#its one of those T handles where one side is a little shorter than the other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pengychan · 3 years ago

Text

[The Great Ace Attorney] A Case of Identity - Prologue

Summary: On that fateful night in Lowgate cemetery, the bullet finds its target in Enoch Drebber. When he awakens he's locked behind an iron mask, facing a lifetime of imprisonment as the mass murderer who survived a botched execution - the Professor. However, help is afoot. Characters: Enoch Drebber, Esmeralda Tusspells, Herlock Sholmes, Yujin Mikotoba, Tobias Gregson, Mael Stronghart, Gina Lestrade Rating: T

Prologue and all other chapters will be tagged as ‘case of identity’ on my blog.

A/N: Let's be honest, shooting the witness that night would have made a lot more sense. This idea hit me over the head with a spoon until I gave in and decided to write it. I gave in pretty quickly.

***

Give me a lever and a place to stand, Archimedes of Syracuse had once said, and I shall move the world.

The boast of being able to move the world may be a slight exaggeration, of course, but Enoch Drebber understood the principle perfectly. As long as the distance from the fulcrum to the object in need of moving - in this case, a stone slab - is shorter than the distance between the fulcrum and the input force - in this case, him - the lever - in his case, a spade - amplifies the input force, and makes heavy objects relatively easy to move.

Relatively being the key word there, because it couldn’t be argued that lifting the stone slab covering the freshly-dug grave was precisely easy. Enoch knew where his strengths lay, and his muscles was not it; he’d have better luck counting on his own meager weight to prove Archimedes right and move, if not the world, at least that damned slab.

Possibly before the guardian of the cemetery happened to walk by, spot what little light emanated from Enoch’s oil lantern, and caught him in the act. It would force him to flee empty-handed and maybe even abandon his spade there, and Hell knew he didn’t even have money to buy another one.

Things would be a lot easier if he had money to bribe the man, clearly, but lack of money was precisely the reason why he was there in the first place. Graverobbing was unpleasant work but always worth it in the end, with coin to last him a good month or even two as long as he was wise in his spending. Some of his fellow students did not see it that way, saying that all the money in the world was not worth the nightmares, or eternal damnation, or whatever it was they feared most.

As luck would have it, Enoch Drebber held no more belief in divine retribution than he did in ghost stories; if not for the risk of being caught, he’d fear those nocturnal walks across cemeteries in the faint light of a lantern no more than walking down the halls at university. Whether it had belonged to a murderer or a saint, a body was a body: a husk of flesh that no longer served a purpose, valuable to no one but the surgeon under whose scalpel it would fall and the students who’d learn from it. And to him, as a decent source of income.

It wouldn’t be long, either way. He was so close to graduation and soon all would be very different, with so much to look forward to. He could change the country, change the world. Within the next ten years, he imagined he’d--

A scraping sound of stone on stone interrupted his musings and brought him back to the present - on an uncharacteristically non-foggy night in the Lowgate cemetery, straining to push down onto the handle of his spade, the other end wedged in a crack beneath the slab that was finally widening.

Ah, Enoch thought, not a moment too soon.

A few more heaves, more scraping sounds, and Enoch was finally able to move it halfway to the side and reveal the coffin within. There was no layer of earth on it to dig out; unusual but, still panting a little for the exertion, he was only glad for it. He shoved the head of the spade in the crack beneath the lid, and pushed it down again. This time, it didn’t take much force.

Crack.

The sound of nails and cheap wood giving in was louder than Enoch would have liked and he stilled to look around, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, making sure he hadn’t been heard. The air was still, the night clear, and to his relief he could see no one: he was alone amongst the tombstones, no sign of the night guardian. Just him, and the faint flickering shadows cast by his oil lantern.

… Maybe it would be best to move it closer, though, to better see inside the coffin and make sure its light would attract no unwarranted attention. Enoch Drebber stood, spade still in hand, and went to pick up the lantern. His left hand had just closed around the handle when noises reached his ears, faint but unmistakable.

The squeal of a hinge being pushed open, a groan, someone moving around and wood splintering further...

… and again the scrape of stone on stone, as though the slab was being pushed further aside to… to...

No. It’s not true. It’s not happening.

Enoch Drebber was, at heart, a man of science. He believed only what he could see and touch to be real, and only what precise calculations and proven theories told him was possible to be possible. Corpses did not, could not, sit up and leave their graves. It was a scientific impossibility. The dead did not return to life, and the temperature in London on a warm Spring night could not drop by a dozen degrees within seconds.

And yet something was moving behind him, and the sheen of sweat on his skin seemed to have turned into frost. Suddenly, the hand holding the lantern shook so hard the tiny flame was almost extinguished. If that happened and he was left in darkness, Enoch was sure, no amount of logic and good judgment in the world could keep him from screaming.

Above him, dark clouds hid the moon. Behind him strone scraped against stone once more, followed by a noise that chilled him to the bone, carried by a faint wind.

“Uugh…”

Run.

No. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s someone trying to scare me off-- the guardian, another grave robber, some urchins from the slums--

He should have ran, dropped the lantern and spade and just left the cemetery as fast as his legs could carry him, but he did not and he would live to regret it. As his rational mind desperately fought to cling to a logical explanation and keep the growing panic at bay, Enoch Drebber gathered his courage and turned, mouth dry, to lift the lantern with a shaky hand.

“Who--” he began, but his voice died in his throat. There in the flickering light, face covered by an iron mask and halfway out of his grave, was the corpse. Enoch strained to open his mouth, to cry out, but no sound left him as he watched a dead man climb out of his coffin. The thing’s eyes seemed to shine from the dark abysses of the mask’s eyes, and Enoch knew they were fixed on him. It may have made him tremble, if he wasn’t frozen on the spot.

Divine retribution, he thought. They'll find me in the morning. I will make the papers sooner than I thought I would.

No!

A faint sigh of wind hit his face, chilling him through. A scream tried to claw its way through Enoch’s throat, but something held it back. He stared, eyes wide and terror paralyzing every limb, now certain he would die unless he could force his voice out; the silence and darkness all around him suddenly felt unbearable, suffocating, pushing down on him like gravity. He struggled to draw breath through the obstruction in his throat, and tried to scream.

He never got the chance: another sound cut through the silence of the night before he could.

BANG.

Something hit Enoch Drebber’s back with stunning force, sending him sprawling on the ground with scarcely a sound. He dimly heard his lantern shattering, but he didn’t get to see its light being snuffed out: his face was pressed in the dirt, and he didn’t have the strength to lift his head. The smell of earth filled his nostrils, along with another smell his mind refused to identify as blood. His back burned, but it was a distant burn with little pain as he tethered on the edge of unconsciousness. His fingers dug into the earth, but he was unable to move.

He’ll take me to Hell, he thought. Someone help me, he tried to call out, and again he could make no noise. He faintly heard something over the ringing in his ears - steps, someone’s voice - but he couldn’t make out any words. Enoch’s eyes fell shut and he let the dark claim him, utterly certain he would never awaken again.

He was wrong.

He’d wish he hadn't been.

***

Earth. He smelled earth and blood, something was

d r a g g i n g him

away from where he’d fallen

where had he fallen

why had he fallen

and whatever it was

the corpse

he was powerless to stop it. He was cold

so so cold

and couldn’t move, his tongue remained a dead weight in his mouth, his eyes remained shut as he

f e l l

and hit something hard, a clang of metal on wood

why metal and why was his head so heavy

covering his faint groan. It had felt like such a long fall, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was not. A hole in the ground large enough for a coffin was not a long way to fall.

“Wrong place. Wrong time .”

A voice so. far. away. So far. So close.

Enoch’s eyes cracked open only a few moments to see the waning moon high above, a dark shadow blotting out most of it. A sigh.

“... Wrong target. Damned fool.”

Enoch Drebber tried to call out

help me

what happened

God

mother

someone

but his tongue did not move, his head was much too heavy, and his eyes slipped shut again. The creak of hinges, a lid slamming shut, and all was dark. Above him, the scrape of stone on stone

give me a lever

sealed him in, but Enoch did not hear it. For a time, he heard and felt nothing.

***

Air. A clack like a metal latch right by his ear and then cool night air blowing on his face brought Enoch back to a state of faint awareness. He breathed in, or tried to, because suddenly something

pressed

on his face, something soft and yielding, and he couldn’t breathe. He tried to push it off, but he couldn’t move, fingers barely twitching.

No no no stop please I’m sorry I’m so sorry someone help--

Then, as his lungs began to burn, the pressure was gone and air hit his face again. He drew breath in a shuddering gasp; above him, someone else gasped much louder.

“Mon Dieu!”

The clang of tools being dropped, a silence and stillness that seemed to stretch on forever. Beneath close eyelids, he realized a light was being shone on him. The voice came again, this time a whisper.

“This… how… blood…? What happened here?”

A soft touch on his forehead, so so cold

or maybe he was feverish

and another whisper. “Monsieur, what happened…?”

“Who goes there!”

Another voice, loud as thunder, and the touch on Enoch’s forehead was gone. He groaned again, and strained to open his eyes. In the faint glow of the lantern he saw there were two figures standing above him. Neither was trying to keep their voice down, but all sound still seemed to be coming from so far away, words barely intelligible and blurring together.

“... doing here…”

“... still alive, call the wardens…”

“... botched the hanging, clearly…”

“... buried him alive…?”

“... will answer for the mistake…”

“... how…?”

“... none of your concern… national interest…”

Enoch groaned again, and tried to move. His body was too heavy, and something behind his shoulder hurt, a burning pain that seemed to flare all the brighter the more he regained consciousness. “H-- help--”

He managed to force out the word in a husky whisper, causing the two dark figures to fall quiet and look at him. The larger one, a man, heaved a sigh. “... Go fetch the guardian and tell him to warn the prison wardens at once. We will discuss your trespassing later.”

“I… oui. Right away.”

The woman seemed to pause a moment before she ran off, picking something up from the ground, but Enoch didn’t see what it was and neither did the man. Suddenly he was kneeling over him, blocking out the moonlight, staring down at him with piercing eyes. The oil lantern's light flickered across his features as he grimaced, pulling his lips in a tight line.

“Yes, Professor,” he said, very quietly. “It is clear that the execution was botched.”

The… the Professor, the infamous mass murderer? A botched execution? Then maybe… maybe he hadn’t seen a corpse return to life. The man-- the murderer -- was never dead. It happened rarely, but neither botched hangings nor men buried alive were unheard of. There were stories among grave robbers of such instances, bodies found with bloodied fingers from trying to scratch their way out, but Enoch regarded them as nothing more than legends.

After that night, he never would again. He had let a murderer out in the streets, the monster had tried to kill him and left him for dead. And now he was out there, he was… he was...

“A-- alive…” Enoch managed, his usually nimble mind struggling to put the pieces together. The man nodded gravely.

“Yes, unfortunately. You should not be alive. This is going to be a dreadful headache.” A shake of his head, and the man reached to pick something up from the ground - the iron mask that had been on the murderer’s face when he’d emerged from the grave, now open like a beast’s maw. The mere sight of it made Enoch shudder.

“T-the Professor, I saw… I…!” he choked out, trembling.

A long sigh, and the man nodded again. “Oh, yes. I know,” he said. Suddenly the mask was over Enoch’s head, and closed with a clack. He made a noise of surprise, looking at the man’s face; his expression remained unreadable. What… what was going on? Was he listening to him?

“The Professor--” Enoch tried again, struggling and failing to hold up his head. A large hand on his chest kept him from trying to rise, his head spun, and he knew he wouldn’t be conscious for long.

“No need to repeat your title, Professor,” the man said, and reached for the mask again. Another sound, like a key being turned into a lock, and those blue eyes once again bore into his. There was no joy nor sorrow in that unwavering gaze: only a steely resolve more terrifying than anything else he'd seen that night.

Enoch's own vision swam and everything went dark again, the next words barely reaching him as he felt himself sink into nothingness.

“We know exactly who you are.”

***

[Next]

#the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #enoch drebber #dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa spoilers #mael stronghart #esmeralda tusspells #dgs2 spoilers #case of identity

30 notes · View notes

midnightmoonkiss · 5 years ago

Text

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Masturbation Hc’s

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shōto

WARNINGS!: NSFW

Heh.. i lied.. when i said i’d never do nsfw...

I’m a fool. A fool, I say.

College au even tho its never really mentioned ! Tho tbh i honestly think ua shoulda been a college either way smh

Also I got too carried away with Izuku’s, so Shōtos is shorter-

Midoriya Izuku

First of all, he’s a big boi

Quite possibly owns one of the biggest dicks in class

6.5in when flaccid, but roughly 7.8in when fully erect - impressive!

Not only is he huge, but he’s honestly so adorable. Curves upwards towards the left a bit and gets super flushed!

He oozes quite a bit of precum, but it honestly works out in his favor since it helps him slick his hand up and down the shaft - not a good solution but still better than spit if he’s in a pinch!

Circumcised!

Midoriya doesn’t typically masturbate as much as one would expect from someone his age, maybe two or three times a month, depending on how stressed out he is. Either way, he’d much rather take a bubble bath than jerk his meat. Though, some nights he wakes up from an intense.. dream.. legs and boxers covered in goop.

Its really embarrassing to him, though it does theoretically help his confidence in himself a bit - especially with the thought of what he could do to you and how easily he thinks he could make you cum, which he probably could. This man does his research!

Porn. A shit ton of porn. Someone clear his browser history ffs.

Most of the time its the little things that get him too worked up, perhaps your hand simply rested on his upper thigh, but the gesture already is too much for his overactive mind to handle

Hes a horny little shit who’s not used to being touched

Most of the time he’s got enough control to make it through classes without having to take drastic actions,

but sometimes a mans gotta lose his dignity in a bathroom stall, one hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his high pitched whines and moans, other hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as his hips thrust and hand moves up and down as he desperately searches for a quick release (see! This is where that ‘pinch’ before mentioned comes in!) so his bathroom break doesnt seem suspiciously long

How lewd and mortifying, but is it bad he likes the idea of potentially being caught? Not by himself, if course, but with you riding him on the seat. The wet slaps would echo throughout the restroom, notifying all who enter just what’s happening and that someone is getting what they so desperately wish they could.. well, what he also wishes he could get

He’s a bit.. possessive, even though you aren’t quite his yet

Though, if he can make it back to the dorms, he often times even forgets about the encounter and just goes on doing his homework or workout session.

Late at night when hes going to sleep is when he suddenly remembers the way you ‘caressed’ his upper thigh, nails dragging against the tensed muscles slightly as shock waves coursed down his spine at your teasing whispers in his sensitive ear

You wanted this to happen, didnt you? Naughty naughty.

His breath quickens, face flushed a deep red, already feeling himself grow half erect and straining against his sweatpants.

He felt like such a perv as he tugged only the grey fabric down, hand coming to lightly massage himself through his boxers, drawing a stuttered gasp at the contact

Glazed over eyes would slip shut, hips grinding against his hand

If he’s not too worked up, he’ll just use his hand to finish himself off, nice and slow. He always starts at the base, slick fingers gliding along throbbing veins as his dick becomes fully erect. This is prime time for experimentation with himself, but most of the time he just falls back into what usually gets him going. Man just wants to cum.

Sometimes he teases himself by gliding his thumb up and under the shaft, making his way to his reddened head, thumb grazing over his oozing, sensitive slit. Feels so nice, but if he does it too many times, game over. This never fails to draw a whimper from him, though

He’s really noisy? He doesnt even have to touch his dick to hum in pleasure, just his nips and / or inner thighs. You’d think he’d have extremely sensitive nips but theyre pretty tame compared to others

If he is worked up, lord help his pillow because he is going to be humping the ever-loving shit out of it, towel nearby to cum into as he prays he doesnt ruin the thing he reluctantly sleeps on.

But God are his eyes glued to you, face burning the next day as you hug that pillow during a friendly study session..

At this point, that pillow has a weird shape. All the stuffing has bunched up mainly towards the middle, which is honestly a plus for him because the extra hard cushioning around his throbbing cock makes it all the more real. Naturally, he’s dreaming of fucking you into his mattress. Oh, to claim you, making you beg to go faster- to rub his head against your private parts..

He’s discovered he can use his quirk to his benefit during this time, snapping his hips faster, green sparks illuminating his body as he gets closer and closer. How addicting it is.

His balls arent something he usually pays attention to tbh, but from time to time he occasionally massages them in his hand

Often times he cannot control himself from bucking the closer he gets, moans spilling out those sinful lips like a bitch in heat

Drool dribbles down his chin 9 out of 10 times, cheeks blazing, pupils blown wide hiding that beautiful emerald color, the most sinful sight to behold and he’d be so embarrassed if someone saw him in such a vulnerable state.

Did I mention he also likes to kiss his palm as he pleasures himself (without his pillow), pretending that he’s kissing your delicious lips and not some sweaty palm as you bounce up and down on his length, juices mixing together on his shaft

If he’s humping his pillow, he’s going to be biting it in an attempt to keep his volume down - pretty futile. Who said a dom can’t be noisy?

When all is said and done, and he’s cumming, all hell breaks lose in his body and he no longer cares how loud he is (Mineta has complained multiple times, much to Izukus horror) He always finds himself screeching something that sounds oddly like your name..

“..aH! Hah! (Y/)-AHHnnnGnn..!”

His cum is on the thicker side, and there’s usually always a large amount of it from slight build up. He tries to make as little a mess as possible, considering he gets extremely sleepy after a session, so he wants to go to bed right after and not worry about a mess.

Experimented with fingering his ass once or twice, covered in this lube he got, but both times it wasnt exactly pleasurable, even if he properly stretched himself. He can’t figure out why, especially since he wants to rub up against that special spot. Has thought about buying a dildo at some point. Maybe a fleshlight too..

Midoriya Masturbating = Sinful and Loud

Todoroki Shōto:

Not as long as Izuku, but definitely more girthy!

