking like he’s been running for some time. “There you are. The Archbishop wants to see you.”

Oh no, has she heard of your failure already? Giving the choice of facing a group of doubting people or Rhea, you’d immediately go to the people. You give him a curt nod, unable to speak because you don’t trust your voice.

“I apologise,” you say to the pilgrims, clearing your throat when it comes out as a croak. “I will have something prepared for another time.”

“No, you do not need to prove anything to us,” the elderly woman says. “We will always believe in you. Please tell Her Grace we are constantly praying to our Goddess and thank her for sending you to us.”

“I will.” You squeeze her hand a last time. “Save travels.”

The man still glares at you, but without a chance to keep you present any longer, he turns away and follows the rest. You can’t wait to leave all that behind, and as you steel your nerves for what’s waiting for you in the Audience Chambers, you look up to Sylvain and ask, “Did Lady Rhea say what it is about?”

He looks over at you and blinks a couple of times, then seems to remember. “Ah ... yeah, about that. I lied.”

You stop dead in your tracks. “You lied?”

“Yup. I don’t know what Lady Rhea’s doing. But you looked like you were about to puke at those poor pilgrim’s shoes. As hilarious as that would have been, I wanted to spare you the embarrassment.” He stops now as well and smiles a boyish crooked grin. Sylvain knows exactly what to do with his face so girls fall over themselves to do him a favour, and boys grow jealous of all the attention he gets. Two weeks in, and you’ve figured out his game, keeping a respectable distance that wouldn’t birth the thought you’re avoiding him. In fact, this could be the very first time you’re actually holding a real conversation.

“Well, I … thank you? But I had everything under control.”

He looks like he doesn’t believe you. The gatekeeper you’re just passing looks like he doesn’t believe you. You press your lips into a thin line and dare any of them to disagree.

“Okay.” Sylvain shrugs. “But now we’re here.”

“Sylvain, what do you want?”

“Cutting to the chase, huh?” He crosses his arms behind his head. “Why do you think I want something?” Your raised eyebrows seem to be answer enough. Sylvain laughs a little helplessly and returns his hands back to his front, raised as an offer of peace. “I promise, I want nothing. Just a little talking. A little talking hasn’t hurt anyone.”

Something inside you wants to argue against it, but without a solid argument in hand, you follow him silently, wondering where his destination and intention lies. He belongs to the many students you can’t really read, nothing about his ambitions or goals. Sometimes he gives you this strange look through half lidded eyes, his gaze focused on your right eye—his interest in your Crest undeniable, and yet he’s been one of the few not to talk about it with you. It’s strange because whenever you come together, he looks like there’s something he’s dying to say. This time is no different.

He leads you to the wooden pavilion in the gardens, but instead of offering you a seat, Sylvain leans his slim hips against the table, half sitting on it. Seteth would be furious seeing this.

“How’s the Herald business doing for you?” he asks the one question you wouldn't expect from him. “Other than you having ‘everything under control.’” He has the audacity to air-quote. This isn’t a conversation you want to hold right now, leastwise with him. Sylvain must discern that you’re ready to bold from whatever your body is showing. With a quick step, he’s standing between you and the escape route, lazily leaning one arm against a column to uphold the illusion that you’re only having a pleasant talk when in reality his body stands between you and your freedom.

“Do you talk to the other faculty members like that as well?” you say through gritted teeth, crossing your arms. Sylvain blinks like he doesn’t understand, but you’ve seen this act before, followed by an eerily precise repetition of a subject to one of his classmates when he thinks none of the teachers pay attention. Sylvain is playing dumb and deliberately hiding a sharp mind.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” he quickly says, nothing about this crooked smile appearing apologetic whatsoever. “I’m generously curious. You’re holding up really good.”

“In comparison to what?” you demand, your heartbeat picking up. Is he trying to call you out on something? That you aren’t heraldy enough? But to your surprise, Sylvain looks genuinely surprised by your reaction.

“To nothing. In general?” He shrugs. “Back on the ceremony day, you didn’t look so good standing up there, and His Highness told us everything happened really uh … ‘suddenly.’’ More air-quotes, whatever they mean this time.

“If you mean I wasn’t really asked to become the Herald, then yes.” Your arms drop back to your side. “It was suddenly.”

Sylvain watches you for a moment, and again, there’s this look in his eyes; the need to say something he can’t. He kneads the back of his nape, avoiding your eyes. “All I’m trying to say is … having that Crest out of nothing is cool. Probably. And maybe terrifying? And just—”

You grow impatient. “Come on, get the words out, Sylvain.”

“A Crest isn’t just this nice letter of invitation to a privileged life. Just take care, is all I’m saying.”

And there’s another page to the book of surprises with Sylvain’s name on it. The immediate lack of response catches him off guard; it’s like he only notices now that the vital part to understand this conversation is missing: The source of his doubt towards Crests.