Roughly 5.8in long when flaccid and 6.2in when fully erect!

He is also circumcised, mainly because it was some wacky tradition in his family and not mainly considered for health reasons.

He doesnt leak a lot of precum, which works for him considering he thinks its a bit messy

He’s one of those dudes that masturbate cuz they know they have to to stay healthy, masturbating twice a week. He has a schedule.. kinda strange..

“Hey Todoroki! Want to go to a karaoke bar with us?” “Can’t. I have.. plans.”

For the most part, he’s not nearly as sensitive as Izuku. That, and he’s not that loud

Mostly just grunts and groans, maybe an occasional “hah..”

He tends not to stray from his schedule, unless he’s extremely frustrated of course. Those days when his dad is being a real stick in the mud are the days hes jerkin it like his life depends on it

When that special time does come, though..

Hes laying on his back on his futon, completely naked and legs spread for the most access

His nimble fingers glide down his body, a way for him to mentally prepare for the pleasure he so desperately craves because he too is a horny fuck

He likes to watch his ministrations though, analyzing how much pleasure he can get from doing certain things so he can do it again next time

An example would be twisting his hand up and down the shaft

He also like to use toys on himself?

Dads credit card comes in handy.

He’s got it all, lubes, dildos, nipple claps and vibrators, etc

It takes a while to work himself up to an orgasm, it can be kind of annoying if he really wants that high as soon as possible

Typically he doesnt thrust into his hands- unless his favorite vibrator is up his ass, pressed snug against his prostate

He gets real crazy when that happens, legs shaking slightly as he bites on his lips

He loves watching his body react to different things, its mesmerizing how good he can feel from something he’s doing

One time pressed a bullet vibrator against his head and right nipple at the same time and came immediately - it was truly a big shock to him , blacked out for a second and woke up covered in his own seed

Speaking of, his nipples are one of his most strongest sensitive points, so he tends to avoid them until hes getting closer to his release.

They may or may not leak a bit if man milk from time to time if he messes with them too much

Bought this sizzling lube and uses a bit of that when rubbing at his nipples, he doesnt like that funky dry feeling even though the burn from it feels just as good

So basically, his dick his hard , hips helplessly thrusting in the air, vibrating dildo pressed up inside him and fingers working his nip as he finally cums - letting out a silent scream with flushed cheeks. So cute.

Though, he is a pervert.

When doing all this shit, he imagines its you, sweet little innocent (Y/N) doing all these things to him

He’s such a brat, honestly

Whenever he finds new techniques on the internet, he stores them away for later use

That, and when he sees your legs in some particularly tight thigh high socks so he can look back on it and pretend he’s thrusting into those delicious thighs

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Such a slut for him~

Todoroki Masturbating = Kinky and Quiet

1K notes · View notes

katsukis-sad-angel · 5 years ago

Text

NighteyeSquadCanons; During and right after the Chisaki arc

Pairings: Mirai Sasaki x Reader, Mirio Togata x Reader, and Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: Same plot as my FatSquadCanons because I’m not creative

Warnings: Angst, slight smut, sweetness

BRUH THE GIF... I’M ALREADY CRYING

Mirai Sasaki

SFW

Ever since this thing with Eri and the Shie Hisaikai started, you’ve had a sense of impending doom

Every time he walks out the door, you’re afraid he won’t come back through it

Every time he cuddles with you at night or gives you kisses, you’re afraid you’ll never feel his warmth or the sweetness of his lips again

You beg him to stay home all the time, sometimes bursting into tears

But he always goes after drying your tears and assuring you he’ll be fine

You don’t believe him

You miss him so much

As soon as the door closes, you start crying again and run to your shared bed where you bury your face in his pillow

Spends a lot of time at his office

Comes home very late

When he comes home, he has to literally peel you off of him if he wants to move away from the door

You’re a lot shorter than him

He’s 6’7”

Big spoon

When he hugs you, he practically picks you up off the floor, or leans down to give you a kiss, or curls around you when its cuddling or sleeping time

He’s really lean and very muscley

When his button-down shirt and blazer came undone in the anime... WHEW sis had to pause and catch her breath

Some days, he’ll come home and you’re not there to greet him

He quickly discards his shoes and begins to search the apartment, looking for you

He finds you curled up on the bed and crying into your pillow with his pillow clutched to your heaving chest

“Mirai…” You whimper, squeezing the down pillow, “Please come home safe… I love you so much…”

“Y/n.”

You sit up, tears streaming down flushed cheeks

You attempt to scramble out of bed to get to him, but he gets to you first and pulls you into his arms, kissing you, whispering sweet things in your ear, and dabbing your tears away with his handkerchief

Yes

He carries those

They match his tie

Now he’s worried about you so he starts coming home as soon as possible so nights like those don’t happen

But they still do

A few evenings later, it is very late and you two just finished having sex

You had been trying to get pregnant for over a month now

He’s holding you close to his chest, kissing your ear and calming you down from your high

After taking a bath together, you two curl up in bed

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you m-”

DING

Nighteye picks up his phone and sees the message

He sighs

“What is it?” You ask softly, eyelids drooping

“I…” He exhales slowly, “I have to go darling.”

You sit up quickly. “Mirai! No! I really mean it this time, I-I have this horrible feeling… You… you might not come back, you might get hurt, y-you…”

You cover your face as tears begin to fall

Nighteye wraps his arms around you tightly, cradling your shivering body in his muscled arms

Rocks you back and forth, telling you he’d be fine and not to worry

With a final squeeze, he tucked you into bed and went to his closet to change into his suit and tie

You stare at the ceiling, tears streaming onto the pillow, your chest heaving and your heart pounding savagely, you choked on a sob and lurched from the bed before he could leave the room

Even with your sore legs, you manage to lock your limbs around his torso, begging him tearfully not to leave

“Mirai, please don’t go! I have a terrible feeling about this! I’m so afraid, pl-”

“Y/n.” He interrupts, effortlessly pulling you off and setting you on the bed, “I cannot stay with you, these antics need to stop. A little girl is in trouble. We have a solid plan to save her, so please stop worrying.”

He sounds upset, angry even.

His strict tone frightens you into silent tears

“Do not follow me out of this room. Go to sleep. No more crying or whining about your ‘gut feeling.’ I’m a pro hero for fuck’s sake. I can handle myself.”

With a final glare, he left, slamming the door behind him

You wilted

Mirai never cursed around you

He never spoke to you like that

You… you just wanted to protect him

Did he really not trust you?

You whimpered and crawled onto his side of the bed

It was still warm

You curled up, clutching his pillow and fell into a restless sleep

~hours later~

That morning you had woken up, feeling unwell

The first thing that popped into your mind made you shoot out of bed, limp to the bathroom, and take a pregnancy test

Positive

You prowled around the house, watching the news for any sign of Mirai, eating, and celebrating this long-awaited achievement all alone

You couldn’t wait until he came home and for the time being, you were content

No thoughts of your husband’s death plaguing your mind

But that didn’t last long

You received a call sometime after 12 pm

It was Bubble Girl

She spoke quickly to you, telling you to hurry to the College Hospital where your husband was being held in critical condition

When you got there, you were brought to a room where you were soon joined by All Might, Centipeder, Recovery Girl, Bubble Girl, a green-haired UA student, and Eraserhead.

A doctor came in and explained a few things, stating that your husband wouldn’t see tomorrow

As though in a trance, you were led into Mirai’s room

The dim light showed you his missing arm, the bandages, the oxygen mask, and the hundreds of shiny tubes protruding from his stomach

You let your palms rest on the rails of the bed, looking down at his handsome, pale face, wishing he’d open his eyes and say something

And he did

Your sweet perfume wafted to his nostrils, rousing him from his near sleep

He opened his golden eyes, black pupils watching as you fell to your knees next to his bed, succumbing to quiet sobs

“Y/n…” He rasped

Your head shot up and your (e/c) irises fixated on his ghostly features

“Mirai… You… You dumbass.” You cried, “I told you this would h-happen. I told you I told you I t-told you over a-and over again… I-I knew it. But every time I warned you, you just waved me off. Why? Why do you do this to me?”

“Darling,” Your husband, one hand feebly reaching toward you, “I know. You were right all along.”

“I’m pregnant!” You sniffed, angrily wiping your eyes, “N-Now you’ll never see the baby and I’ll be all alone.”

“You are? That’s… I’m so happy…” He smiled.

The hand came to rest on your stomach

“You’ll be… a good mother. Don’t worry…”

“Mirai… please don’t leave me here.” You whimpered, “I c-can’t do this without you!”

“Yes you can. Trust me.”

His eyes began to close and the hand that warmed your abdomen slipped back onto the bed

“Keep smiling. You have such a beautiful one, the whole world stops. You know that? I couldn’t ask for a better wife to put up with all of my antics.”

“Mirai…”

“Smile for me… one… last… time…

*smiles*

end

LOOK. AT. THOSE. GODLY. SHOULDERS!!!!!!!!!!!

Mirio Togata

SFW

Whew

Mmk gimme a sec to wipe my eyes

Let’s begin

Mirio Togata is the sun

He is your ray of sunshine in the morning, and you are his ray of moonlight in the darkness

He feels SO FUCKING GUILTY for letting Eri go…

That’s all he thinks about

Runs his giant hands though his golden locks, blue eyes fixated on the floor, laying rigidly in his bed, overthinking and wishing he’d made a better choice

You’ll find him like this often, curled up under the covers and talking down to himself

“You wanna save a million people? You can’t even save one little girl! You’re nothing but a-”

“Mirio?”

*comes back to reality*

“Yeah, babe?”

“You… you’ve seemed kinda down lately and I-”

“Nope! I’m fine Y/n! Don’t worry about me!”

He smiled at you, but it wasn’t his real one

You walk to the bed and sit down next to him, pulling on his big shoulders until his head was lying snugly in your lap

His legs stretched out and he sighed contentedly

You smelled good

“I know you can’t tell me much, but I… I… you never act like this and I’m really worried. Just… let me know if you need to talk, ok?”

Mirio sat up and pulled you into his arms and soon you were straddling his lap, looking up into his sweet blue eyes, your hands resting on his cheeks

He kissed the inside of your wrists, loving the way you would timidly look to the side and back into his

“I will.” He murmurs, “But, can you stay with me tonight? The bed’s cold without you…”

“Of course, Mirio.” You reply, a shy smile and slight blush creeping onto your face

You two had a nice night of cuddling

He really appreciates that you’re there for him, and getting him out of his thoughts, he’s so lucky to have you supporting him

You’re so in love with the guy, it’s not a problem

When more information started coming in and the heroes started forming a plan, you’d find him pacing around his room, nails digging into his scalp as he mumbles to himself

You never expected him to crack under pressure like this

You were afraid for him

He’d been under pressure before, though you’d never seen him crack like this

You’d been staying with him every night, making him food, studying with him, cuddling, kissing, massaging him, everything you could think of to lift his spirits, but it never lasted long

One morning, he isn’t in his bed and you get worried, but go to school knowing it had something to do with his work-study

Later that day, you get summoned to a college hospital where your boyfriend was being held

Did something happen to him?

Was he critically injured?

Did he die?

Would you get there in time to kiss him goodbye?

Was everyone else ok?

You buried your face in your hands as you waited in the lobby to see him

Then you noticed Aizawa walking towards you so you ran to him and started questioning him rapidly, tears pricking your eyes already

He lay a hand on your shoulder to silence you

“Come with me,” He said softly, “Mirio has been waiting for you.”

“B-But did something happen to him? Is he ok?” You asked, following the slouching man into an elevator

“He did get stabbed in his side and his calf, but it won’t leave lasting damage. Unfortunately, something else happened, but I think he’d prefer to tell you himself.” Aizawa sighed, pushing some hair out of his face

“Are… Are you ok Mr. Aizawa?”

“I got 10 staples. Nothing to worry about.”

A few minutes later, you walked into your boyfriend’s hospital room to find him sitting on the edge of his bed and staring out the window

“M-Mirio?” You said, closing the door behind you

He turned, gingerly lifting his leg over the bed

Then he held his arms out to you

You lurched forward into his arms, and upon feeling the solid, protective warmth of his chest and arms, you started crying

Mirio pulled you into his lap, cradling your shaking form and trying to comfort you

“Don’t cry babe… Everything’s fine! You’re ok, sssh…”

When you manage to stop crying, Mirio helps you sit up in his lap and prepares to tell you the bad news

Rubs your back soothingly, kisses the stray tears away, and says, “Baby, uh… I lost my quirk.”

…

“Excuse me?”

“One of the bad guys shot me up with something, and now I can’t use my quirk. At all.” He bowed his head

“Wh… But… you… what about Lemillion? S-Save a million people, right?”

“I’ll have to take a break from UA for awhile… so I… we won’t be together as much.”

“Yes, we have to! Don’t say you wanna break up, because I refuse! I need you! I can’t live without-”

“Woah, woah, honey! I never said that! Never!”

He gripped you in a tight hug and you hugged him right back, gripping the back of his shirt and burying your face in his broad chest.

“I was just letting you know… that’s all! We can make this work!”

“O-Ok, you scared me a little.”

“Sorry.”

NSFW

Who said you need a quirk to have sex?

Not Mirio Togata

Despite not having a quirk, he knows how to make you feel good

He’s been home and you’ve been at school and you miss him a lot so one day you decide to head over to his house after school

Before you could even raise your fist to knock, you were abruptly grabbed and pulled into the house and into someone’s arms

Knocked the wind out of you

When you regain your breath, you lose it again because he brought you immediately into a heated kiss

Mirio has been thinking about you… in more ways than one

I’m seeing multiple kinks

Has missed your smiles, your laugh, your tender kisses and your warm hugs, but besides that, it had been almost a whole month of no sexy time beneath the sheets

Now’s his chance

Mirio WILL NOT leave you dissatisfied

He got a big dick and he knows how to use it

When he’s thus sexually frustrated, he’ll probably take you from behind, but hold up your torso so he can mark your neck

“Oooh~”

“Does it feel good, darling?” He’ll ask when he first bottoms out inside you, grasping your sides

“Y-Yes… ohmygod MIRIO!”

“So beautiful when I fuck you, you know that? Such a pretty face…”

It’s safe to say, he loves you

Your shoulders are a different color by morning

And even without a quirk, he’s the same loving and kind boyfriend

NO CRYING!! BBY STAHP

Izuku Midoriya

SFW

Things you need to know

Izuku is a cinnamon roll

Izuku is the sweetest buffest piece of broccoli to exist

HAVE YOU SEEN HIS GODLY SHOULDERS

I tried to draw him yesterday, but he ended up looking like a carrot

Izuku loves you with all his heart

Izuku gives amazing hugs

Izuku will blush if you touch him

It is inevitable

During that sad arc, boi is sad

He’s always in his head, thinking about his mistake of letting Eri go, using one for all, All Might, avoiding Kaccan, All Might, how absolutely stunning you look in that uniform, and how lucky he is to have you supporting him

If you notice he’s feeling down, you take him upstairs, you discreetly cuddle on the couch, take him to McDonald’s, kiss his freckles, and do anything to get his mind off sad things

EXTRA CUDDLES

HE TAKES YOUR HOODIES

YOU SLEEP TOGETHER IN HIS ALL MIGHT MERCH INFESTED ROOM

Possible sleeping positions: Either he is or you are the big spoon, facing each other, him laying on your stomach, he rolls over in the middle of the night and accidentally crushes you under him, or you cuddled under his armpit with an arm on your back

SMALL MIGHT WILL HAVE BAD DREAMS

You need to wake him up and comfort him immediately!!

If you don’t, this is what will happen:

I, author-san will punch you

AND

You are a horrible person

AND

Babey Izukuwu will wake up by himself, crying, whimpering, scared, and doubting thoughts plaguing his mind

Anyway

You notice his zoning out at the dinner table, smiling at his fish again

That night, you enter his room and before you know what happened, you’re wrapped up under the covers with a green-haired sweetheart holding you tight

His hair is fun to touch

His freckles are fun to kiss

So are his cute lil lips

You kiss all of his scars bc he’s kinda insecure about them

He blushes A LOT

Automatically goes on a rant about why exactly he loves you

“You’re so smart and kind and beautiful, and your eyes are so pretty and your voice takes my breath away. I love you so much, I can’t say it enough.”

Continues for the next half an hour until he either runs out of breath, he falls asleep, you fall asleep, or you kiss him to make him shut up

Loves you unconditionally

Remember that

NSFW

I don’t know what yall are doing when you say Midoriya has a tiny dick

Where tf did that come from?

I’m seeing AT LEAST an 8 to 8.5-inch thing, pale in color, that’s nice and wide with thicc flushed veins going up to the tip

Come @ me

Also, like Tamaki, Izuku isn’t a fucking pushover

In recent episodes & chapters, BOI HAS GUTS TO TALK BACK TO KACCHAN

So brave, yet so naive

Will dom you, but if you wanna ride him, he’s down

He will fuck you over a counter, against the wall, in the kitchen, behind the school, in the closet, etc

When he’s horny, he doesn’t like to be mean or overbearing, he will gently make it known to you by instigating a heated kiss and being VERY touchy; rubbing your sides, squeezing your ass, lifting one of your legs onto his hip so lil Izuku can get some friction, threading his fingers through your hair, etc

So after weeks and weeks of no… activity, horniness takes over and the next night, he’s on you, marking your collarbones and making you scream his name

Into a pillow

He doesn’t want to get caught or make anyone uncomfortable

He’s cute like that

“Mmh, harder Izuku~ Harder!”

“So… tight~ Haah, Y/n!”

Knows how to please his precious girl, especially since she was so supportive during the last few weeks

Plus he has a special notebook just for you

“You like it when I touch you there baby?”

“Y-Yes, god yes~ More!”