Sylvain’s body turns in a split second, his feet facing the direction he’s ready to bold towards, but this time you stand in his way and block him off. “Sylvain, are you okay?”

He blinks in confusion, then furrows his eyebrows in deep thought like you demanded he recites the Ten Heroes from memory or else fails classes. His face contorts with the effort of looking fine. “Why, yes! Just peachy. Why would you think something is off?”

“Because I have eyes in my skull.”

“Very pretty eyes, if I dare say.” His answer comes out like a fire spell, hard and fast, seemingly more instinct than anything else. He clears his throat and scratches his chin, loosing momentum. “Goddess, I am bad at this.”

“You are.” No need to sugar coat it. “If something happened, just say it.”

“Nothing really happened, I just—” He exhales audibly and stares into space for a long minute, before side stepping you without difficulty. “Actually, I remembered Professor wanted to see me after class. Something about extra lessons about eh. Horse riding. Yeah. I’ll catch you later, Herald.” He winks and bolds away, darting under your outstretched arm before you can catch him. For someone this tall, he’s surprisingly agile and fast, already disappearing behind a tall hedge towards the main building.

If that wasn’t the strangest conversation you’ve held with anyone, you don’t know what might excel that. Maybe it’s time you stop avoiding Sylvain.

The Training Grounds smells of sweat and oil. Many students and knights train, which is surprising at this kind of hour, the short break between afternoon and evening classes. You’d like to know what they’re working on, but Byleth doesn’t tolerate inattention in a classroom or on the battle field, and demands you do push-ups each time your eyes wander somewhere off. You hate her a little for that. For whatever reason, Claude has taken on the role of your partner in crime, and does whatever necessary to make Byleth punish him as well.

“What can I say, I like a good workout,” he said when you asked. He didn’t even try to hide his lie, looking as miserable as you felt. Probably hating Byleth a little as well.

It’s the fourth week of private training with her and the house leaders, and so far you can definitely say that you were not meant to fight on the field. You see how your opponent moves, you can somehow predict what they’re going to do next—but your body simply protests to act accordingly. You stumble, you fall, you need a second too long to get up and before you can do anything, a training sword is at your throat. Byleth always looks like she wants to facepalm her fist through her forehead. Or yours.

“Herald, this is not how you disarm someone,” she says, as always, and demonstrates it in one smooth, swift movement, as always. You blow hair out of your eyes, knowing you’re about to fail again. At least that gave Claude a reason to give you a new nickname, though if it’s better than the last is debatable.

“You gotta twist your wrist, duckling!” he calls from the other side of the hall, immediately drawing Byleth’s attention to him. He and Dimitri are facing off, both wielding a spear which should give Dimitri the upper hand. So far, he hasn’t landed a single hit on Claude.

“Keep your elbows in!” Byleth berates Claude. “Stop flapping them like some kind of chicken.”

Claude lets out a disturbingly convincing cluck.

You raise an eyebrow. “At least someone’s having fun.”

Byleth sighs. “He’s going to get himself killed sooner than later.”

“I don’t know. He’s managed so far, hasn’t he?”

“I’m not sure if it’s a talent or a fault.” She turns back to you and nods her chin towards the side. “Take a break. I’m going to see how the boys are doing.”

You nod, tensing all over because that’s where Edelgard is currently standing and picking out a training axe. You haven’t talked to her since lunch, and you can do without it for a couple more hours. She barely glances at you when you walk over, and instead checks out the edge of the wooden blade, turning it left and right.

“Is she as strict in the classroom as in here?” you ask, unable to go on in awkward silence. Edelgard hums, throwing a quick glance towards Byleth from under her long, white lashes. “She’s systematic and consistent. Capable in both fields. I have no reason to raise any kind of complaint.”

“That’s impressive.” You sure as heck still wouldn’t want her as a teacher. “Even though she’s been pushed into all this, she handles it like she’s never done anything else.”

“I think as a mercenary, she is used to changing approaches depending on the employer.” Edelgard is still looking at Byleth. Reading her expression is impossible, and you don’t want to point out that sticking a sword into thieves and bandits is not the same as teaching kids how to fight in a battle. Her head whips to you suddenly, and she considers the training sword in your hand. “Speaking of different approaches,” she continues, “have you considered that your field of combat might be magic?”

You have, so the answer comes immediately. “Chances are higher I set myself on fire.” You stare at her. “I didn’t mean it to rhyme.”

Edelgard ignores your last comment. “But you haven’t really tried it out, have you?” Your lack of response is answer enough for her, and she nods like that proves a point.