“More? Haven’t you had enough? So greedy…”

“Nyagh~ D-Don’t stop! It feels so good Izuku…”

When all is said and done, he’ll treat you like a queen until you drift off, held safely against his chest

He feels a special responsibility and a need to protect you since you were important to him and people could use his love for you against him

Always remember, he loves you unconditionally, no matter how kinky you are

510 notes · View notes

ghoste-catte · 4 years ago

Note

multiples of 3 ✌🏼-sgmdrcklee

@sagemoderocklee you’re really trying to kill me lol

This got long as heck so I’m throwing it behind a cut. Read on for answers and fic recs! (Mostly the fic recs)

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

This is a tough one to answer for me generally because I tend to spit words onto the page and once I have written them I no longer remember writing them. And 2020 has stretched on so long that as I’m looking at some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of this year, I hardly remember what’s even in it. I think at one point someone (@goblin-draws maybe?) mentioned a line in Sleeptalk with Me where the innkeeper calls Kankuro “chubby boy”, and I was like “Oh ... did I write that? Yeah, sounds like something I’d have someone say to Kankuro ...”

It might be easier to talk about this in other terms. One of the scenes I worked the hardest on this year was the fight scene in Chapter 3 of Skeleton Key. The original draft of the scene was a lot shorter, and a lot of the backstory for Misaki’s revenge quest was elided. The scene as originally written was clunky, confusing, and as my lovely wife/beta put it sounded “like a Naruto villain” was doing the dialogue, when previously she’d found Misaki sinister and intriguing. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I basically entirely overhauled the scene and re-wrote it several times. I wouldn’t call it a ‘favorite’ scene (I hate writing fight scenes generally; having chosen to immerse myself in a fandom about ninja where much of the drama comes from battle is my eternal regret), but it is a scene that I put a lot of effort into, and I’m moderately satisfied with the improved product that resulted.

6. least popular fic this year

By far my least popular fic by kudos ever is Pitch Perfect. Which makes complete sense to me. It’s a fic where I’ve written 2 characters who are men in canon as cis women, which pushes a lot of uncomfortable buttons for a lot of people. It contains F/F smut, which is something that a lot of people who choose to read GaaLee probably aren’t out there looking for. And people comment and kudos less on smutfics, I assume because they don’t want their username attached to porn or because they’re embarrassed (which I totally get, no shame there). It’s a modern AU with a sports twist, and AUs are often less popular than canonverse in my experience. I will say though that it has a surprisingly high number of private bookmarks compared to other fics with comparable hit and kudos counts. So I assume people are just a bit more shy because the premise is so ‘out there’. I will say as far as my fics go, it’s one of my personal favorites and probably one of the most intimate and true-to-life things I’ve written? So it actually is a little comforting to know that something so vulnerable has relatively little attention.

9. longest wip of the year

If we’re going based on stuff that’s partially published but not complete, my Gaara-adopts-Shinki fic On My Way Home is my longest in-progress fic at just over 20k words, although technically I started it in 2019. It will probably end up being right around 40-50k when it’s complete, which might end up situating it as my longest fic ever?

12. favorite character to write about this year

Okay, this is an easy one. I love writing Kankuro. I think he is hilarious. He is the devil on my shoulder and a creature of pure id, and every time I write a line of dialogue for him it’s the summation of my rudest thoughts about a situation put in the crudest possible terms. If there were a megaphone directly from my unfiltered brain giving running commentary, that would be Kankuro.

15. something you learned this year

I have learned SO much this year! This is only my 2nd year properly ‘focusing’ on writing fic and investing any substantial time into it. I think the biggest thing I have learned, though, is how to overcome a lot of my self-consciousness about writing stories with NSFW elements in them. Starting out, I was so extremely shy and mortified about writing fic at all, much less things like hugging or (god forbid!) kissing. So taking on the smut prompts I took this year and really buckling down on learning to write the mechanics and emotions of sex has been a massive learning experience. (And sorry, by the way, if I haven’t gotten to a prompt you sent me in January yet. I do intend to write all of them eventually!)

18. current number of WIPs

Ah. The call-out question. My general fic process is idea -> outline -> wip -> edit -> ready to post (where the final draft sits in my docs until I gin up the courage to actually post it). So skipping fics that are just “ideas” on the big mega-list, I have 3 fics in the “outline” stage, 13 fics in the partially written “wip” stage, 1 fic in the “editing” stage, and 2 that are complete but yet-to-be-posted. So, like, 19 total in the offing. (The “ideas” list is even worse lol.)

21. most memorable comment/review

This is such a difficult question because every single comment I get makes me do a little dance for joy. That’s not an exaggeration btw I really sit there and like bounce around in my seat for a moment before I open the Ao3 email. I am not an especially emotive person irl, but there have been times I’ve been brought near tears by comments. I’ll also occasionally show them to my wife like !! look at this nice thing this person said !! and she’s indulgent enough to actually read them. There have been a couple comments that have really stuck with me, that I starred in my inbox and return to frequently, but I don’t want to bring attention to someone else without their permission. I will say there was one person recently who mentioned (not in the comments on one of my fics) that they had found someone who does physical binding of fanfiction and they were about to ask my permission to do that, but then the person who does the binding only does certain ships that she likes ... so that, just, absolutely floored me. The idea that someone might actual want a physical copy of my stupid little ninja fanfictions is, like, so truly immense and completely overwhelming?

24. favorite fic you read this year

You can’t make me pick just one!! (For reference, I have bookmarked right around 180 fics in the past year, and that’s not including fics that I just read, really enjoyed, but didn’t think I could ‘handle’ a second time around.) So, skipping over the ones that AREN’T Naruto ... here is a brief sampling of some faves:

Silica by deepestbluest (rated E, GaaLee, ShikaTema, and Kankiba) - An absolute emotional powerhouse of a fic that manages to skillfully interweave three complex relationship dynamics, satisfactorily resolve them, and give you ALL the sandsibs feels in just over 10k words.

Childhood Not-Friends (series) by MegaWallflower (rated G, KakaGai) - @megawallflower is a KakaGai god for good reason. Absolutely adorable relationship development fics (five of them!) with the premise that Kakashi thinks he and Gai have been dating since they were kids ... Gai just hasn’t been clued into it yet. These stories will give you heart-eyes.

The Bright Side by gidget_goes (rated T, GaaLee) - This is the Buffy AU I never knew I needed, because I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But truly you don’t need any Buffy knowledge to enjoy this fic. @gidget-goes command of imagery is masterful, and the way they manage to snap from snark to tugging at your heartstrings is awe-inspiring. Gaara breaks my heart in this. And did I mention Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat? Because Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat.

Nature vs. Nurture by Bidiza (rated T, GaaLee) - So introspective and so poetic. This looks like a WIP but it’s actually multiple oneshots, although by the end of the second one you’ll be dying for the rest of the promised series.

I’m a Fool to Want You by BeelieveRosemarie (rated M, GaaLee) - Turns out @tuttiefruttiegaalee isn’t just an amazing artist, they’re a writer, too! Slow-dancing that will break your heart. Listen to the Frank Sinatra song while you read this for extra tear-jerking effect.

Let Love be Known (series) by TenTomatoes (rated G, GaaLee) - This is the twist on the arranged marriage trope and Beauty and the Beast that I didn’t realize this fandom was missing. I’m absolutely obsessed with their concept of Gaara as the Beast

I Could Be by LilacNoctua (rated T, GaaLee) - I know I big up @lilac-writes Worthwhile series a lot (deservedly so, because it’s so good it makes you look at the series and go “Why the fuck didn’t Kishimoto make this canon exactly like this?”), but this story made me absolutely die between the butterflies in my stomach and how hard I was laughing. There’s one line--you’ll know it when you read it--that absolutely bowls me over every time I re-read this.

And Then Continue by EgregiousDerp (rated E, GaaLee) - Obviously I’m biased because this was a gift, but @egregiousderp writes some of the the best characterized porn I’ve ever read. You will read this and go “Wow! This is exactly how it would happen!” It’s such a tender, beautiful exploration of Gaara’s insecurities and a very real feeling first time, for all its soft edges.

Cake by citronelle (rated E, KanKiba) - I don’t even know what to say about this one other than ... phew, this is extremely well written, extremely hot, and extremely in character. Just read it. I promise it’s worth it.

Saudade by YumKiwiDelicious (rated M, GaaLee) - I’ve run around reccing this to just about every person on the face of the earth at this point. If you’re in the GaaLee Discord you probably saw everyone salivating over every new update of this fic and with good reason. The twists and turns of this fic will have you on the edge of your seat, second guessing every single moment. And it will break your heart in the meantime. What more could you want?

the love potion commotion by floating_cats (rated T, NejiSasu with background GaaLee) - One of those fics where you wish the author’s sense of humor was your own. So many hilarious moments in this story, and it brought me a new appreciation for a ship I never would have even considered.

Finger Lickin’ Good by whazzername (rated E, GaaLee) - Whazz is another one of those authors where I literally want to rec every single thing she’s ever written, she’s just that good. (Speaking of which, if you haven’t read Fools Rush In and its sequel Degrees of Separation, you’re missing out on the best possible Metal origin story of all time. Don’t deprive yourself of this.) But this story is just ... so incredibly in character for a situation that reads like crack. It’s handled with the utmost straight-facedness and it’s so. freakin’. good.

heart lines by winterberry_holly (rated M, NejiTen and GaaLee) - I don’t even have the words to describe how perfect this fic is. It’s a truly beautiful exploration of Tenten’s relationship with her palmistry hobby and with the people in her life. My heart ached with every single line.

Standing on Ceremony by kuroashi (rated E, GaaLee) - This is just ... such a beautiful wedding story. So lovely, like getting the best possible warm hug from someone you love. If that love one was slightly strange and socially inept, because, well. It’s still Gaara doing Gaara-things. @baphometsss is another one of those authors whose handling of smut scenes is so stupendous it makes me wildly jealous.

Thrall by RokiRiot (rated T, GaaLee) - Idiots-to-lovers with a magic AU twist! This is such a wonderful story, and Gaara’s internal monologue is absolutely amazing. And Lee is Deaf in this fic, which I never ever get to see and which absolutely made my entire day/week/month/life.

Make-Out Consequences by LuxaLucifer (rated M, KakaGai with background canon Boruto ships) - I laughed so hard reading this that I had to take a breather to stop crying. That’s not an exaggeration. The characterization in this fic is impeccable and the humor is to die for. Naruto’s buffoonery truly shines here, and the author’s wit is just beyond anything I could even properly summarize. Hysterical. A++.

Thirteen Strokes by Luna_Lee (rated T, GaaLee) - Again, like, if you aren’t reading literally everything @sagemoderocklee writes, are you even really a GaaLee fan? But this fic is beyond even for one of Eeri’s incredibly excellent writings. The worldbuilding in this, the cultural notes, the imagery ... it’s all so lush and so fulfilling and so beautiful. It’s a story about love and it’s a story that you can tell has love poured into every single line. I can’t recommend it enough.

Checkmate by shadowstrangle (rated G, GaaLee) - The pettiness vibes ... this is so funny. Such a cute story and I love Gaara’s sense of humor here. Not a lot of writers give him a sense of humor, but I love how @shadowstrangle gives him a slightly odd, slightly left-of-center take on humor that still manages to be so funny.

To Court a Village by FanFictionEngineer (rated G, GaaLee) - Another one where my bias is perhaps slightly obvious, but the premise of this fic is amazing. I love cultural misunderstandings, and the idea of Lee trying his hardest to court Gaara ineptly is just so perfect.

affliction of feeling by theformerone (rated E, SakuHina) - One of those ships that it would never have occurred to me to seek out but that absolutely works with how the author’s set it up. The dynamics here are delicious. It’s so rare to find good F/F porn but this is one of them for sure.

Tried and Tested by twentysomething (Rated M, KakaIru with background canon Boruto ships and GaaLee) - Iruka’s narration in this story is just incredible. I haven’t laughed this hard reading a fic in ages. And the concept alone (that Naruto can’t be promoted to Hokage until he passes his chuunin exams ... as an adult ... and Sasuke gets dragged along for the ride) is just brilliant. Amazing concept, amazingly executed.

a fireside waltz by winterberry_holly (rated M, GaaLee) - I really tried not to rec a single author more than once here but for this one I had to. I got about halfway through this fic and immediately started running around ringing the town crier bell like READ THIS FIC! READ THIS FIC! An absolutely smoldering Regency AU with such beautiful, intimate dance scenes. My heart was racing every single time their fingers brushed. If you don’t read anything else on this list, at the very least read this.

27. favorite fanfic author of the year

I really can’t pick just one. I am lucky enough that @egregiousderp passes me her drafts under the table before (or without) publishing, and getting to read those is a private treat of unparalleled proportions. Some of my favorite things I’ve read this year I can’t even rec because they’re her unpublished stuff.

30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year

This is gonna come off strange because I just wrote such a long Naruto reclist, but I recently watched What We Do in the Shadows, and found an incredibly talented group of authors in that fandom with really amazingly good dialogue and narrative voice. I also read a lot of fic for the new It movies (even though I couldn’t watch the 2nd one for ~reasons~), and damn if there isn’t a talented crop of authors in that fandom, too. And finally with ATLA making its way onto Netflix, I had the chance to start watching that for the first time and found a ton of really good fic there as well!

fanfic end of the year asks!

#answered #ask meme #sagemoderocklee #Anonymous

24 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “To learn.”

My brain wanted to write something in first person present tense today. I have no idea why, but I let it go wild. I hope you all like it :) A little bit different than my usual style :)

I just needed some time.

You ever tried putting yourself back together after war, it isn’t easy, or at least I don’t find it to be. I don’t know, call me a sissy, but I don’t actually like war., I don’t take pleasure from killing, but it is part of my job, a big part of it and if the universe continues the way it is, I am going to see war a lot more often.

I wish it didn’t affect me so much.

I wish I had a better way of handling it.

People think I’m a strong person, but they’re wrong. There are plenty of people who could take up my mantle and do a more badass job. They wouldn’t grow sick as the sight of carnage, and they wouldn’t hesitate to put the armor back on.

I’m not like that ….

I’m a coward.

If my friends knew…. Well I have no idea what they would think of me.

But that’s why I had to take some time. Since my first injury, I have never been totally alone. There was always someone there to check on me, there was always someone there to help me deal with my issues. I don’t think I ever figured out how to take care of myself, which is why I decided to take this trip, alone.

The others didn’t understand it…. well , one of them did but he still didn’t like it, but If I am being honest it will be good for them….. Especially her…. The last thing I want to do is make it so we can’t function alone.

I think its called…. Codependency or something.

I don’t know sounds like the sort of thing I’d get caught up in.

I suppose it's for all those reasons that I ended up here.

Looking out the window, I can see Anum suspended against the sky glassy in shades of blue purple and green like a lucky marble. It almost feels as if I can reach out and touch it.

The last time I saw this place, it was receding into the distance,.

I lost a lot here, my leg, and my mind for a short time.

Now it kind of makes me laugh to think that a piece of me was left behind to fertilize some of the plant matter. Of course, it looks a bit different now that the dark season has abated. I had only ever seen the place when it was covered in ash, but it's actually quite beautiful.

The pilot of the shuttle is pretty average, and I only feel like tightening my hands on the seatbelts just a little as we enter the atmosphere.

Fire rolls up around us as friction begins to heat up the outer hull.

Around me men and aliens alike rock in their seats.

Most of them are miners, come here to work on extracting the precious metals from below Anum’s surface.

Personally, I prefer asteroid mining, but statistics say that is more dangerous and expensive so of course corporations like it a lot less, and besides, all of this was sort of just a massive pissing contest with the GA forcing the Drev to pay for the damages caused during war. I don’t think they should, but who am I to give my opinion.

I’m just a soldier.

It doesn't take us long to leave the atmosphere, and it isn’t long before we are looking down at a massive open mining operation. The face of Anum has been scoured with a massive terraced hole overrun by machines and workers cutting into the stone. Volcanoes pipe smoke in the distance.

The scars of industry really are ugly sometimes.

I’ve seen pictures of anum during the bright season, without the machinery.

It's honestly very beautiful, but maybe I'm a bit biased. It’s the one part of home that Sunny misses, and I’ve always wanted to see it for myself. With all the times we’ve gone to earth, you think we'd have visited her home planet too, but I guess the cosmos have ust never taken us this way.

Red lights blink above the doors, and I unbuckle my harness pulling on my bag and gear with the rest of the miners, though I’m not here for the same reason they are. Boots clatter loudly on the ramp below our feet, and I head outside.

It smells clean and cool, though for a distant tang of sulfur.

You barely notice it though, less bad than visiting the hot springs at yellowstone, so your nose adjusts quickly.

The sky overhead is blue, just like on earth, though the ground beyond the launch pad is an amalgamation of rainbow color. I have to blink a few times to adjust my vision, pulling up the eyepatch to take a look from my mechanical eye and its UV filter.

“Holy shit.”

It's beautiful, the sheer amount of color is astonishing like the Lucky Charms leprechaun had some sort of horrific accident. T

he miners ignore me and continue on their way towards the docking pad.

I don’t plan on following.

I am not here for them. I drop the patch back over my eye, and adjust the bag over my shoulder striking it out into the bush, barely looking back. No one notices, or cares, and it isn’t long before the launch field and the mining operation disappears over the horizon. Anum’s circumference is just a little smaller than that of earth with the horizon eating up anything beyond that around three miles.

Gravity is somewhat lessened too, which makes it easier as I walk.

My boots are silent against the multicolored moss at my feet, this stuff teal in color. Little white flowers spring up from the surface like clover back home. A light gust of wind rolls past me causing the flowers to ripple. I lift my head closing my eyes and allowing the wind to carry with it distant smells.

This is the same wind that Sunny would have known growing up, the same feeling under her feet.

I decide to stop a couple miles out under the meager shade of a coiltree. I have never actually seen one before now, and I can see why it’s called a coiltree. Honestly it looks like something straight out of a Dr. Seus book striped up the trunk and with branches that curl into spirals. More little whit blossoms erupt from the trunk, and between those are little white berries.

I seem to recall those being edible.

Reaching up, I pluck one or two down from the branches and pop them into my mouth. Though the skin is white, the berries juice stains my hands purple. One of them is horrifically sour, but the other is pleasantly sweet, probably more ripe than the other, though I can’t yet tell the difference between them.

I sit there under the tree for a little while looking out across the lonely landscape. Something is moving on the distant horizon, though I can't exactly tell what they are, a herd of some sort of animal or another. They are very tall as far as I can tell, just a little shorter than the coiltree.

As a last moment decision, I kick off my boots, and strip my socks tying them to my bag before standing.

The moss is very soft under my feet erupting upwards between my toes like a shag carpet, but you know much less hideous.

My footsteps are even softer now, though the prosthetic clatters sometimes when metal hits stone.

Sweat runs down my back,sides, and front.

I have no idea where I am going, but I know they will see me soon enough.

They have patroll parties out here, and if they aren’t watching me already, then they will be soon enough.

I keep walking heading parallel to the volcanic chain.

For the most part, my hike is uneventful, except for that time that I stepped on something slimy and wriggly. I hate to admit it but I squealed like an idiot and nearly fell over, only made worse when I looked down and saw the giant pale maggot burrowing into the moss and underground.

I nearly gagged, and my skin crawled.

Sunny had mentioned those, though I forgot their names.

THey lived primarily off of decomposing plant and animal material, very common in areas where war had continued.

I didn’t like it, but it was probably one of those nasty suckers that ate my leg.

Ew…

Gross.

I contemplated putting my boots back on, but kept walking instead.

A group of unknown flying critters appear overhead. They have two sets of membranous wings, kind of like those of a bat, no tail though, just a long rail of fur like the streamer of a kite.

These ones are bright colors like pink and yellow.

Pretty cool.

Its nice to walk in the silence, though after a while my brain devolves into humming the star wars theme, and then singing stupid songs dancing around and hopping about from one foot to another as I badly sing the choruses to all the songs I know.

My eye of the tiger rendition probably left something to be desired, though I doubt anyone out here would know the difference.

Then comes the stupid dialogs with myself as I try to imagine what Krill Conn and Sunny would say about all this.

“Commander, I will have you know that you behavior is highly disquieting, I insist we get an MRI on your brain to make sure you have not developed a severe case of bilateral goop disease.”

“What kind of dumbass just goes wandering around with no idea where he’s going. The dumbass kind of dumbass.”

“Adam, I need you to understand that Anum is a dangerous place. I know you grew up on earth, but there are still things that can go wrong on Anum. Do you know how common surprise hot springs are. What if you fell in and died.”

Speaking of which, “Thanks imaginary Sunny, I totally forgot about that.”

Other than that, what can go wrong, it is a bright shiny day, the temperature is perfect, nothing someone like me can’t handle. Oh and is that a crunchy pink orb I see. I fucking love those, they taste so good.

I hop over the rocks, my feet warm on the moss, and reach down to pluck one of the spheres from it’s short stumpy stem.

And that's when the spear appears at my throat.

Shit.

I drop my hand back and look up to see a drev that is at least three feet taller than me, holding his massive spear orange eyes narrowed. Holy shit, I didn’t even hear her/him coming. Honestly I should have seen them coming long before anything else bright fuschia as they were.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish.” They jab the spear at my neck, and the obsidian lined head cuts through my sin like butter.

Oh shit, uh, my translator is not picking up shit. Guess these guys have a different accent than we’re used to. I rack my brains trying to remember how to speak what little I know, but it seems that it has all fled me when I needed it the most.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish!” I stumble backwards onto my butt and hands. Shit shit.

I hold up a hand.

“Cheeyat neahasan!” Shit I forgot to conjugate the verb. Damn I must look like an idiot yelling ‘to speak slow!’ at the top of my lungs

However, my botched attempt at speaking seems to work, and they pull back. “Tsa dzhal Cheeyish.”

Oh I understood that one, “Yid zhe cheeyi dzhal.” yes, yes I speak Drev, “neahasan.” Slolwy anyway.

They pull back. I don't know why, but I’m getting a female vibe off this one. I can't tell though, Drev voices all tend to be rather deep.

“Lod tsa ee nin tsa daeen darish” She says it slower this time, and all around her I watch as a small group of other Drev move to flank me from the sides. They are listening very intently.

I think I understand this time, the rough translation being who are you and what are you doing.

I want to speak with your leader, “Zhe zhegingi s tsak eeda cheeyat.” My voice is halting and I am butchering the pronunciation, but they seem to get my request.

She trusts the spear at me, “Tsaee!”

I hold up my hands, “Woah woah, easy easy…. I uh.” Shit what was the word to learn, “zhe….zhengingi hak tsa…. “ Damn it… I can’t remember, “um….. Rekazat nin dzhal….. Rekazazh.”

Oh wow, that sounds really intelligent. I wanted to learn from them but instead apparently I ‘want to know what they know.’ riveting conversationalist that I am.

She stares at me confused.

In frustration I point at her spear, “Zhe zhengingi…..zheengat?”

Uh this was going poorly. I clearly did not know as much of their language as I thought I did.

I want to know to fight.

Wow excellent work their commander that will convince them.

They look back and forth at each other, and fire off some quick shot dialogue that leaves my head spinning.

She turns to me and lowers her spear, “s jya Hajish.”

Come with us.

Great a sentence I understood.

It was in the next few hours that I was either going to live, or I was going to die horribly.

A pretty exciting time in my life.

And I followed.

Not like I had a choice at this point.

348 notes · View notes

star-wars-scribbles-ff · 4 years ago

Text

Where I Belong | Chapter 2

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she’ll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, found family, lots of clone boys, [more]

Words: 7,712

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me 😊

CHAPTER NOTE: Next chapter! Little shorter than the last so I hope that is acceptable. Don’t have much to say other than I hope it is enjoyed 🥰 OH! Check out one of the links below to see some arts I did for my OC Arwen Corcer! Her name is pronounced [ARE-when COURSE-er] for those interested!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals

Present Day…

The sun was just beginning to disappear behind the Coruscant skyline. Colors ranging from orange to purple were splashed behind the whisked clouds. The cityscape shadowed much of the surface, making it seem much darker than it had been minutes prior.

Knelt on the ledge of one of the complex buildings, Arwen Corcer cradled an adventurer slugthrower rifle close to her body, cheek nestled over the stock as she stared through the scope, down the barrel.

Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum. It was prevalent in her mind; the one thing she could hear. Breath steady, and both eyes open, she kept her dominant eye trained through the scope at the target. It was the only thing that could take precedence over the sound of her heart beating slowly, calculatedly.

Just over a mile away, the target stood on the balcony of a large complex with other party guests attending a fundraiser. Since the outbreak of the war between the Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems, he'd been finding ways to make money off of both sides, all of which were illegal, helping to settle her conscience about the job.

Arwen didn't know the motive behind the client who had hired her to eliminate the individual, but from what dirt she'd been able to turn up on the target, they had their fair share of skeletons in the closet- not including their double dealings with both the Republic and the CIS. Whatever the motive was- Arwen didn't have any desire to know; it wasn't her business, and it was also the job not to ask questions. That she learned early on.

The target had a female Twi’lek on his arm. She was relatively close; too close. Arwen would need to wait for a proper window.

The balcony was a large half circle that acted as a roof to half of the tower it rested upon; the outer wall of the half-circle was lined with finely arranged floral bushes and other organic material that contrasted starkly with the harsh greys of the city. Seating also scattered the sides of the balcony. Twenty-four individuals resided on the balcony, including the target who was talking with multiple associates.

Finally the moment came, and the female left the target to walk inside. There was an opening.

Allowing her gloved fingers to make a minuscule adjustment on the barrel of her rifle, Arwen kept her breath steady, gaze locked on the target.

Bum bum…. Bum bum…. Bum bum.

Her finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger.

Bum bum.

She breathed in.

Bum bum.

Then out.

Bum bum.

She went to squeeze the trigger when a flash of blinding light overrode her senses.

“Haar'chak!” Arwen cursed and lowered the rifle, squinted eyes raised towards the sky to see a Republic transport coming to a stationary hover around twenty-five yards above her.

Spot lights flashed around her as individuals in the transport angled them towards her. Voices echoed over the roar of the transport. Republic Police.

Raising her rifle again, Arwen quickly found the target once more.

Identify. Breathe in. Breathe out. Squeeze.

The recoil of the rifle doubling back into her shoulder coupled with the force of the rifle pushing what air that was left from her lungs was familiar, oddly comforting, as she resettled the rifle, watching through the scope as the target was knocked to the ground with the force of the slug.

Not a blaster bolt. Arwen would take a good blaster any day, but using old fashioned solid rounds was always a sure way to handle a job. Took authorities longer to get leads and she could make the ammunition herself if she so desired.

Quickly flipping the safety on the weapon, Arwen swings the rifle over her body, securing the safety strap to her armor plate before taking off across the roof of the complex. Disappearing into the maze of air conditioning and ventilation units and other structures, Arwen pulled the fabric hanging around her shoulders up, securing it over her nose before pulling the hood over her head.

The authorities yelled as they repelled down onto the rooftop and began a chase.

Dodging ventilation units and other cubic structures that littered the rooftop of the tower, Arwen came face to face with several GU-series Police Droids.

“Halt,” One held up an arm towards her, SS-410 pistol in hand. “You are under arrest.”

There were too many here to have happened to notice her presence. She had been set up.

Dodging the fire of one of them, she lunged forward and pushed them over before continuing through the maze of structures. She just had to get to the opposite end of the complex. Those droids would have speeders; she’d take one and dump it near one of the vents; they’d suspect she's gone into the lower levels.

Rounding a large unit, Arwen came to a screeching halt at the overwhelmingly bright colored individual.

“Stop!” A standard Republic clone trooper fitted in the signature bright white armor pointed his blaster at her. He looked rather taken off guard.

Arwen, still controlling her breathing, allowed her jaw to briefly clench before her ears perked and she heard the Police droids and her lips parted. Her eyes jumped to the side for a split second before she felt her eyebrows twitch.

“Don’t move.” He ordered, going to step closer to her.

She remained still as he approached, waiting for her opportunity before slapping his blaster away. She was quick to emobilize him; having grabbed his forearm she turned and put her back to his chest before throwing the trooper over her shoulder.

He let out a cry of surprise before grunting in pain as he crumpled to the ground. Arwen’s pistol was already pointed down at him, his head at her feet. His helmet was already facing her but he seemed to flinch moments later; an indication he’d now noticed his predicament. He went to unsteadily raise his hands with hesitation.

Breathing now uneven and not controlled, Arwen stared down at the trooper. Mouth turning dry, she swallowed before her head shot up.

They were coming.

Shooting the briefest look back down at the trooper whose head was at her feet, she quickly holstered her pistol and ran for one of the speeders hovering off the building ledge. As she jumped onto one, droids and other Troopers came flooding towards her. Cranking the throttle, she took off across the Coruscant skyline.

After dumping the Police speeder near one of the vents, Arwen returned to the establishment owned by her client called Lanter’s Tavern. It was obvious she’d been set up; an arrangement made most likely so he wouldn’t have to pay her. It wasn’t a surprise, but needless to say, she would have preferred this transaction to have gone smoothly.

Walking across the first level of the bar, Arwen made her way towards the back hall. The client owned this bar, however it was more a front; operated by employees to keep authorities off of his scent.

Arwen swallowed, face still clothed in her dark grey, ragged hood, and cloth piece over her nose. The look was drawing eyes, but as soon as she made eye contact with any of them, they’d look away rather quickly. She wasn’t dressed like a civvy. Armored chest plate, shoulder, knee, and torso plating, rifle slung over her shoulder, blaster on her side and vibroblade attached to her boot- she looked like a gun for hire.

Her eyes snapped to the side when yelling flooded the room, and she quickly spotted a group of men cheering at one of the screenprojectors above the bar. This wasn’t one of the rowdier bars, but when certain pod races or other sporting events came on, it drew in crowds of the like.

One would assume it was just your average evening on Coruscant. Many of the people residing on the planet had essentially no idea just how the war was currently strangling the galaxy. Sure Coruscant had its own problems, but most of these people didn’t know. They were content to be here, ignorant to the trillions of others surrounded by war throughout the galaxy.

It was… a lonely feeling; being in the know in some manner while being surrounded by those with no knowledge of the conflict that had been at the center of her life until recently.

Continuing through the crowds to the other side of the large area, she was able to pass people virtually unnoticed until she began heading down the back hall. Graffiti was sparse but painted the walls here and there. It was a relatively clean establishment, just enough to blend with the top level of Coruscant at least.

As she walked down the dimly lit corridor, out of sight from others she pulled the hood off of her head and lowered the cloth covering her face. Turning the corner, she spotted a human male guard at the door. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened as he went to scramble for his blaster, currently holstered.

By the time Arwen was in front of him and he had the blaster pointed, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him forwards with enough force to cause his face to collide with her shoulder plate with a clang. He sputtered before dropping to the floor.

Stepping over the body, Arwen pushed the control on the wall to open the door. As soon as it opened, her eyes met the barrels of multiple blasters pointed in her direction. She eased to a stop, picking out the multiple individuals preventing her from entering before she heard the muttering of words coming from further inside the room.

“Let her in, let her in.” It was a familiar voice, the client.

Arwen waited for the hired protection of the client to ease their weapons. Her own posture was relatively relaxed, however at a moment's notice she could have her blaster in hand.

The individuals finally began stepping away, and Arwen waited until she had enough room before entering the converted office space, one calculated step after another. Her gaze dotted from one person to the next; a few Weequays -two male and one female- one male Nikto, one male human, and two Siniteens - male and female. All of them were armed.

“Well, I admit I didn’t expect to see you again. Alive at least, after taking that job.”

Arwen turned her attention to the individual sitting at a desk in the corner, a datapad now abandoned in front of him sitting on the desk.

“No thanks to you,” Arwen countered, hand resting over her belt as she met the eyes of the client.

“You’re lucky, mercenary.” The Belosar considered her for a moment, eyes wandering over her as if he was looking for a sign of wear or evidence that his attempt to get rid of her wasn’t a complete waste. A couple beats of silence followed before he gave a decided hum and stood from his seat. Even at a stand, he was small, only five feet, maybe a couple inches more; his skin was almost a sickly grey, common for Belosars, his antennapalps protruded from his dark locks.

A chuckle left his lips as he walked around his desk and past her, towards the right side of the room.

“You do drive a hard bargain for your services,” He tsked, waving a finger before going towards a large safe built into the wall.

“Well, you aren’t the first client to attempt to sell me out, Gerdon.” Arwen responded, notes of amusement on her tongue as she followed the Belosar with her eyes.

“I assume if you are here, and that you haven’t started shooting, that you have finished the job, yes?” The antennapalps atop his head twitched as he turned to look at her from around the safe door, which stood taller than him.

Belosars’ antennapalps gave them the ability to detect drastic emotional changes around them as well as immediate danger, so he already knew she wasn’t here to do him harm.

“You’d assume correct.” Arwen found her hands gripping her belt buckle as the client finally walked over with a small satchel that she assumed was full of credits. It better be at least.

He held it out and she went to grasp the strap of the satchel, noticing almost immediately how he wasn’t planning on letting go of the item.

Her gaze remained on his as she searched his expression, careful not to give anything away in her own as she waited.

She could feel the presence of the protection detail around her. They were on edge, and by what Arwen could tell, hadn’t received previous orders on how to handle the situation- meaning they were reacting off of whatever Gerdon was doing as each second passed.

If it was one thing she hadn’t been raised to deal with- it was these types of people. Not that she struggled; she knew how to navigate the life, but she’d experienced plenty of instances of learning on the go. So far not one client had questioned her validity as a mercenary or bounty hunter. Only a few had questioned her as they hadn’t seen her in the business prior, however it was an easy thing to explain. Big galaxy.

Sometimes it made her rethink just how good she was at the life… being a criminal. She’d received the best training in the galaxy and this is how she was using it… Then it would come back - why she was in this situation to begin with and how she’d come into the life.

Her eyes flicked towards some of the armed individuals before returning to Gerdon.

“I recall we discussed proof of your success being displayed upon your return?” He tried, spare hand drumming lightly on the satchel, the other gripping the other end of the strap.

“That was before you sold me out to the Republic.” Arwen stepped closer, causing a few of the surrounding hired guns to pull their weapons slowly. “You’ll see it on the Holonet News first light; given the Republic will allow the word to spread.”

The Galactic Republic had taken over the HoloNet News, or just HNN, shortly after the war broke out. Everything ran through them, as to ensure the CIS wasn’t aided in any potentially sensitive information. Despite that effort, there was a Separatist presence on Coruscant - hell on every Republic system - besides Kamino possibly; there were terrorist cells everywhere, and information was always being leaked. Arwen doubted things had changed at all since she… left.

“Either way, word’ll get to you.” Her voice was low and sharp as she maintained steady eye contact with the man, the height difference between them not going unnoticed as the Belosar shifted where he stood. She easily stood at around 5 feet, 9 inches and her footwear added an extra inch in the sole. This Belosar’s eyes barely met the top of her chest plate.

Gerdon considered her momentarily, his jaw tightens briefly before his lips pull back and he grins. Chuckling he released the satchel and pushed it into her grasp before patting the hand she’d been holding the strap with.

“Yes yes of course, it is only fair I suppose.” He appeared almost distracted as he headed back to his desk, shifting things on the tabletop surface as he went. “It is the pay we discussed. I threw a little extra in for your trouble.”

“How thoughtful.” Arwen couldn’t help the deadpan tone that leaked through her words.

“It was a pleasure,” The Belosar clasped his hands together, resting them on his desk once he had taken a seat. The silence that followed was a clear indication that she was excused.