It’s complicated. You haven’t really tried it out because … the simple answer is, you’re afraid. It gets tricky once you try to search for the answer to that. There’s just a strange sensation when you try to use magic, like there’s a vast sea of possibilities and one step inside is enough to get you lost. It isn’t as bad with wind spells or white magic. You haven’t touched Fire spells because a crippling fear chills you to the bones every time you manage to nourish a small flame inside your palm—the complete opposite to Dark magic. When you tried a MiasmaΔ for the first time it felt strangely … secure. The rope tying you to a shore, it had felt like—

There’s a loud crash when the spears collide and Claude knocks Dimitri off his feet. The whole room is silent as everyone watches how Claude taps the blunt end of his practice spear against Dimitri’s chin. “Steady on there, darling,” he says with a smug grin. Dimitri flushes bright red, and pushes with more force than necessary the spear away, quickly climbing to his feet.

“That wasn’t bad.” Byleth quickly steps in before Dimitri can throttle Claude. “Dimitri, you rely too much on your brute strength. That’s a big disadvantage against someone like Claude. And you, young man,” she turns to Claude who’s been smiling victoriously, “are scheming too much and lose time to take action. In a serious battle, you won’t be as lucky as today.”

“Noted.” Claude whirls his spear from left to right, almost dropping it when Dimitri drills his elbow into his side. “But in a serious battle, I won’t be upfront. I’ll be hanging back nicely, and skewing my enemies with a myriad of arrows.”

“You can barely shoot three at the same time,” Dimitri grumbles, his cheeks still splotched with red specks.

“You wanna bet—”

“That’s enough, guys, save it for then next round.” Byleth ignores their sulky expressions and turns to you, raising a single eyebrow. The message is clear. What are you waiting for?

Your feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. Edelgard doesn’t hesitate at all. “Let’s go.”

She strides in the middle, training axe raised. It’s made out of wood, but you don’t doubt that she’s able to severe a limb from your body if she only tries hard enough—and what you know of Edelgard is that she alwaysexceeds even her own expectations. You grip your sword tighter. It’s a clear disadvantage, but better than anything else you can handle. Maybe it won’t be as bad.

The fight lasts for about seven seconds. The moment you raise the blade, Edelgard is on you and unleashes fierce strike after strike, the power behind each hit forcing you back. She doesn’t bat an eyelash when she easily disarms you, the wooden sword flying over your heads and the edge of her axe on your throat. Somewhere behind her, you hear Byleth sigh. “Again.”

The next hour is torture. Edelgard throws you to the ground, again and again. Byleth keeps telling you to get up, again and again. One might think they would cut you some slack, being the Herald and all, but it feels like Edelgard is so much more aggressive today because you’re the Herald. Or maybe it’s personal. Maybe she’s appointed you to be her sworn enemy, and won’t miss out any chance to make it as hard as possible for you.

This isn’t fun. Being watched by Dimitri and Claude, who whisper conspiratorially to each other isn’t fun. Luckily, Byleth notices them gawking and bellows them to focus on working on their stances. Right now, you’re thankful nothing escapes her eyes and she calls her students out on their bullshit. It doesn’t make your current situation easier though. Every muscle burns, just raising the sword is exhausting and your feet feel like they’re about to give out any second. This must be hell.

When Byleth finally ends lessons, you ignore everything and crumble to the ground, splaying your limbs out in all directions. Surely they can clean up without you, two hands less will barely make any difference.

A shadow settles over you. You know who it is, and don’t bother to open your eyes. “Go away, Byleth. I don’t want to hear how bad I am.”

“Personally, I think you have improved, Herald.” Your eyes snap open. Dimitri looks down at you, his forehead still glistening from perspiration. “But facing Edelgard as an opponent usually wields those results. Don’t let it bother you.”

You want to point out that he and Claude don’t seem to have as much problems as you, even though yes, none of them have defeated her yet in practice. He goes down to your level and sits beside you, and you hate how this all barely made him breath hard, like it’s just a stroll around the monastery whereas you’re trying to climb the mountains surrounding it.

“I think she hates me,” you blurt out. Luckily, most students have already left the hall, Edelgard included. Dimitri considers this a moment, and you don’t know what to make of his lack of immediate response.

“I doubt she hates you,” he finally says.

“But?”

“But she has a hard time warming up to people. Give her time. Once the ice is broken, you will see that her personality is one you’d like to have around.”

“Oh?” You watch him for a moment, but Dimitri doesn’t blush or look away. It was a heartfelt, sincere statement, which flusters you for some reason. No one should be that honest.

“Talking about breaking ice. Do you know if something happened to Sylvain?”

“Sylvain?” Dimitri raises both eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me he harassed you in some kind of way.”

“No, no, he just—” You finally get up from lying on your back, and try to explain it by frantically moving your hands. Dimitri still looks puzzled. “He said some weird things about Crests in general?”

“Hm.” Dimitri stares at your hands for a moment, then quickly raises his eyes back to your face. “It’s complicated.” Well, that answer is as good as none. “And I won’t go into details without his consent. I can only say that if he talked about Crests, in whichever way, his brother must have upset him again.”

“He has a brother?” Now you’re wide awake. Many students have siblings. You know of Hilda’s brother and Raphael’s sister. It shouldn’t surprise you Sylvain has one as well even though he’s never mentioned it before.