Arwen watched him for a moment, using her peripheral vision to keep an eye on the hired protection in the room before bowing her head a fraction in response.

Satchel in her grasp, she went to leave, meeting the eyes of one of the Weequays before heading out of the office. She stepped over the still unconscious guard on the ground and continued down the hallway back towards the bar.

The breath that slipped out through her lips caused her stomach to tighten a fraction as she closed her eyes momentarily.

That was too close. If she didn’t have to worry about the heat from the authorities, she’d probably have dealt with that piece of rankweed Belosar; the only one of his kind she had met who wasn’t in the Death Stick trade. Gerdon was something of a coward, but could weasel his way out of a lot of problems. She’d been warned he might pull a stunt like that, but it still caught her off guard when it happened. Thankfully she was able to get away without hurting anyone.

Face now exposed, Arwen made a beeline for one of the more secluded bar counters at the back of the room where multiple bench seating areas resided. There were only a few other individuals at the bar, several seats down when she took a seat on the far right. Grabbing the rifle off of her back, she rested it against the bar between her and the wall before raising her hand in a small gesture for the bartender.

“Be there in a minute, girlie.” Ignoring the man’s words, Arwen gripped her fist with her right hand, resting her chin on her thumbs.

Despite feeling more at ease, her shoulders were still tight, and her back was tense. She needed to disappear for a while. After that phiasco, there would be bulletins out for her; she’d be on the HoloNet News probably. The police droids most likely snapped images of her; they’d have a loose idea of her face, but not enough to use recognition software. If she stayed low for a while, she might be able to stay on Coruscant but… She’d have to wait a long while before things cooled down. It might just be easier to leave. However she didn’t have enough loose credits to get off-world.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment before running a hand over her hair that was braided off to one side; her bangs were loose and tousled from the hood she’d since removed. Movement on the other side of the bar counter caused Corcer’s eyes to lift, and she met the gaze of a human male.

“What can i get you?”

“I’ll have an Ardees.” Something strong and bitter to ease her nerves.

“If you don’t want the nonalcoholic version, I’ll need to see some identification.” The man responded, resting one hand on the counter. Her previous job didn’t exactly give her an identification card, much like in the Republic’s military. That was something civilians had.

Arwen closed her eyes momentarily before looking the bartender in the eye. Letting on hand slide away from the counter and to her lap.

“I just finished a job with Gerdon; that should be enough.” Arwen countered. If you knew the name, it was essentially a pass. This bar was named Lanter’s because that was the façade Gerdon used, and if you knew his real name you were involved in his work.

The bartender’s expression flickered with mild uncertainty before he gave a curt nod and went to prepare the drink.

Feeling her expression soften a bit, Arwen let her gaze fall to the counter before she returned both arms to the surface, balancing her elbows on the edge.

Putting off a threatening vibe to everyone she came into contact with was tiresome; infuriating at times. It wasn’t really who she was, but she had plenty of anger to expel, which made it easier on days like this. That aside, most of these people were rotten anyhow.

The satchel settled in her lap, Arwen tapped her thumb against the back of the other as she waited. Letting her gaze bounce subtly around at the space off to her left, she lingered on a few different individuals before drawing her attention back.

“Look a little tense there, kid.” The bartender announced, setting a glass down before pouring the liquid.

Arwen waited until he was finished and had pushed the glass closer before she grabbed it and downed it. She hid the grimace as the liquid burned her throat for a moment before setting it down with a grumble.

“Close call on a job.” She decided to say. Bartenders sometimes made small talk; it was harmless enough and this guy wasn’t giving off a deceptive vibe. She could always tell that about people; read their character, at least in the moment. Something her squa… it was something some people she used to know would call her ‘special power’.

“I’ve had my fair share of ones like you coming out with that look.” The man gestured towards her with the bottle of Ardees. “Boss sell you out on a job?”

Arwen eyed him for a moment, considering her options before giving a slight twitch of her eyebrow. “I’m sitting here aren’t I?”

“That you are,” He chuckled, going to pour more of the bitter liquid into her glass once she had held it out. Filling the glass he set the bottle of Ardees down close enough for her to reach before patting the counter. “Help yourself, kid.”

Arwen simply gestured towards him with the glass before going to drink down more of the strong liquid.

Once he walked away, she set the glass back down and cleared her throat. It had been months since she’d adopted the façade, but she still wasn’t used to the amount of alcohol she’d find herself consuming at times; even to appear to blend in with the criminal/low life element. The nature of her previous-... job… Prevented her from drinking often. And even then she didn’t really have a need to. Now she found herself with the occasional drink just to calm her nerves. Thankfully she could hold herself pretty well after consuming alcohol.

Swallowing the remnants of the bitterness in her mouth, Arwen went to raise the glass again.

“Hey- the Commander wants us back by 2300.”

Her hand froze before the glass reached her lips, parted lips closing as she clenched her jaw. Keeping her posture where it was, Arwen looked out of the corner of her eye, turning her head only a fraction to the left as she quickly spotted the source of the familiar voice.

“Of all the bars you could think of - you chose this one? Seems a little… dicey.” Arwen spotted the four clone troopers heading to an oval shaped bar area in the center of the room, their backs to her as they came to the counter.

“Maybe so, but not as bad as The Nexu’s Den; I heard they don’t even serve clones.”

“79s serves clones, and its not down here in the-”

“Don’t get your blacks in a bunch, this place is fine. The Corporal says he’s been here with some guys; they didn’t have any problems.”

Turning back to face the counter, Arwen’s grip on the glass in her hand tightened momentarily.

These guys were on break. The authorities probably hadn’t even processed the incident involving her yet. And by the armor markings- these guys were probably back on leave. They wouldn’t be a problem. But all the same… She needed to leave.

Grabbing some credits from the satchel, Arwen waved the bartender over before putting the small pile of money down, discreetly sliding it towards him.

He took it with a nod but quickly noticed the amount far surpassed the bill for her drink.

“I- kid-”

“I wasn’t here.” Arwen cut him off, searching his expression for a sign of reassurance to her comment.

The bartender processed her words before ultimately giving a small dip of his chin, carefully moving the credits to his pocket.

Arwen patted the counter and gave him a nod in return before getting to her feet. Swiftly swinging the rifle over her shoulder and securing the satchel, she began heading out of the bar.

Her eyes drift off towards the soldiers at one of the main bars, all seemingly enjoying themselves and toasting their drinks.

At the sound of their laughs she clenched her jaw and looked away before continuing out of the establishment. Before her thoughts could dwell too much on her past however, a medium sized ball of fur suddenly crowded her at the entrance to Lanter’s Tavern.

“Hey Bek,” Arwen chuckled, kneeling a fraction to greet the anooba happily panting, hindquarters shaking with excitement. Kneeling down onto one knee, Arwen rustled the fur around his neck before leaning back in surprise at the smell of the animal’s breath.

“Whoa- what did you get into?” Arwen can’t help the smile that broke across her face as she got to her feet once more. “C’mon bud,” Heading down the walkway outside of the tavern, the Anooba followed eagerly. “Let’s get something to eat.”

It was around 2200 by the time Arwen got to her basecamp for the night. She couldn’t stay in a hostel because of Bek; most establishments didn’t allow animals, and even then, she couldn’t trust such establishments to be safe - especially with the heat that could be coming down on her soon.

Fishing into the bag of food, Arwen pulled a couple of nuna jerky strips, holding one out to the Anooba who was waiting patiently.

She felt the smile tug at her lips as Bek didn’t waste time in beginning to chew on the meat. Lifting her own strip, Arwen peeled off a small piece before tossing it into her mouth. Her eyes rose to trace the skyline of Coruscant. Sometimes it looked alright… Right now it didn’t look too bad. The lights that covered the planet contrasted with the darkness of the sky; the lines of traffic were relatively calm; rush hour was long past. From her perch on the roof of a building she could see several notable structures, as well as multiple Republic cruisers in the distance.

The sight of one Republic cruiser in particular caught her eye as it departed from the cruiser staging area; a Venator-class star destroyer. The familiar rumble of the engines of the large ship made her chest tighten as she stared longingly after the vessel as it took off towards the atmosphere.

Drawing her eyes away, Arwen continued to pull at her jerky, putting a small bite-sized piece into her mouth. After giving a moment to consider it, she put the food away, having lost her appetite and pulled the satchel into her lap.

She felt the warm breath of Bek panting and looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

“You had your share, mister.” The anooba only gave a small bark of protest before beginning his circles to lie down.

Opening the satchel, Arwen looked over the credits and tousled them a bit before nodding to herself. It was more than she really needed. Not nearly enough to get off world, but half of it had a home to go to.

“Looks like we’ll have to hitch a ride to Saleucami, bud.” Arwen looked down at Bek, who had since curled up in a ball beside her.

His head perked up at her words, ears standing at attention before his mouth fell open and he began panting again.

Scratching along the standing fur of his back, Arwen gave her companion some well-deserved attention for a few minutes before resting back against the sloped structure acting as her bed for the night. One thing from her training she didn’t take for granted- learning to sleep anywhere and everywhere.

The Anooda next to her stretched his legs out, giving a yawn that showed off all of his teeth, and absence of the large front tooth, before settling back down. She had found him early on when she arrived on Coruscant. She had come across him while on a job, the target had ties to the animal trade; but when she found Bek, it was obvious he’d been used for dog fighting. He’d had his front tooth removed, a vital defense mechanism against other predators. Since the job he’d followed her around ever since; disappearing at times when she had jobs, but popping up hours later just as happy to see her.

Adjusting her head where she laid, Arwen let her eyes gaze up towards the night sky. It was settled. She’d head off-word; get to the outer rim or at least away from the core words for a bit. She could head to Saleucami and meet up there with a friend before getting back to it.

The Next Day…

She’d been to countless establishments - too many - looking for work. She needed a big payout to get off-world and she needed it fast. She was getting desperate. She’d visited at least two dozen locations now, and dealers and contacts that usually had plenty of jobs were coming up empty, or with jobs with too little a payout.

There would be plenty of work in the outer rim, but getting there was the problem. Just hiring someone to get you there, in the middle of a war no less, was the problem. The only stipulation she had was how job offers would change the further from “civilized planets” she got; it would be harder to stay anonymous as a gun for hire out there. Regardless of that risk- she needed to get away from the Republic before they started tying her to any jobs. If they knew some of the jobs she’d taken out… One could just say she wouldn’t see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of her life.

Not that she took “bad” jobs. She had been relatively consistent in keeping her jobs focused on the vile and corrupt; it was her methods of dealing with those people that the authorities wouldn’t agree with. And her… history with the Republic Military wouldn’t help matters.

Coming to a slow stop outside of one of the last establishments she’d come to know, Arwen found her eyes meeting the sign above the building: One Round - just your average dicey bar, however like many of the businesses, there was always some morally grey business going on the side. Your average civilian would see the name of a bar like that and assume it meant one round of drinks, which it did. But in the criminal world, it also stood for one literal round, as in ammunition. She’d gotten some credible leads from the bartender that ran the establishment. Hopefully he had something.

Walking inside, Arwen was quick to notice it was quite busy; more so than she’d expect it to be for the late afternoon. Bek trotted along at her side as she made her way to the back of the room where she knew Ramic, the bartender, would be. He seemed to spot her in the sea of people before she even did, and he waved her over to one end of the bar that was less crowded.

“Corcer,” He gave her a small acknowledgement as she stepped up to the counter and leaned forward onto it, not bothering to take a seat.

“Ramic,” Arwen responded in return, watching as he went about cleaning several glasses that littered the back counter.

“You lookin for the usual? Cause I hate to tell ya this, but I-”

“Actually, I’m looking for something a bit- stronger,” Arwen chose her words carefully as she watched the bartender’s movement and shifting expression.

He seemed to process her statement for a moment before looking over towards her.

“Stronger eh?”

Corcer dipped her head in response, forearms supporting her weight on the bar counter as Bek seated himself near her feet, facing away from the bar and towards the crowd.

“... I might have something.” He seemed to be considering his words, his voice grew quieter. “It’s no easy feat I warn ya. Few others tried it, and it was a little too much for their tastes.”

Shifting her weight around so her hands could clasp in front of her while she leaned on the counter, Arwen thought quietly to herself.

Most likely a high risk job. That might come with heat. She needed to be careful. Accept the wrong job and she could be in serious trouble.

“Have any other details?” She tried.

He gives her a small shake of his head, setting a couple more glasses down behind the counter.

“Sorry, kid. That’s all I know.”

Arwen nodded in response, the movement turning into a head shake as she internally cursed herself.

“Haar'chak - I’ll give it a shot.”

Ramic seemed hesitant, brow knit and hesitant eyes searched her for a brief time before he finally nodded and gestured towards the door a ways away from the bar.

“Your man is back there.”

Arwen looked to him and then the door, seeing two guards. Standing up straight, she quickly tipped Ramic with what credits she had in her pocket before heading over. She didn’t miss the nod he gave to the guards, most likely a signal to her let pass.

They stepped aside and Arwen walked through the space and down a small hall. She’d never taken a job directly through One Round before. Usually Ramic would point her in the direction of work, but it never originated out of the bar. He owned the establishment; unless things had changed recently.

Coming to the end of the hall, Arwen stopped at the final door. The muffled sound of the music from the other room was still within hearing range, but quiet enough that there must be sound dampeners within the walls of the hall and possibly the doors as well. Not a good sign.

Arwen looked down at Bek, seeing the anooba looking at her expectantly.

“You ready?” She deadpanned, cocking an eyebrow.

The animal stepped back and forth between paws, something he did when excited before giving a small bark.

She breathed out sharply through her nose in amusement before nodding.

“At least someone is.” She mumbled to herself before pushing the control panel button for the door. It slid up with ease, and she quickly met the gazes of multiple individuals. The majority of them were human, however there was a Duros present, and a Rodian. Just by body language and appearance, she quickly picked out the potential client, and when her gaze landed on him expectantly, he seemed mildly impressed.

“If Ramic let you in, you must be fit for the job.” He evaluated her momentarily, gaze lingering on Bek for a moment before returning to her eyes.

“Care to enlighten me? Ramic was pretty sparse on the details.” Arwen cocked her head to the side lightly, taking a few steps into the room. Getting comfortable in her stance, she rested her hands on her belt.

“Forgive him on that account,” The man had his hands clasped as he took a seat adjacent to a desk, facing her. “The nature of this task demands a certain level of delicacy. We can’t just have the details flying around, I assume you understand this.”

He was rather pale in his complexion, dark hair and a somewhat square jaw. He had a strong but almost dainty build, dark eyes and hair shaven down low to his scalp; didn’t look like the type to handle dirty work himself, but certainty had the deep pockets to have someone else do so. He evoked a certain confidence, but also perniciousness; it wasn’t enough to make her uncomfortable, but certainly cautious. There was something off about this job, she could already feel it.

“Of course,” Arwen appeased him with the response, and he seemed somewhat delighted, but remained eerily at ease as he rose from his seat.

“I need explosives planted at a certain location. A few have attempted other locations of the like, however they haven’t yet had success.”

Arwen swallowed in an effort to prepare herself to speak. This wasn’t the kind of job she was looking for.

“Where would this location be?” She asked.

“Destabilization is the key.” He all but ignored her question and continued with his subtle monologue.

“Enough with the dramatics,” Arwen cut him off, causing him to slowly turn with a soured expression. “What is the job?” Her tone leaked with mild agitation, expression relaxed but set hard in a display of confident frustration.

His eyes fell to her boots, and to Bek for a moment before they rose once more and he pulled a hand-held holoprojector. Activating the device, a hologram of a location rose into the room. The space was dark enough that she could easily make out what was in front of her and she felt a cold sweat start to bead between her shoulder blades beneath her armor plating.

“That’s a Republic Military base.” She stated, looking the hologram over further despite not needing to second guess before turning her eyes to the client.

“Indeed it is,” He responded. “My superiors would like to see a blow struck to it. We need someone to go in and plant the devices in suitable locations; casualty high locations are preferred; barracks, mess halls, weapons depot... Locations that will shake the Republic's stability, and hurt its military power here on Coruscant; but most importantly, weaken the people’s faith in the Republic’s military might.”

Arwen was quickly thinking it over in her head as he spoke. No easy way out of this situation. If she turned the job down, it was very likely that they'd kill her right here. This could be a Separatist cell, it was a likely candidate. However it could also be a crime faction. Didn't seem Hutt related, although she couldn't eliminate that possibility.

Taking in a steady breath, Arwen pulled her eyes away from the projection to meet the eyes of the client.

Ramic, needless to say, was caught off guard when Arwen slumped down into one of the stools in front of the bar.

“Well, how’d it go?” He puffed out a hard breath with amusement before going to pour something into a glass.

“You could’ve given me a little insight into my lack of choice in this job once I entered that room, Ramic” She offered, gesturing back with a thumb over her shoulder.

He gave her a subtly apologetic look before setting the glass down in front of her. “Sorry, kid, but if I told people that, then they wouldn’t be interested.” He chuckled and Arwen couldn’t help but do the same, however it was more so from the nerves if anything.

“How’s it looking?” He leaned on the counter for a moment as Arwen took the glass and downed the drink rather quickly. He watched curiously before his brow knit and he pulled his lip tight. “That bad?”

“Worse. I’m not looking for that kinda heat; I get caught or this goes sideways and… It’s not looking great.” She tried to sum it up simply, but couldn’t really find the words. She still needed to process this herself, and also beat herself upside the head with something.

Finishing the glass of the alcoholic beverage, Arwen set it down and patted the counter.

“Thanks for the tip.” As playfully reluctant as her tone may have been, the man seemed apologetic.

“Good luck, kid.”

Arwen pulled out some more credits, covering both the drink but also the job tip before giving him a lazy two finger salute. Briefly looking down at Bek, she made her way out of the bar.

The client, who didn’t even provide a name, had given her a set of coordinates. Once there, she’d meet up with one of his associates who would provide her with the supplies she’d need to carry out the job.