“Do you have siblings?” you ask, generously curious. As heir to a kingdom, it’s hard to imagine his parents would have settled with one child. But he hasn’t mentioned any sisters or brothers as well.

“Hmm, I have a step-sister,” he says, although very hesitant and you can see if someone doesn’t want to talk about a specific topic. He doesn’t return the question, which is kind of him and makes you wonder … maybe you have a sibling as well. Somewhere. Maybe somewhere in Adrestia or Leicester a younger brother or an older sister is currently looking for you, unrelenting in their journey to be reunited at last. The thought alone brings a flicker of hope alive. Maybe they'll come once word of the Herald’s return travels far enough.

“I guess as long as Sylvain doesn’t disturb classes or acts out of order, I would leave him to his brooding. I can tell out of experience, only Felix is capable of cheering him up.”

“Felix?” Your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Are we talking about the same Felix?”

A smile forms on Dimitri’s mouth. “I understand why imagining that might prove difficult, but I assure you, Felix is one of the view exceeding in handling the mess Sylvain is from time to time.”

“Felix and Ingrid?” you guess, earning a nod from Dimitri. “Ingrid is a very nice girl,” you continue, picking at a loose thread from your uniform. “But Felix seems detests me. Every time he sees me, he looks like he wants to throw his sword at me.”

“That is—” Dimitri stops mid-sentence. “That might be not so far off from his true intentions.”

You groan.

“But I assure you it is for a different reason than you think. Felix is simply … difficult with people holding a commanding position.”

“He doesn’t seem to have the same problem with Byleth,” you point out. No, whenever he trains with her, he manages something close to a smile and accepts her guidance. Then again, she isn’t his teacher.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to make him consider his opinion on you during the Mock Battle. I as well am looking forward to how you will guide us.” Dimitri beams. You stare at him like he’s just lost his head.

“What?”

“The Mock Battle three nights from today?” Dimitri’s smile falters a little. “Have the Professor and Lady Rhea not told you yet? You are to participate in the Mock Battle as the commanding unit of the Blue Lions.” Now he’s pulling his eyebrows together in worry. “Herald?”

“I—” You jump to your feet. “I have to go.” Go far far away. Just yesterday you introduced the students to the tactic called Feigned Withdrawal, which involves staging a retreat in order to induce the enemy to abandon its position and plunge ahead in an attack. Dimitri abandons his position, getting up to go after you, but instead of turning back to surprise him with an ambush, you flee the battle and hope the enemy doesn’t pursue.

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khaotic-kitsunes · 4 years ago

Text

Arrival

You know what? You can blame this part on the lovely @himawari-senpaii for not only fueling my dumbass energy, but for also helping me figure out what the cabin should look like and what I’ll be doing in future chapters~

Seriously though, this was SO much fun to write and I was hella thankful for the input! Though I am feeling like a zombie now, so Imma go crash for god knows how long and then when I wake up, I’ll write some more scenarios!

🥃 AO3 🥃

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

“Taishiro, remember when you said the word little to describe your cabin in the mountains?”

Taishiro hummed in acknowledgement as he filled his arms with the bags that the two of you had brought with you, refusing to let you anywhere near them when you moved to help; leaving you to instead stare with wide eyes and an open mouth at the not-so-little cabin he had told you about yesterday.

It was more like a large house than a small cabin. Made of stone and brick with windows so large, it left little privacy for the two of you during your visit over the weekend; with no sign of any curtains what-so-ever.

Even so, you had to admit it was a beautiful building. A modern design hugged closely by the surrounding forest; blanketed in a thick layer of snow that made it seem like a winter wonderland.

“This is not little…” He chuckled at your mumbled words, now standing beside you with all of the luggage tucked under his large arms; leaving his hands free to get his keys. Searching through his pockets until a light jingle rang out, the sound sourced from his pocket.

“It is compared to my beach cabin…” You blinked at his comment, staring at the building in front of you before turning your head to stare up at your giant lover; your mouth dropping open in astonishment. It was so easy to forget that he was a mafia boss, right up until the point he showed you his ‘little’ cabin; your home back in the city was considerably smaller than this.

The thought making you dread the idea of how he viewed your modest house; after all, he was constantly smacking his head into the doorframes.

“Careful (Name), leave your mouth hanging open like that and I might just take it as an invitation…”

He trailed off as he walked towards the front door, fiddling around with his keys before unlocking and opening the rather large wooden door; amazing you when you noticed that it was taller than Taishiro was. You couldn’t help but wonder if the house was built specifically for his needs.

“Especially since there’s no one out here to hear you scream” He grinned back at you when you jolted, his words snapping you out of the mental curiosities that you could think about later in the day. His words were meant to be playful; you could tell that much with ease, but given that he was a well-known and feared mafia boss. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever put those words to the test in a different setting.