As she walked the upper streets and walkways of Coruscant she finally came to the end of the road. She’d call an air taxi and get relatively close to where she needed to go. Her eyes catch the sign above a building and she quickly realizes where she is; she’d been walking so blindly and ended up in the last place she should be.

The weakening daylight did little to dull the sign that blinked in bright neon colors: 79s. She knew it was one of the clone tolerant bars, even before hearing a trooper mention it last night.

Feeling her back begin to tense, Arwen searched the skyline for incoming traffic, but found no air taxis in site.

“Great.” She muttered to herself. She could be here a while.

Her rifle disassembled and hidden away in the satchel she’d acquired, she blended in alright. No one was paying her too much mind thankfully.

The various sounds, including the humming and rumbling of ships and speeders in the sky, as well as the chatter around her and music coming from the bar was distracting, but not enough to put her completely on edge. If anything she felt exposed where she was, it was pretty open and being at the corner of the walkway waiting for an air taxi was something she didn’t enjoy doing.

Her ears perked slightly, picking out familiar voices in particular.

She cursed quietly through her teeth before glancing to her right, seeing several troopers a ways down the walk, huddled near the railing of the walkway. A woman was cozying up to one of them.

Her interest perked, Arwen allowed herself to watch quietly as the woman let her hands glide along the torso and chest plating of the trooper who looked especially nervous but equally exhilarated as the troopers around him seemed increasingly amused by the event unfolding.

Arwen couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips before she forced herself to look away with a slight shake of her head. It was innocent enough.

A couple moments passed, and Arwen felt a nagging feeling tugging at her to look again. Finally giving into the temptation, she spared a glance towards the troopers and the woman, only to have her eyebrows jump in surprise.

She watched as the woman slipped a hand into one of the pockets of the trooper’s belt while he was distracted, snatching a few credits.

Arwen felt her lips part in disarray and astonishment. As if those men had anything to begin with, you've got pickpockets preying on them now.

The woman coddled him a little more before walking away in Corcer’s direction.

“Unfortunate,” Arwen muttered before adjusting the grip she had on her belt buckle. Taking a small step back, Arwen waited until the woman was close enough before smoothly and intentionally taking a wide step, tripping the woman and causing her to fall and the credits to go flying.

The woman let out a startled cry as she landed awkwardly on her stomach, hands splayed out towards where the credits fell out of her reach.

Arwen took several steps around the woman and picked up the scattered credits. People in the vicinity had noticed and the woman went to snap at Arwen once she got to her feet, but backed off once she got a better look. While Arwen was being rather discreet in her clothing, she still looked like a hired gun. That was for sure.

Bek growled at her side, catching the woman’s attention as she seemed infuriated, quickly disappeared into the crowd, hands balled in fists. Rolling the credits around in her palm, Arwen hesitated a moment before taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“How much did you have on you?” She turned, walking towards the troopers who still wore expressions of surprise.

“What?” One asked, familiar brown eyes wide. He was the one the woman was getting handsy with.

“Credits,” She reaffirmed. “How much did you have on you?” She tossed them lightly in her hand.

“Um,” He swallowed and stuttered a bit further, subconsciously going for his pocket before he swallowed, trying to recall as his comrades looked on with amusement.

Arwen took the moment the soldier was processing his thoughts to look him over. He looked so young. He must be pretty fresh off Kamino; the troopers with him looked about the same.

“Here,” She took the opportunity of him being distracted to lightly grab his wrist and push the handful of credits into his hand. It was probably three or four times as much as he originally had on him. “Watch those pockets, boys, alright?” She warned, a little taken off guard by the warmth in her own voice before she turned to leave.

“Th-Thanks,” The statement was called after her. “Don’t tell the Sarg.” The second statement came quieter and Arwen smiled.

“When we get back to base you’re gonna-”

The smile fell away and Arwen drew her attention off of the soldiers. The base… right. The one she was about to…

She walked for a while back the way she had come before finally grabbing an air taxi. After briefly squabbling with the driver over Bek’s presence, she finally got the Sullustan to take her where she needed to go. By the time she arrived at the destination, it was around sunset, and she met the associate on the roof of a building at the edge of the newly added Military district. The Republic’s main military base was within view; still under construction. It wasn’t the target she was being hired to hit. There were other military bases in the area.

The Quarren seemed curious regarding her, or maybe surprised.

He chuckled as he handed over a large cloth bag full of the ordnance she’d need.

“Good luck,” He muttered before walking away.

Arwen felt somewhat sick as she held the bag strap in an iron grip before looking over her shoulder as the being left.

“Take as long as you need. But it shouldn’t take more than a few days tops.”

She clenched her jaw before reluctantly returning her gaze to the Coruscant skyline ahead, towards one of the GAR bases that was in view, but much farther than the base currently under construction.

She gritted her teeth briefly before shaking her head, letting her voice slip out in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter | Arwen Corcer Mercenary Visuals

CHAPTER NOTE: Been stumbling over this chapter for a while, and I hope it turned out well! Getting Arwen’s introduction right has been causing me anxiety for a while so I hope she seems intriguing? Next chapter should be up soon! Next week with luck on my side 😁

Support in the form of a comment or reblog is very much appreciated if you had fun reading :)

#my fic #my writing #clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clones #grand army of the republic #star wars ocs #clone wars ocs #jedi #republic military #coruscant #79s #galaxy far far away

12 notes · View notes

one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years ago

Text

“triad”

Chapter 14: the sleeping world

Shorter chapter than usual, but get ready to see the result of all that secret true time magic training!

“Jesus Christ, you’re with a WOMAN now?!” Both Augustus and Sekke look like their eyes are about to bulge out of their faces, gazes snapping back and forth from me and Adeline’s clasped hands and our faces. Augustus splutters incoherently before pointing his sceptre at me accusingly. “I knew it! I knew you were just using Julius for the power! And now that he’s gone-”

“Your majesty-” I cut him off before he can actually start to upset me. “There’s such a thing as bisexuals, you know.”

“JFDSKL WHAT ON EARTH-”

Adeline bites her lip to suppress her words, and gives my hand a squeeze. I glance up at her, noticing that she’s starting to get a little uncomfortable. It’s fair, given that her history with Augustus is less than pleasant. I smile and squeeze back before continuing to walk past Augustus as he has his tantrum. We’ve just arrived on top of a large overlook, in the same area where the Royal Knights exam took place months and months ago. I had some of the royal mages terraform it, creating a large lake, plain, and forest. But from up here, we can see it all perfectly. What is this all for, exactly?

In order to increase morale and get some intense training in, I decided to make the Captains fight each other in a crystal destruction tournament. Not the most original idea, I must admit, but it will do its job. These last few weeks have been absolutely insane. The Devil Banishers/Believers incident was a real hassle to get through, and ended up costing us more than we thought. But it’s all over now, and it’s time to get some real work done before we send our representatives over to the Heart Kingdom.

And for me…

Today, I’ll see if my own intense training has paid off.

“Hey, where’s Fluffy?”

Yami crosses his arms before looking around. He and the other captains are already here, milling around awkwardly. I haven’t told them their teams yet, but everyone is already shooting each other dirty looks. “Huh, that’s weird, Rill didn’t tell me he was skipping.”

“Of course that brat skipped! At his age, he’d be skipping school, too, Keh Keh!” Jack cackles, licking his lips. “I was looking forward to slicing him up…”

“Well, what if he ended up on your team?” Charlotte points out.

“... did I stutter?”

“Please, save the fighting for the battlefield,” Nozel steps in before Charlotte can retort. “You’re going to need all the energy you have.”

Fuegoleon looks very eager to go, bouncing on the balls of his feet and flexing his fiery arm across his chest. I eye his movement suspiciously, getting distracted. “How come your shirt doesn’t catch on fire too?”

He shrugs, but gives me a grin. “Maybe today will be the day I burn so hot it does char my clothes.”

I clear my throat awkwardly before turning away to look at everyone. “Anyway- if Rill is a no-show then it’ll be 4 on 4. Now…” Admittedly, this changes my plans a little, but no matter. “Team one will be Yami, Jack, Nozel, and Kaiser.”

“WHAT? I have to be on a team with this stinkbug-” Yami immediately objects, but cuts himself off as I shoot him a glare. “Fine, whatever.” He catches Charlotte’s eye and suddenly grins. “Heh, looks like you’ll have to fight me, prickly-queen.”

“Good. I’ve been looking forward to teaching you a lesson.” Charlotte’s eyes only harden.

“Ooooh, why do I kind of like the sound of that?”

“Why-” Charlotte quickly turns pink. “You vulgar-”

“SO! Those are the teams!” I step in between them, smiling brightly despite the mounting tensions. “Marx just gave me the go-ahead for the broadcast, so I want you all to go down there-” I gesture out onto the plains. “-and await my signal!”

“Thank you.” Without another word, the eight of them split apart and jump down to their stations, gearing up for what promises to be a spectacular fight. I let out a sigh before turning to walk back to my chair, where Adeline, Augustus, and Sekke are waiting. William didn’t say a word… I don’t even remember him looking me in the eye while I was talking to the captains. Well, that’s just another thing I’ll have to do today.

“Hello?” A screen suddenly opens up next to me, and I see Marx’s face appear. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep!” Before I sit down, I turn back to the arena. I raise my arm, two fingers pointing up, and set off a powerful blast of magic, a bolt that goes careening into the air with a loud whoosh. It’s the signal to go, and boy… do they GO!

The battle that commences is like nothing I’ve seen before. Each of them knows they’re being watched by the entire kingdom via Marx’s communication magic, so they hold nothing back. Fire, mercury, darkness, plants, and everything in between goes flying, each of them desperately reaching for the other’s crystal while keeping theirs just out of reach. Half of the fight moves into the forest, the trees warping and billowing as William builds his own path out of his magic. Nozel and Fuegoleon only have eyes for each other, Salamander burning so hot that the lake starts to evaporate and steam up underneath it and Fuegoleon.

Their magic heats the air, sends vibrations through the earth, and towers high into the sky.

For a moment, I can’t help but feel guilty.

All three of them… would have made wonderful Wizard Kings. They are men who put their duty first, men who wouldn’t get caught up in the cycle of grief and greed like I would.

They are human men… they could care for this Kingdom far better than I could.

A soft hand squeezes my shoulder. Somehow, Adeline always knows what I’m thinking.

But… at the end of the day… the responsibility falls to me. Maybe I’m running out of time, maybe I’m compromised emotionally, but I made a promise, to Julius, to Adeline, and myself.

I am the Wizard King… and today, I’ll show everyone why!

Right then, without warning, the entire earth rumbles. I reach up and grab Adeline’s hand with one of my own, the other grasping the arm of my chair. Augustus yowls with fear, and Sekke goes tumbling to the ground. “What on earth is that?!” Adeline gasps.

My eyes widen, and I quickly point out into the forest. “Look!” A giant slash of darkness appears, tearing through the trees. A chill shoots through the air, causing every hair on my arms to stand at end. Oh shit! That’s Yami’s Dimension Slash! A grin grows on my face as it dissipates as soon as it appeared, leaving nothing but an eerie silence in its wake.

“Um… are they okay?” Adeline asks, narrowing her eyes as she scans the area. “I can’t hear any more fighting?”

“Huh… did Yami kill everyone?”

Just as I ask the question, I spot a group of people emerge from the forest. A few minutes later, they’re back up on the platform, and drop the shards of their crystals at my feet. I arch a brow, glancing between their faces. “What happened, exactly?”

“It’s no fair!” Dorothy grumbles. “I had Yami trapped in Glamour World, but then he just cut his way out!”

“And he destroyed both crystals while he was at it.” Kaiser gives Yami the side eye.

“Hey! I think our team should win. I did destroy the enemy’s crystal, after all.” Yami looks terrible; he’s covered with bruises and his white shirt is stained with what looks like dirt. His hair is so out of place he looks like a different person.

“BUT! You destroyed your own as well,” Fuegoleon objects loudly. “That lack of care should lead to a loss for your team!”

I can’t help but laugh, drawing their attention back to me. “This sure is a weird circumstance that I didn’t see coming… but…” I smirk as I start to realize my plan. “Maybe we should do a tiebreaker instead?”

“What is she doing?” Augustus was watching from his chair, talking to no one in particular. He glanced over at Adeline for a moment, who started to look very worried.

What is she up to?

“A tiebreaker?” Yami almost laughs at the suggestion. “Do any of us look like we’re ready for a tiebreaker?!”

“For once, I agree with him,” Nozel adds. He doesn’t look as bad as Yami, but his trademark braid is barely holding together after the furious exchange he and Fuegoleon just traded. Fuegoleon’s clothes are crisped at the edges, soot and smoke clinging to every part of him. During this tournament, even his own flames scorched through whatever usually protected him.

“I know you’re all exhausted! At least, you look exhausted.” I smile cheerfully between all eight Captains. “But, like I said, ending this with a tie isn’t all that satisfying… but!” I hold up a finger, finally getting to the point. “You’ll like what I have in mind! It’s easy!”

“Oh yeah?” Despite how tired he looks, Yami manages to grin, his hand already moving to the handle of his katana. “Spit it out, then.”

I keep smiling, almost giggling at his eagerness, but when I speak, my words are deadly serious.

“All you have to do to win… is make me move from where I’m standing.”

The earth stands still for a moment as my words sink in. Yami’s lighthearted expression suddenly fades into worry. Out of everyone here, he’s the only one who knows I’m pregnant, I think, maintaining my smile. He’s probably a little hesitant about attacking me… but the others…

“So…” Fuegoleon frowns. “We just… hit you? Knock you down?”

“If you want!” I reply cheerfully. “I’m sure some of you are angry at me for one reason or another, so…” My gaze sweeps over and lands on William. His eyes widen just the tiniest bit, but for once he doesn’t look away.

“Take out your anger. Make me move, if you can.”

Each of them is tired, exhausted, beaten and bruised, but that gleam enters their eyes as I tell them to come at me. That gleam comes back into William’s eyes. Because, above all, these Captains are the best in this Kingdom… and they want nothing more than to prove themselves. For glory, and for death.

All at once, their Grimoires are out, their faces shining with determination. Spells are being cast, and eight bodies move towards me with as much speed as they can muster. A moment of frenetic fury, because the first of them to hit me will be crowned the victor.

If they can hit me. This is my time to prove myself.

With a deep breath, I close my eyes before any of them can reach me. As soon as darkness falls, I can feel it; mana pulsing from the earth, up through my legs, and out with each breath I release.

The laws of nature… Time is at the center of them all.

I open my eyes, and the spell activates. Mana words, glowing whitish-blue, burst to life around my head in a spectacular double halo. Mana courses through my body; a body that was made for the purpose of holding mana. The body that deems me as inhuman, that houses a broken, dying soul, yet gives me the power I want more than anything.

“True Time Magic… Domain of Thanatos.”

Each rune circling my body spells out the same word: Stop.

And that’s exactly what happens.

------

This ability is True Time Magic: Domain of Thanatos.

Thanatos… the god of peaceful, non violent death.

Julius’s Time Magic had the power to steal and give time as he wished, from any object that he could please. But he could not control TIME itself. Time as it exists in nature, a rushing river, always moving forward.

But even a river can freeze.

This magic gives me control over that river, over the speed that it flows. Although I cannot force it backwards… I can slow it down until it stops.

With this ability, I put the entire world to sleep.

With this ability… no one will ever stop me.

-------

The moment my spell activates, all eight of the captains freeze, and their attacks become suspended in midair. I let out a slow breath, allowing a smile to grow on my face. My hand stays frozen in the air for the time being, because I have to calculate every single move with the upmost precision.

See, the catch to stopping time is that it doesn’t last very long if I just start moving. Maybe two or three seconds at most. However, I managed to find a condition where I can stretch the length of time within Domain of Thanatos; I allow time to start to flow with my movements, so slow and smooth, but just fast enough that I can do what I want.

So… easy now…

One finger. Then the next. And another. Until I’m no longer reaching out; I’m pointing. My first target is Yami.

Sorry… this’ll only hurt for a second.

With each finger, he only twitches slightly, moving forward a mere millimeter.

Flame magic: Solar Bolt.

My attack shoots through him, as fast as outside of this spell.

And now… the others…

I move in a half circle, one by one, casting my bolt and watching them fail to react to being hit. It’s surreal, being here all alone in some weird little world. But I remind myself that this solitude is because I am in control.

Finally, William is hit, the last of my eight targets. I let out a shaky breath, my smile widening. So… now I just have to worry about their spells. Each of them have only moved a few inches, but are now getting dangerously close. With each Solar Bolt I fired, they clipped closer, sped up in time with my spell. I can feel my control weakening, and something that smells like blood is starting to bubble up in my nose. Despite that, I stay calm, letting Blazing Spear materialize in my hand.

And…

I take one last breath of air within Domain of Thanatos.

Release.

My arm swings through the air, bringing the spear along with it, and I slash through the spells, my trajectory carefully calculated due to the observations I made earlier. I have to duck once though, avoiding Yami and Dorothy’s spells. I look up just in time to see the eight of them stumble back and fall, stunned by the instant attack that came from seemingly nowhere.

“Look at that… I’m still standing.”

Yami groans and rolls back up into a sitting position, a curious glint in his tired eyes. “What the Hell was that?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Nozel winces, clutching the spot where my bolt hit him. “How fast did you just move?”

I let out a little laugh, a twinkle in my eye. “Actually, I moved very slow… I made everything move very slow.”

Most of them have sat up by now, all of them still shocked and disoriented, but now they’re looking at me in a new way. The look in their eyes is familiar; it’s the same way they all used to look at Julius in battle. The shock, the awe… the admiration.

Are they really looking at me?

In that moment, my pride deflates. Despite the fact that now, maybe, they can see me as more than just Julius’s replacement, I feel so… humbled. These eight amazing people accept me.

Even William, the one I manipulated and betrayed, sits there with a smile on his face. An easy, happy smile that I remember from our days together long ago.

Finally, I clear my throat.

“That… that was true time magic.” I take a step towards them as I explain. “I developed it by applying the Heart Kingdom’s methods to my Time magic. There’s still a lot to explore, but one thing is certain.”

I come to a stop in front of William, then hold out my hand.

Please William… forgive me.

“We can all get stronger… think carefully about who you send to the Heart Kingdom.”

William’s smile fades, but the expression on his face is one of understanding.

Of course I forgive you. You’re my friend.

“This magic is our hope.”

He takes my hand, and I pull him to his feet.

NEXT TIME!!!! Chapter 15: the devil comes knocking. A short time skip into the future, and shit is about to go DOWN.

#fjaksdljfkdls #finally I'm getting into the actual spade arc after this #also LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF LISA"S NEW BUFF!!!!!#triad #fic #oc: lisa #black clover

9 notes · View notes

mrs-takami-keigo · 4 years ago

Text

Baked Lovin’

Parings Hawks X Quinn (OC)

Rating: EXPLICT! 18+

Warnings: Recriational drug use, fingering, oral sex

Description: Quinn never thought that Hawks meeting her old college friends would end up with him being as high as a fucking kite off of a few bites of an edible. Quirkless AU

Word count: 4.6K

Taglist: @katsukikitten, @honeytama, @prismaroyal, @hawks-senseis, @tui-lah

Notes: This is my fourth tile off of my BINGO sheet for the @bnhabookclub event! The tile prompt for this was High Sex and honestly this was freaking fun to write and use my OC Quinn for more than my SERIES she’s in.

At first, she was hesitant, her friends were on the wild side when they all got together. It was like they were all twenty or twenty one again, partying before an exam, and never getting a hangover.

“I don’t know Hawks. I’m not sure they are your kind of crowd.” Quinn said to him two weeks before the gathering. They were at home in their shared apartment, her and Hawks just having finished a hard day of work. Their schedules were perfect, Quinn worked as an executive for her uncle’s clothing brand called Todoroki Threads. While Hawks was the model and co-owner for Hotwing's, an alternative clothing brand made by her cousin and him.

When her uncle found out she was dating the ‘enemy’ he was livid but Quinn knew how to handle her uncle. Over time he gave up trying to break them up, seeing how she wasn’t letting go of her beloved boyfriend.

“I want to know the people that were around you during your roaring twenties.” Hawks crept up behind her as she prepared their dinner. His large hands ran down her sides, stopping when he reached her hips.

“Hmmm if you were to meet that Quinn, she would eat you alive little dove.” She pushed her plump ass against his sweatpants clad lower half, feeling his semi-hard cock brush against her.

Hawks let out a low groan as he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, tentatively giving it a lick.

“I’m sure she would, firebird.” His grip on her hips tightened as he ground himself against her. “Why don’t you show me, baby?” He growled against her ear. And just like that dinner was put on hold while she had to show him just what she was capable of.

After continuous begging and just being plain out annoying, Quinn gave in and allowed Hawks to come with her and she was slowly regretting it. Having him in the states let alone in New York City was a mistake. He wanted to go to every tourist attraction, eat at every food cart he could find and on more than one occasion he got lost when he decided to venture off on his own.

“Hey, are you sure you still want to do this?” Quinn asked from the bathroom as she finished putting the last touches of her makeup on. Fluffing up her curly hair, she took a good look in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Well hello there beautiful.” Hawks walked into the large penthouse bathroom, leaning against the sink as he eyed his girlfriend. No matter how many times he saw her dressed up, she looked like a fucking goddess in his eyes.

The way her tight high waisted jeans hugged her thick thighs, showing off every curve perfectly. Her hot pink bustier pushed her full breasts up, the color emphasized how beautiful her golden sun-kissed skin looked. She wore her hot pink wedges that matched her top, her manicured toes peeked out from the tip of the shoe. A simple look of a winged liner and glossed lips only enhanced her natural beauty.

“What? You’ve been staring at me for like five minutes and it's creeping me out.” Quinn walked up to him. She was only about two inches shorter than him, but whenever she wore heels of any kind Quinn would end up being an inch or so taller than him.

“Just thinking about how fucking perfect you are.” Hawks lazily wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in. “How the hell did I get a woman like yourself to fall for a bastard like me?”

Quinn let her hands run up his chest to the back of his neck, where she played with the soft short hairs on the nape of it. “Because I have a thing for arrogant bastards who are gorgeous and have some good dick.”

“You do love it when I dick you down don’t you?” Hawks brought his face closer to the woman in his arms, the tip of his nose brushing against hers. His breath was mingling with hers as he spoke, those golden eyes she fell in love with were filled with desire. “Maybe we have time for a little demonstration.”

“I don’t think so dove, not when I’ve spent so long to get ready.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips, stepping out of his embrace and into the bedroom. “We have to leave now and get a cab. Everyone should be at Chris’ place soon.” Looking back at the bathroom door, Quinn got a full look at her boyfriend.

People would think that Hawks was a fashion-forward kind of man, seeing as how he was a model and had a clothing brand. But in fact, it was the exact opposite, Hawks was a simple dresser. Like tonight he wore a white slim fit v-neck t-shirt, a silver pillar chain hung from his neck. Black jeans with frayed holes on his knees and black vans that had red wings painted on the sides of them. Thick silver rings were on some of his long fingers, and a red braided yarn bracelet that was accompanied by some random black metal bracelets. It may have been simple but god was he sexy.

Hawks walked up behind her as she put on her golden hooped earrings in the mirror of the bedroom. Moving her thick burgundy and black curly hair to one side he kissed her shoulder.

“We’ll just have to have a full-on ride test when we get back.” Hawks locked eyes with her through the reflective object, her hazel ones were just as dark and full of lust as his.

“You better remember that promise baby boy.” Her voice was low, sending shivers down his spine. Hawks opened his mouth slightly on the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting it. That was his way of letting her know she was gonna get fucked tonight.

When the two finally made it to Quinn’s friend Chris’ house everyone was already there. Music was pumping through the large apartment, drinks in everyone's hands, and friends catching up with each other.

Quinn and Hawks were at the bar getting their drinks when she felt her body be lifted from the ground and spun around.

“If it isn’t Q!” Just hearing the voice Quinn knew exactly who it was.

“Mocha! Still as loud as ever!!” She giggled as he kept spinning her around while her confused and amused boyfriend watched.

Gently putting Quinn down Mocha pulled her in for a bear hug. “It’s been too long.”

“It really has, Mocha, it really has.” She heard Hawks cough behind her. “Oh Mocha, this is my boyfriend Keigo, but he goes by Hawks. Hawks this is Mocha, one of the best people to ever grace this earth.”

Hawks shook his hand, glad to meet such a good friend of Quinn’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You did good Q, he fine as hell.” Mocha winked at Hawks, causing the shorter male to laugh.

“Hearing that coming from someone as beautiful as you are a blessing in its own.” Hawks wanted to make a good impression on Quinn’s friends, he knew how much they meant to her.

“Now that’s a man! Come y’all let's go to the balcony, the rest of the dance team is over there.” Mocha grabbed Hawks’ hand, leaving Quinn to grab the drinks as she ran after her friend and her giggling boyfriend.

“Wait so you're telling me, Quinn, like MY Quinn, used to dance?!” Hawks was sitting on the edge of his seat, Quinn had a hand over her face as her friends decided to tell him every little detail about her college life.

“Yeah, and she had a stage name.” One of her female friends said digging Quinn even further down the rabbit hole.

“Wasn’t it a bird of some sort. Oh, wait I got it, wasn’t it Phoenix?!”

“Shoot me now please.” Quinn sunk lower into the chair, trying to just disappear as Hawks looked at her.

“Yup! Everyone called her Phoenix, she even had a Fanclub on campus.” Mocha was enjoying seeing his friend like this. “Broke a lot of hearts too.”

“Oh really?” Hawks raised an eyebrow at Mocha’s statement, glancing over at Quinn. “You were breaking hearts instead of doing your studies huh?”

“Fuck off, I will not be slandered like this.” Quinn got up from her seat, grabbing her drink. “I’ll be inside talking to my real friends.” She heard the group chuckle as she stormed into the living room.

Quinn had been hanging out with some of her other friends when Chris came up to her.

“Well well, if it isn’t Ms. Phoenix.”

“Hello, Chris.” Her voice was monotonous as she took a sip of her second drink that night.

“Still the ice queen I see.”

They both stared at each other before bursting out laughing. “Ice queen, how original.” Quinn pushed him on the shoulder, the tall dark-haired man rubbed the spot she pushed.

“Damn Quinn, what do you do for a living fight crime? Why are you so strong?”

“I hate you.” Chris was her best friend in the entire world. She would kill for that man, and he would do the same for her.

“Would you really hate the man that brought you a present?” Chris reached into the backpack he had, pulling out a neatly wrapped lucky charms cereal bar.

“Is that what I think it is?” A wide grin spread across Quinn’s face as she reached for it.

“It sure is, all two hundred milligrams of it.” If there was a guilty pleasure of Quinn’s it would be weed. Back in her college days, she was what the media and police would call a pothead.

“And you brought it for me?!” She pretended to have tears in her eyes as she took the cereal bar from his hands.

“Anything for my favorite girl.” Chris smiled at his best friend while she ate half of the illegal treat. Wrapping it back up in the plastic, Quinn put it in her small purse, continuing her conversation with Chris.

The night had passed on, Hawks was introduced to more of Quinn’s friends and before she knew it people started to leave. That’s when Quinn noticed she hadn’t seen Hawks for about an hour now.

Walking up to Mocha who was helping Chris clean up she asked, “Have you guys seen Hawks? Last I saw him was when I asked for him to hold my purse while I used the bathroom.”

“I saw him sitting outside.” Mocha nodded to the balcony. Turning over her shoulder she saw Hawks lying on the lounge chair staring at the sky.

Stepping through the sliding glass doors, Quinn squatted down next to her boyfriend. “Come on baby let’s go back to the room.” She was already feeling the edible she ate from before, it was finally kicking into her system.

“Have you ever been able to feel every nerve ending in your body?” Hawks kept staring at the sky, his body still, except for his chest moving up and down.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” Quinn moved his legs over so she could share the chair with him.

“I can feel every nerve in my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.” That’s when he looked at her, his golden eyes were glossed over, with a slight tint of red where the white was.

“Oh fuck!” She grabbed her purse, ripping it open. Digging around her purse she couldn’t find the other half of her edible. “Keigo, baby did you eat the cereal bar in my bag?” Her hands were pressed against the sides of his face, making him focus on her.

“I was hungry, speaking of hunger can we get something you eat? I’m starving.” He had a goofy grin on his face as he spoke to her. Quinn could only hang her head as she realized, she had gotten her boyfriend high for the first time.

“What do you think this sauce is made of? It's amazing!” Hawks shouted through the hallway of the hotel.

“Shhh! What did I tell you about being quiet?” Getting Hawks back to the room deserved to be an Olympic sport. He wanted to talk to every person he came in contact with, kept asking Quinn for kisses, and when she did he would scream “I won! I won!” to the sky. She had finally got him to quiet down when she bought him some Halal from the cart down the block.

“Oh yeah, we have to be like ninja’s.” With his white container full food in his hands, Hawks pressed himself against the wall, tiptoeing as he walked.

The two finally made it to the room, where Hawks plopped on the couch and rubbed his belly.

“That was amazing!” He kicked off his shoes, sending them flying across the room.

“Good, now I’m going to go take a shower, so behave.” She didn’t want to leave him alone to his own devices but she had to. “Keigo promise me you’ll behave.”

“You got it, baby, anything for you.” He sent her a wink before he threw his head over the back of the couch.

Sighing Quinn walked over to the bathroom, not shutting the door all the way just in case. She peeled the tight clothing off of her body unaware a pair of dark golden eyes were watching her every move.

The shower was quick, seeing as Quinn opted to not wash her hair. Walking out of the steaming bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel, Quinn had expected to see Hawks laid out on the bed or on the small couch passed out. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Panic started to run through her body as she thought the worst.

“Did he walk out for more food?’ Oh god, please just don’t get arrested!”

Quinn was about to go for her purse to grab her phone when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her towards a hard chest.

“Where are you going firebird?” Hawk’s growled in her ear, his tongue coming out giving the shell of her ear a soft lick. She could feel his rock hard dick pressing against her.

“Hawks what are you doing?”

Hawks didn’t answer her right away, he let his hands travel down her stomach, to where the small slit of the towel was, slipping his fingers inside. He grazed his fingers against her sunkissed golden skin, shivers ran up her spine. Hawks nuzzled his nose into her neck, exhaling gently against it.

“God you feel so good, just let me feel you.” Hawks opened the towel, letting it fall to the floor, pooling around their feet. “It’s like I can feel every single nerve in my fingertips. It’s like electricity shooting through my body.”

Quinn let her head fall back against his shoulder, the effects of the edible were still coursing through her body. She could feel every nerve as well and right now with just his touch she was ready to cum for him.

“Wait until you feel this.” She grabbed his hand, bringing it down to her wet pussy. Hawks' fingers immediately started to play with her slick folds.

“Oh fuck, your so fucking wet for me.” She could feel his lips kiss along her shoulder, his hips involuntarily bucking against her.

She reached up to cup the back of Hawks neck, her delicate fingers played with his hair. Hawks continued his slow torture on her pussy, his fingers would just slide against her, going between grazing her hardened clit and her pulsating entrance.

“Get on the bed for me, on all fours baby.” Quinn was so lost in his touch that she hadn’t heard him speak to her. Getting frustrated Hawks used his other hand to grip her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His lips brushed against hers as he growled.

“On the bed now!” Quinn could only moan in response, with the way he was making her feel right now, words failed her.

Doing as he asked Quinn climbed on the bed, hands and knees pressed against the soft white bedding, back arched and ass up and in full view for Hawks. She could hear the rustling of clothes behind her, glancing back she watched as Hawks pulled his shirt over his head. His arm muscles flexed as he started to undo his belt.

Quinn bit her bottom lip as she watched him, she always knew he was sexy and so goddamn good looking but right now, he looked like some kind of god. His messy blonde hair was sticking up everywhere, those golden eyes that kept looking over at her were still glossed over. She couldn’t help herself, reaching one of her hands under her, she started to play with herself.

“Keigo.” She moaned out his name when she slid two fingers into her wet pussy. Hawks was down to his boxers about to take them off when she called out his name, stopping his movements. His eyes darkened as he watched her slide those fingers in and out, pleasuring herself in front of him.

“AH!” Quinn looked behind her to see Hawks down on his knees, his teeth digging into her ass. Releasing his teeth, Hawks looked her in the eyes as he licked the wounded area.

“I couldn’t resist, your ass just looks good enough to eat.” He peppered kisses along her cheeks. He had each hand full of her ass, eyes closed. He was enjoying feeling her against his lips. That edible made him feel like he was on top of the fucking world, with the love of his life face down and ass up of him, he felt unstoppable.

“You better get to eatin’, baby boy.” Quinn pulled her fingers out of her soaking wet cunt, pressing the side of her face against the bed. Her hands reached around, spreading her cheeks to present herself to him.

Hawks felt his mouth water as he eyed her glistening sex. He’s eaten her out more times than he could count but never like this. Running his hands over her ass, up her back, his pink tongue came out, swiping it across her pussy. He moaned against her, her juices hitting every taste bud on his tongue.

“Fuck!” wrapping his arms around her thighs, Hawks brought his lips back to hers, lapping up all of her juices. He made work of his tongue, between flicking it over her clit and then gently sucking on it.

Quinn’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her mouth open as soft whimpers came out of her. If there was one thing Hawks knew, it was how to use that sinful mouth of his. The way his tongue felt on her, the slurping sounds he made when he sucked on her clit. His grunts and moans against her were nothing but vibrations that made her toes curl and her thighs shake.

“Do that again Keigo.” her words came out as a moan when he stuck his tongue inside of her. Hawks loved to please her, he had a pleasure kink. He wanted to make sure she knew it was him doing this to her, making her scream his name in pure ecstasy. So if Quinn said to do it again, he was going to.

“Yes just like that, don’t fucking stop.” Her arms were stretched out across the bed, gripping at the comforter. She could feel the tightening in her lower abdomen, knowing if he kept that up she wouldn’t last much longer.

Just as she felt it building, Hawks pulled away from her. Lifting up her torso from the bed she looked under her to see Hawks turn himself over, the back of his head rested on the bed, his face directly under her pussy. Using his legs he propped up his lower half, a large hand jerking off his hard cock, his other hand playing with her folds.

“Arch that back for me.” lowering herself back to the bed like before, Quinn felt Hawks slip a finger into her entrance. “So fucking tight.” After a few pumps in and out of the wet entrance, Hawks added another finger, stretching her out.

“Bring me that pussy, baby girl.” Spreading her legs further apart, Quinn lowered her bottom half, her pussy was back on his lips. He went back to what he was doing before, sucking on her now extra sensitive clit while he fingered her.

“Oh my god please don’t stop! I’m so close.” Quinn planted her face against the soft material, biting it. Hawks stopped moving his hand that was around his cock, instead he wrapped it around her waist, holding her against him.

With two fingers inside of her, Hawks curled them up, hitting her bundle of nerves. Quinn was positive it was because of the edible she ate that it made her extra sensitive. She felt that tight bundle in her lower abdomen release itself as she came on Hawks fingers.

“Holy fuck Keigo.” Her body convulsed ever so slightly as he kept licking her clean, making sure to get every drop of her essence.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He bit her inner thigh, making sure to leave a mark in his wake. Sliding out from under her, Hawks walked over to his luggage to grab a condom. Quinn took this moment to try and catch her breath. Moving to the middle of the bed, she laid on her back with her hazel eyes closed, legs slightly spread apart. She was too fucking high for this, between the edible and the way Hawks made her see cloud nine she wasn’t sure if she could keep up.