“Don’t get too excited, if you exhaust yourself too much with my mouth then we won’t have nearly as much fun as we could” You smiled up at him coyly, walking past before he could act on the flare of challenge that you had watched form in his honey-golden eyes; a look you could learn to love given his previous encounters with you.

“But seriously…who else knows about this place?” You hummed out the question with vague curiosity as you walked into what appeared to be the loungeroom, already impressed with the giant couch. Though it looked more like Taishiro had had a part of the floor replaced with cushions, the edges of the giant floor-cushion rectangle having multiple places to prop yourself up into a sitting position; the entire set-up facing a large fire-pit that would certainly keep you warm once it was going. A unique way to adjust for Taishiro’s height, that was for sure.

“No one, well not counting the men that built it…but that was a long time ago and this cabin is always empty unless I decide I need a break from my subordinates” You turned your head to look over at Taishiro, moving to follow him when you noticed him walking away already; though to where you had no idea. Perhaps the bedroom? Either way, if you wanted to find out, you would have to follow him.

“…It’s still not little…but it is a beautiful home Taishiro, especially in the winter” Taishiro laughed as he stopped by a large bench, setting down a few bags you recognised to hold the clothing that the two of you had brought on the trip; the rest of the bags going with him as he disappeared through a large, heavy looking metal door.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s quite spacious!” His cheery laughter was contagious, causing a smile to spread across your lips; enjoying the care-free Taishiro that had arrived at the cabin with you.

“Taishiro, this kitchen bench is so big…solid too, I bet you could use it as a bed and fit!”

You ran your fingertips over the smooth marble surface of the bench, admiring the fine craftsmanship before letting out a loud squeal of surprise, Taishiro having pinned you down flat against the smooth surface; grinding himself against your arse until you began to squirm beneath him. The action halting his advances while he cursed above you, large hands keeping you in place.

“It could fit me, I can’t argue that…but I think you’d look much better on it, especially since this is where we’ll be eating all our meals” He leaned down to nibble on your ear, his hot breath making you shiver beneath him in anticipation; easily catching onto his hidden meaning.

“Taishiro, you could fuck me like this for all I care…but don’t start something unless you plan on finishing it. We have an entire weekend to ourselves and I’m not wasting it on teasing touches that lead to nowhere” You pressed yourself back against him as you spoke to make your point even further, gasping when he returned the gesture, his erection grinding up against you.

“Now that sounded like an invitation, sweetheart…” His voice dipped into a low rumble while his hands moved from your arms, down to the edges of your pants, giving a light tug to reveal his intentions.

“It most certainly was. You aren’t the only one eager for some fun” You turned your head away from him, smiling when you felt him slide your pants down; allowing you to kick them off to the side, thankful that the house seemed to be pre-heated. Knowing Taishiro, he probably had some kind of app on his phone for such comforts.

“Mm, can see that…you’re dripping for me already” He chuckled as he dragged two fingers across your soaked folds, enough to tease you before he set about stripping himself of the clothes that he found to be too restrictive for the current set of activities he had in mind for the two of you.

“…About all the windows…” You trailed off, peeking back at him while Taishiro leaned down to kiss your cheek, a reassuring smile decorating his features; enough to settle the nerves that had built up within your chest.

“I own the reserve that this place is built on, I mean, legally it’s anonymously owned to the public…but it’s mine. Which means that we’re the only two people for miles around, it’s just the two of us and whatever wild animals that happen to live in the area” You nodded slightly at his explanation, leaning back into his chest while he rubbed against your folds slowly; dragging your attention back to the task at hand.

“Feel that, baby?” Taishiro dropped his voice down to a whisper, leaning down against your back and pressing you into the bench once again; slowly grinding himself against you until you let out a small noise of frustration. Annoyed to have him tease you like that.

“I brought you hear so that we can spend some time together, just the two of us…and I fully intend on fucking you in every room of this cabin. In every way I possibly can. Think you can take it?” You rolled your eyes at his question, pushing yourself back against him once more before gasping out when he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you steady as he thrust into you; groaning low at the way your body squeezed down on him.

“That’s my girl…I swear, you’re as bad as I am” He chuckled lightly, placing a kiss on your shoulder before using the arm around your waist to lift your hips ever-so-slightly; the result being you screaming out his name when he thrust his hips again, his thick dick pressing up against your spot mercilessly. Simply rubbing up against it while he held you in place, giving a light roll of his hips, seemingly enjoying the whine that escaped you.

“Taishi…” You squirmed against his hold, squeezing your eyes shut when he began to thrust his hips, greedily drinking in your appearance while you bounced on his cock; your cries quickly filling the quiet room.

“You’re so cute when you’re whining in need baby, keep doing it. For me?”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as he spoke, unable to stop yourself from moaning and crying out with each thrust of his hips; instead deciding to ride out the pleasure he was showering you with.

“Turn around for me baby” Taishiro groaned as he removed himself from you, slowly setting you back down onto your feet and watching you as you turned to face him; your clueless look spurring him to steal your breath away with a hungry kiss. Swallowing any complaints that you might have had before you could voice them.

“Up we go~” Taishiro lifted you up onto the counter, sitting you on the very edge before stepping between your legs and moving his hands to guide your legs around his waist; a silent instruction for you to keep him close.

“You probably want this out the way, huh?” You smiled as you reached down, fiddling with the buttons that kept your chest hidden from Taishiro’s hungry gaze; finding great amusement in the way his attention dropped straight to your hand, watching eagerly and waiting for you to undo the shirt he had leant you.

“Baby…you’ve got three seconds before I tear that top open with my fucking teeth” Taishiro growled out in frustration, his eyes never leaving your hand as you played with the buttons; deciding against undoing them. It would be so much more amusing to watch him tear the shirt away.

“Please do~” You giggled when he dipped his head, lightly nipping at your fingers until you moved your hand out of the way; allowing him to grab a hold of the shirt with his teeth before giving a harsh yank away from your body. Absolutely ruining the shirt by forcing all of the buttons to tear off of the shirt, flying in every which way; leaving your chest bare to Taishiro’s gaze.

“Taishiro?”

He hummed in response, laying you onto your back on the bench before taking your sensitive nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub; pulling a sweet moan from your lips, your back arching up and pushing your chest further into his face. Encouraging his actions.

“Look at you…beautiful…” Taishiro mumbled the words, thrusting his hips forwards harshly and burying himself inside of you; rolling your nipple between his teeth carefully, the sensation sending a spark of electricity racing down your spine.

You ignored his ramblings, instead tangling your fingers in his golden locks, tugging harshly until he got the message, his thrusts growing more erratic; more power behind them while his assault on your chest grew less forgiving.

Leaving a trail of bitemarks as he took the time to appreciate your body.

“Impatient, aren’t you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, tugging at his hair before gasping out when he slapped his hand against your thigh harshly; grinning widely at the flustered look that decorated your otherwise pleasure-filled features.

“Oh, baby…you liked that didn’t you?” You bit your bottom lip, hesitantly nodding your head in response moments before he slapped your thigh again; pulling another noise from your lips. This time, a mewl that had his heart racing.

“Fuck…you haven’t made that noise for me before…” He trailed off, leaning down and stealing your lips in a demanding kiss, his eagerness showing through the way he thrust his hips; putting more power behind the thrusts until you were slowly sliding further onto the bench.

“Taishi…!” You whined out his name into the kiss, crying out when his hands closed down on your hips, dragging you back down to meet his thrusts; the force behind the action feeling absolutely magical.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going baby? I’m not even close to being done with you!” He grunted from the building pleasure, burying his face against your chest and nipping at your boobs to distract himself; the action both cute and frustrating.

“Taishi…hey, come on…” You whined out his name, arching your back as he continued to pull you down against him to meet his thrusts, each time sending a jolt of electricity throughout your body; slowly pushing your orgasm closer and closer until finally, Taishiro’s name fell from your lips in a cry of ecstasy.

“That’s it, ride out your orgasm baby. Let me hear you!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out when he slapped his hands down against your thighs, giving you a moments rest from his harsh thrusts before he dragged you back down against him; your thighs still stinging from his harsh slaps.

Though you enjoyed every moment of his eccentrics.

“You sound amazing (Name), crying out like that…make sure you say my name next time, got it? Nice n’ loud!”

~ ~ ~

You whimpered out Taishiro’s name brokenly as your back arched, your entire body trembling while he squeezed your tender thighs, causing you to try and close your legs around his head despite the fact he was still teasing your clit mercilessly; enjoying the soft whimpers and whines that fell uncontrollably from your lips.

“Mm…delicious as always baby girl” Taishiro hummed in satisfaction, sliding your legs off of his broad shoulders while he stood to his proper height; licking his lips clean of your juices. Taking a moment to admire how beautiful you looked sprawled out on the kitchen bench like you were; a dazed, half-lidded look in your eyes. Not quite here yet certainly not far away enough where you could ignore the almost endless orgasms that he had put you through since arriving at his private cabin.

“Still with me (Name)?” Taishiro reached out, tenderly cupping your cheek while you lifted your gaze drowsily; barely able to focus on the man that had most certainly overstimulated you.

“You did such a good job baby…now, come on, it was a long drive and you look exhausted…I think a nap might do us both some good” Taishiro lifted you into his arms carefully, pressing his lips to your forehead in a tender show of affection before making his way through the cabin; uncaring that the both of you were naked.

It was just the two of you and he thought you were beautiful, there was no point hiding you away behind clothes when he would just tear them off of you again later on, once you had recovered from his touches.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wake you up for dinner. Get some rest, (Name).”

#fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum x reader #toyomitsu x reader #taishiro x reader #bnha x reader #reader x fatgum #reader x taishiro #reader x toyomitsu #mafia au #mafia!fatgum #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #scenario #smut #requests #cheeky kitsune

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iamapoopmuffin · 4 years ago

Text

Angst But It’s Team Chaotix

Fandom: Sonic The Hedgehog Genre: Angst (obvs) with a little bit of hurt/comfort Characters: Charmy Bee, Espio the Chameleon, Vector the Crocodile, Sonic the Hedgehog, Amy Rose, Miles ‘Tails’ Prower Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, trafficking, child abuse, descriptions of major injuries

Kidnappers in Seaside City set their sights on some rare specimens sure to net them a good price, and are none too happy when they try and make their escape. Team Chaotix are hot on the trail, with some back up from old friends, but time slips away all too quickly and with one of their own at risk, arriving just moments too late could have catastrophic consequences.

The world around him swam and blurred, hazing through various degrees of out of focus. Never quite in. He was face down on the ground. It was warm. He expected cold, but the ground was warm, like hot sand on a beach. And it hurt. His hand hurt, his head hurt, it really hurt. A sharp, throbbing pain, worse than anything he'd ever felt before. His instinct was to raise his hand, his good one, up to his head, to where it hurt, but he had to move first. Something dripped down the edge of his helmet and onto his face, and he squeezed his eyes shut, closing out the wavering, nauseating world.

Charmy lay still for several minutes, gritting his teeth, breathing in shattered sobs. He was crying. It hurt so much, he was crying. It took a lot of courage to get his good hand underneath him, to push himself up, and the movement made him feel very ill. He wanted to throw up. Scratch that, he was going to throw up.

"V-Vector...Espio?" Charmy tried to call out for them once he'd finished gagging, but it came out more as a whimper. His own voice sounded strange, like it was muffled, or through a filter. He managed to open his eyes, tried to look around. Couldn't see anyone. A long corridor stretched out in front of him. He raised his hand, feeling over his helmet, trying to work out why blood was on top of it. Because that was what was dripping down his face and onto his shoulders, it was blood. He was bleeding. His hand ghosted over his left antenna...or rather, where his left antenna should have been. He cried out again as a fresh wave of agony shot from the point of contact, and a panicked voice in his head managed to make itself heard. The antenna was gone. It just...wasn't there.

What were you supposed to do when you woke up somewhere weird, all by yourself, a part of your body missing and everything hurting, no memory of what happened beforehand, no clue who had hurt you or why? He knew when he'd grazed a knee or something, Vector would sometimes put a sticky plaster on it, one with smiley faces. Smiley faces would be nice right now. And Vector, if Vector was here it would be better. Or Espio. Or even Knuckles. Just anyone.

But when he called for them, there was no answer. No-one came to get him. So Charmy did the only sensible thing for a six year old to do in such a situation. He cried harder.

------

The whole thing started as a report of kidnappings in the area. It was two little girls playing together not too far from the docks, supervised by one of their mothers. The mother said someone had grabbed her from behind and held a funny smelling rag over her mouth and nose, and as she struggled and fell unconscious, another man grabbed the children. All she knew for sure was that it was a man with blue fur.

Team Chaotix hadn't been officially tasked with this particular case, it had been taken straight to the police. Still, with this happening so close to their detective office, keeping their eyes open for a clue that could help find these two girls couldn't hurt.

Things became a bit more personal when the same man with the blue fur grabbed Charmy as well.

Having witnessed the kidnapping and having been assaulted by the kidnapper's buddies, Vector and Espio had a much more solid lead to follow, and promised to rescue not just Charmy, but the two missing girls as well. Having been injured in the attack, when they narrowed down their search to the most likely place, they brought some back up in the form of some good friends used to playing the role of hero.

At this point, Charmy had been missing a little over a day, and the two girls for two and a half. The search party/investigation team arrived at a strange complex. The kidnapped girls were found locked in a room, unharmed but obviously frightened and greatly distressed. They revealed to their rescuers that the boy who had been with them had helped them try to escape, but the man with the blue fur had caught him again and had threatened to hurt him if the girls didn't do as told. They didn't see him after they were locked back in the room, but they were pretty sure he struggled and one said she saw him try and bite the man.

At around the same time, Sonic, who had accompanied the Chaotix on this particular venture, claimed to have found the kidnapper and two cohorts and to have apprehended them. The three refused to tell him where Charmy was, and further pressing from Vector and Espio only got the kidnapper to say he found the child incredibly annoying. One of the other two insisted their boss had taken the child downstairs, and that they weren't privy to the exact whereabouts. The second had cursed out his friend for spilling.

Tails and Amy took it upon themselves to escort the two girls home, and Sonic assured them he would be right back as soon as he'd deposited the criminals in a secure place. With that, Vector and Espio ventured into the lower levels to find Charmy.

The first clue they found was a telltale patch of blood on an old rickety staircase that creaked every time they so much as looked at it. The blood was dry to the touch, and led into a renovated basement level that now seemed to serve as a recreational room of some sort. Under a locked trap door beneath a lumpy carpet was a narrow corridor with more blood, a patch on the floor and a swathe on the wall made by a little hand. This blood wasn't completely dry, and so must have been less than an hour old. As unnerving as this trail was, they were on the right track. It seemed this area was used purely for storage of old and broken objects, possibly adjacent to a boiler room, and there were plenty of small, tight spaces to hide. They made sure to keep an eye out for him as they searched.

And there, tucked into a tight space in a cluttered corner, was Charmy. He was shivering violently and whimpering. Vector bolted to his side, kneeling close and trying to reach into that tight space. "Charmy, hey, Charmy, can you hear me?"

"Vec...Vector?" The bee shifted until Vector could see his eye, red from crying so hard.

"Yeah, kid, I'm here. Are you hurt?"

"Hhhh..." The sound was more of a breathy, shuddering moan than a proper reply. Vector shifted back, holding both arms out.

"Come here, Charmy, let me see."

"...It hurts..."

"I know. Come here, let me see."

With some hesitation, he managed to coax the child out of his hiding place, and felt his heart drop as he saw the damage. Charmy's left hand was clearly broken. It was swollen, and three of the fingers were at an unnatural angle. He had blood drying on his face and his left antenna wasn't visible. Vector gently tilted the boy's head, trying to get a better look. There was a crack across the helmet as well. A slight dent. There must have been one hell of an impact against the poor kid's head. This was not something Vector knew how to deal with, this was...this was bad. A look back at his company told him Espio wasn't sure how to manage this sort of damage either. He took a steadying breath and placed his hands on Charmy's cheeks, trying to get him to look him in the eye.

"Okay, Charmy, I...I'm going to take off your helmet to get a better look at your head, okay? I'll try and do it without hurting you, but it might hurt just a teeny, tiny bit, okay?"

"No! No, don't make it hurt! I don't want it to hurt any more! I want the hurt to stop!" He started to squirm and Vector pulled him in, getting a proper grip on him to prevent him scrabbling away.

"It will stop, I promise, but first I need to see why it hurts, okay?"

"I want to go home!"

"We're going home. We'll head home as soon as I'm done checking you over, okay?"

"I'm here too." Espio assured him, moving in closer, hiding his clenched fists from the child's view, not wanting to concern him. "We've apprehended the one who did this to you. You're safe now, and rest assured you did well. The other children are safe as well."

That seemed to calm him a little. He was still crying, still shaking, but he wasn't trying to escape or pull away. In fact, he rested his head against Vector's chest, seeking warmth and comfort. He held onto the larger figure, gripping tight as if scared his friends, his family, might disappear if he let them. Vector took this as his opportunity to remove the helmet, wincing when this caused Charmy to cry out again. He passed the helmet behind him, for Espio to hold, and took a close look at the damage. Around the area the helmet had cracked was a nasty-looking swelling, and a bloodied stump was all that remained of his antenna. The mere thought of someone doing this, of causing so much pain and damage to one of his boys, of leaving the kid to suffer...it made his blood boil. It made him angrier than he'd ever remembered feeling before, and it also scared him. He hadn't been there when Charmy had needed him, and this was the result. This would change the kid's entire life, his entire future, an injury this bad.

"Vector. We need to take him to a doctor."

"I know." He growled back. "How fast do you think you can get him to one?"

"On foot by myself to Seaside City? Two hours. One-forty-five if lucky."

"Not good enough. Get Sonic."

"Roger."

He disappeared back up the trap door, and Sonic soon took his place, promising to get Charmy to a hospital safe and sound. Tails would return in his plane to pick Vector and Espio up and take them to the same hospital, as it would be faster than having them make their own way back on injured feet. When the doctor overseeing Charmy's treatment spoke to Vector, she made a few things clear. The damage to his head likely would have killed him had he not been wearing a helmet at the time, the missing antenna would almost certainly result in permanent hearing loss on the affected side, there was a possibility the broken bones in his hand and fingers could require surgical intervention to heal properly and they were, of course, going to keep him in until they were absolutely sure he was good to go. The exact damage to his brain and what effects it would have in the long term was still uncertain, and he would have to be monitored in regards to that as well. Overall, far from the best outcome, but still not the worst. He wasn't in danger of dying, at least, but if only, he kept thinking...if only he could have stopped this, made it so Charmy never got hurt at all.

#Also I just want you all to know the doctor at the end is a nurse shark #Also I couldn't think up a title at all #sonic the hedgehog #team chaotix #charmy bee #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #amy rose #miles tails prower #trigger warning #As with just about everything else I write I absolutely hate this #I don't know if they get free healthcare in Sonic's world or if Vector's going to be hit with medical bills he can't pay #It's sad dad times for Vector #Was originally going to have Knuckles Mighty and Ray but they got cut to make things easier on me #Also they were there before a major part of the story changed completely

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