She felt her body slipping into sleep mode when she felt hands wrapping around her ankles, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“Don’t you dare sleep firebird, I’ve got a raging hard cock just for you.” He was kneeling on the bed, her legs over his hands while his arms locked them in place, her ass slightly off the bed. Her thick thighs were touching but she could see Hawks’ cock resting in between her slick folds, his hips rocking gently, brushing against her sensitive clit.

“The way you have me feeling right now is fucking insane.” He continued to move against her, as he watched her squirm. Soft plump lips were slightly agape as she purred for him. Her beautiful curls were fanned out around her, her baby hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead. Those breasts he loved so much moved with each grind he did against her. Hazel colored eyes staring right at him as he looked over her body.

“Fuck Quinn you look so beautiful right now.” Pulling back Hawks aligned himself with her entrance. Slowly he eased inside of her, watching as she took every inch of him.

Hawks let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, once he was fully inside of her. Her walls were constricting around him. Her small hand reached out to cup his face, her thumb brushing against his swollen lips. Closing his eyes Hawks leaned into Quinn’s touch, kissing her thumb.

“You have no idea how much I love you.” It was a whisper but Quinn heard it and she felt her heart quicken its pace.

“Move Keigo, please I need it, I need you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, slightly pulling back he thrust his hips forward, back into her. Quinn’s eyes rolled back into her head, as a moan slipped past her lips. Hawks thrust were slow and deep, making sure she felt all of him. But he was slowly losing and uphill battle.

Quinn knew he was sensitive because of the drug and she wanted him to cum just like she had.

“Come here.” She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, bringing him down to her. Letting go of her legs, he put them over his shoulders, bending her in half. His nose brushed against her rounded one, breaths mingling with each other, his hips never stopped moving.

“No one has made me ever feel the way you do Keigo. The feeling of your dick inside of me, my walls stretching around you is the best feeling in the world baby.” Their eyes were locked, his hips moving faster. Yes, he had a pleasure kink, but he also had a praise kink.

“That’s right baby fuck me. Make me scream out your name while I cum for you and only you!” The grip she had on his neck tightened and he moved faster and faster. The position had him going so deep inside of her, pushing against her soft bundle of nerves.

She could feel his hips stutter in their movements, he was about to cum. “That’s right Keigo Cum. I want to feel it, I’ll cum with you, just don’t fucking stop.” Moving her face to the side her lips met his in a kiss that was messy and full of tongue.

“Fuck Quinn!” Hawks broke the kiss, closing his eyes and his forehead rested against hers. The sound of skin slapping against each other and their moans filled the room. Hawks felt like he was flying through the sky, the stars were right in his reach.

Quinn felt it too as if she was flying along with him, not caring about anything but the man on top of her as he brought her to a new kind of high.

Hawks opened his eyes and he felt his heart stop. She was looking right at him, her eyes full of love and lust for him. He was sure his own mirrored hers. Mouths were opened, only shuddering breaths were coming out with each deep thrust. Quinn’s hands traveled to his back, raking her nails across his skin, leaving red marks behind. She was so close and so was Hawks, with one final thrust, they both felt that white-hot flash run through their body.

“FUCK!” They both screamed as their release hit them at the same time. Slowly they rode out their orgasm, Hawks moving slowly and Quinn’s body going limp. Pulling out of her, Hawks took off the condom, knotting the top and tossing it in the trash can.

Slowly he let down her legs, moving next to her, he placed one arm under her shoulders and another under her knees. Gently he moved her further up the bed to where the pillows were, moving the comforter so he could wrap her in it.

Once Quinn was snuggled into the bed he walked over to the light switch, turning it off. Climbing onto the mattress next to his beloved, Hawks placed an arm over her waist, his head resting on her chest. Quinn moved her free arm to rub her finger through his soft hair. Lulling him into a deep sleep. The love between them didn’t need words, they knew that they had something different, something real.

Quinn opened her eyes to the sound of a water bottle being crushed. Her mouth was dry as if full of cotton and her lower half was sore. Sitting up she saw the white containers of what looked like Halal food and Hawks clothes thrown around the room. Flashes of last night flooded her mind.

“Baby why am I so thirsty?! What was in that cereal bar?” Hawks was sitting in front of the minibar, opening his fourth bottle of water.

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

#bnhabookclub #bnhabookclub bingo event #bnha hawks #mha hawks #keigo takami x oc #keigo takami #bnha smut #tw: drugs #bnha #bnha x oc #mha x oc #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x poc

38 notes · View notes

parkerxchesteruwu · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: Danger

Beads of sweat fell from his face as he struggled to keep his breath manually altered, rhythmic and tranquil, holding himself from the flickering flame beneath his own skin. He could feel the wick he’d shown to the world slowly begin to spark; a lighter was being held up against his heart and he was letting it happen.

He’d always found himself to be the skeptical type - never stopping to listen to something out of his own field of view. Even the most stubborn were aware of their own stubborn tendencies. But now, in this light, when things were dim, he’d become open to possibility. Whether crawling too close to the moonlit fire was dangerous was up for interpretation.

“Parker..”

His own name rolled off the tongue of the man beneath him. The darkness struggled to highlight the smaller’s features, but even now he could pinpoint the rigid jawline and angular facial characteristics of his best friend. What had led them to be so close, lips moments away from connecting, was beyond him - one booze after another fogs the brain. His breaths were labored, and smelt like alcohol. He knew it was only the chemicals in his brain that were making him act like this; and even so, it felt right. The crisp lines of light from the half-open blinds shining illumination onto the other man’s features told him so. In the harshness - helplessness of the moment, he couldn’t help but say his friend’s name back.

“Chester.”

“Hey, dude, come have a look at this.”

Parker’s eyelids fluttered at his best friend’s voice. He stood in the corner of the room the two of them always found themselves in; Parker’s kitchen, where they’d edit content for money and split the pay at the end. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy making videos to put on youtube, though there were cons. Having corporate business owners ask him, ‘What do you do for a living?’ was a problem in itself. But he knew he had it well enough.

Parker responded to Chester’s words with a frenzied smile - he knew the drowsiness of the half-open blinds revealing nothing but black and strips of illumination were getting to him. Sleepless nights of editing footage for a video that’d probably get copyright stricken within a day did numbers on the man’s strength to stay awake. His ambition to work normally coincided with his desire to create - his stubborn tendencies, maybe. He’d been told in his early childhood something along the lines of ‘When you start things, you see it through to its completion’. Parker supposed that was productive in all the ways it could be; but in terms of his mental health, that’s where things plummeted.

Without a worded response, Chester’s eyes darted to the figure making his way over, and he cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms, leaning back on the wooden chair he comfortably sat at. “Can’t you turn on the lights or something?” He stifled back a chuckle at Parker’s drowsy state, “The blinds are making your forehead look shinier than your career.”

“Our career,” Parker retaliated with a playful undertone. Their banter was always something he savored with a gentle delicacy - it was something only they could have, and it was personal. Their mixing personalities intertwining together to make whatever their lives were brought a special touch to Parker’s daily struggle. It was the lighter of an unlit hole - the fire in a dark cave. Something he held onto with a passion. A stubborn, arrogant passion.

Chester smiled with sincerity. “Anyway, take a look.” His hands gestured to a laptop screen with its brightness at the lowest setting - requested by Parker himself - displaying an email inbox they’d come back to every couple of weeks. the same old same old, but he savored it. He savored everything when it came to Chester.

“What am I looking at?” Parker bit back a grin. He could feel his friend’s all-so-familiar glare seething into his features, and then came the scoff. “The email.” Parker saw it crystal clear. “Which one?”

“Parker.” Chester’s tone was a little more serious, and he still managed to forget he was smiling. Parker could pinpoint the exact curvature he’d see when the smaller man grinned. It was something he did a lot, according to Parker; he was bad at pretending to feel something he wasn’t. Lying was a given weak point, too.

“Sorry, sorry.”

His eyelids drifted into pale submission as Parker found himself lowering to Chester’s point of view - he stared at the screen and read through what he was instructed to; a video proposal, and an idea. A muttered “What do you think?” came from his best friend, left unto Parker. Parker’s thoughts.

“I think,” He began, leaning upwards again and placing a hand on the table Chester sat at, gripping the wooden ledge. “We should worry about it tomorrow.” The light dripping through from the half-open blinds hit his irises in just the right spot and he had to blink. “Be serious.” Parker bit back with a nonchalant glare. “Be quiet.”

He found his feet propelling him to a colder part of the kitchen, locking eyes with the food-bank; the fridge. Unstable cognition and the need for relief brought his hands to the freezer, pulling on the handle in safety. He felt safe, like this.

He could feel Chester’s eyes glued onto his figure. He reached into the freezing compartment and grabbed hold of an icy cold beer - a bottle he could hold onto without it slipping from his hands. His hands fit around it nicely. He stopped for a moment, and in the silence he’d grabbed another - not for himself, but for his friend.

“You can’t get drunk while we’re working.” Chester scoffed, typing away at his laptop’s keyboard. “Nobody said I was getting drunk. Just a few drinks, is all..” He closed the freezer with a nudge of his foot, “Besides. You should be thanking me.” Chester’s eyes darted from the screen to Parker’s hands and he rolled them in his realization. “I brought you one too.”

“Oh, however will I repay you for this kind act..” Chester’s sarcastic tone lingered on his words, falling off his tongue like they were meant to be. Parker took the opportunity. “Drink with me.” He found a seat next to Chester and placed the two bottles on the table, small drops of icy water falling onto the table. It probably tasted refreshing, by the look of it. Though dimly lit, it felt like they were in one of those beer ads.

To enjoy something like this with his friend was something he savored, too. Everything was held onto when it came to Chester - looks, and smiles, and words. A gentle admiration he displayed in small acts of sarcasm. He really adored his friend.. and he was surprised he’d stuck around to deal with someone like him, too.

“Just for you, your majesty.” Chester stifled an ‘annoyed’ grin and took hold of one of the bottles, leading Parker to do the same. “Cheers.”

Parker knew that he was tough to be around. Even in his good moments, he was to-the-point, and a skeptic. He’d be left with strong, solid evidence and still want to go further. He was one to go beyond his limits - his personal boundaries - and he knew it was dangerous, but the edge of it kept him going. Out with the old, and in with the new. Things were always new with Chester.

They took a swig in dismembered sync, feeling the icy cold substance fall down their throats and into their body system. It was relieving, and sharp, and had an edge to it that was dangerous. Parker knew he’d be getting drunk that night; the first sip had pulled him into that mindset. but at least he’d be getting drunk with Chester.

Drinks and drinks, laugh after laugh, his clock out of service and the night still apparent. They were in Parker’s living room now, on their 3rd, or 2nd, or something along the lines of that. Parker’s distinguishable features were covered by the blindspot of their dimly-lit illumination, as were Chester’s.

He felt safe like this. Even in his intoxicated state, he felt safe, knowing he could spend his nights savoring these moments like he always did. He savored Chester. What did it mean, to savor Chester?

“So...” Chester was in the middle of speaking through slurred sentences and giddy hiccups. He wasn’t new to the feeling of being drunk; of course, you’re not always aware of it when it happens. But he knew when Parker had sat next to him that it was how the night would end, and he’d accepted it before his mouth could say it straight.

The blinds’ lights shifted as a passing car’s headlights focused the illumination on a different part of the open spaces, and Chester’s features - his angular jawline, and rigid facial characteristics - were heightened, through the crisp sheen of light. It was only for a split second, but through the blurred moments and loss of time it felt too long to be normal. A moment where everything Parker savored was there, in front of him, in safety. He felt safe like this, in savor. But he also knew he had a knack for going over the edge. Feeling dangerous.

Before he could pinpoint what he was doing, his own desire to feel unsafe poured over him, and his glares became heavier, and more personal. He felt safe like this, but he loved to go beyond the boundary. Cross the line, just to see how it goes.

It seemed like Chester noticed it too. His breaths became shorter, but deeper, if that made any sense. The alcohol had gotten to the two of them hours ago and the air felt hot. Thick. Passing cars became the only noises beyond their own breaths. This was the taste-test of beyond savor - beyond Parker’s limit, his own morals, and his own thoughts. He knew it was weird of him to be like this. He knew it was wrong, because he’d never think of Chester of anything other than his friend. But that’s what he felt safe in, and he was ravenous for danger.

He moved closer. He liked the way danger felt. Sharp, and blunt, all at the same time. Chester’s grip on his bottle faltered as he placed his beer down on the coffee table near the couch. In his arrogance, he knew that Chester was aware of his hunger, and whether he was hungry too was beyond him.

Thick. Thick, and heavy, the air felt almost intoxicating to hold in his lungs. This was scary, and this was dangerous. The way the adrenaline pumped through him was addicting.

There was no time to savor, now. Opportunity arose and Parker was ready to fall victim to his arrogance. Once starting something, he’d see it through to its completion.

A hand moved to Chester’s thigh, clothed in demin jean he couldn’t remember the colour of in the dim light. After a moment of thick silence and awaited protest, the flags of danger rung in his brain, realizing Chester was not stopping this. The hunger for danger.. all of it, turned to Chester, his best friend. Savoring Chester was just a fool’s copout for the hint of something more beneath his glares. No words. Just thoughts, and emotions, and silent compliance. he wanted this. Chester wanted danger, too.

“Parker..”

“Chester.”

#whatthefuckdidijustwrite fanfiction?? pleasethiswasjustmeantobeajoke chester parker paster PASTA lifeofluxury luxurypranks

11 notes · View notes

askygokindredshipping · 4 years ago

Text

Never say “Yes” to Ghost Hunting... Unless....

Summary: Ghost Hunting AU anyone? Judai and Johan are sensitives and realize that Yusei is partially sensitive when he momentarily spots their familiar spirits Yubel and Ruby. However, Yusei doesn’t believe in them and thinks that the two of them are out of their minds. Can looking for non-existent beings lead to something else? (No Duel Monsters in this AU. Yubel and Ruby are both human spirits that died generations ago.)

Author’s Notes: Now that I am in a place where I don’t feel completely overwhelmed by everything and can remember to actually post here, here it is! This is the story I kept promising for that mini bang I was apart of! @hyperionnebulae did a fantastic job of setting it up. I’ll link the full collection at the end. Also, I had an amazing artist and I’ll edit this post with their information. The piece that they did is *chef’s kiss*. I do know that you can visit their DeviantArt page and I highly encourage you to do so!

Anyway, enjoy!

Yusei’s face was not looking down at the screen of his laptop, but instead, he was staring at the two men sitting across from him. It was a warm, sunny evening and he had decided that he was going to do some of his work at the local coffee shop so that he could focus. Focus. What a funny word it was. That was exactly what he was not doing.

Two young men were sitting at the table next to him, chatting amicably about something he didn't quite catch. While they were both very appealing to the eyes, they didn’t interest him nearly as much as the two people sitting next to both of them. These two figures were translucent and clearly injured. He was not a doctor, that was Aki’s area of expertise, but he’d seen enough in his day to recognize deadly injuries like those. The tallest one (Yusei couldn’t quite determine which gender either of the translucent people were and decided it was probably best not to assume anything) had a scar that went down its face, nearly dividing it in two and what looked like a jewel embedded into its forehead. Their hair was a soft, metallic blue color. The other one was shorter with wide, ruby-colored eyes and lavender colored hair, a clear bloodstain blooming from their chest and out against their lovely lavender blouse. The tall one said something to the man next to it. He responded casually. Like… like there was nothing wrong!

Yusei blinked.

They were gone.

He breathed in deep and quickly turned back to his computer screen, the words suddenly not making any kind of sense as something cold shot up his spine. No. There was no way. Those things did not exist. He refused to accept what he had just seen. There had to be a logical explanation.

Didn’t there?

“Excuse me,” a voice asked him, “Are you alright?” He looked up. The two men at the table were now looking at him. The one who spoke had teal-blue colored hair and equally blue eyes; he wore a light lavender colored blouse-style shirt with a darker blue vest over the top. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“Or you’ve seen a ghost,” the other added. He was dressed in a dark t-shirt with a red jacket over it. His hair was a light brown and stood out in nearly every direction (not that Yusei could judge with his own black mess) and his eyes were a warm brown. He took a breath as he registered the statement. A ghost? Those things did not exist.

But….

“I’m fine,” he finally answered. He couldn’t stop himself as he blurted out, “but what happened to your two friends?” The two of them shared a look.

“It’s only been us here,” the brown haired one said.

Yusei blinked, “You mean you don’t have two friends that are dressed up for Halloween somewhere around here?”

“Oh, they just left,” the blue haired one cut in just as the brown haired one went to say something. He shot the other a look and it seemed to take a second but, eventually, he got the meaning and quickly clamped his mouth shut again.

“They couldn’t have left that quickly,” he argued. “Are you pulling some kind of prank?” They shared a look again, and Yusei started to get mildly annoyed with it. They didn’t say anything to him for some time. Finally, he closed his laptop and stood to pack his things. Clearly, this was not where he was meant to be. Before he could walk away from the table, the brown-haired guy caught his wrist gently; electricity shot up Yusei’s arm and he flinched at the sensation even though it did not hurt. It felt a bit good.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, releasing him. “It’s just… Can we walk with you for a bit? Here’s not the place to talk.” Yusei blinked. A couple of alarms went off in his mind, but he ignored them, in favor of nodding his consent, and the three of them left together.

The brown-haired guy leaned forward as they walked, “I’m Judai Yuki and this is my partner, Johan Anderson.” Johan raised a hand in greeting when Yusei looked at him.

“Yusei Fudo.”

“Nice to meet you Yusei,” Johan greeted. Judai smiled and continued introducing the two of them.

“We’re paranormal investigators; basically, we work to help people in desperate situations involving anything they can’t explain or handle.” He straightened, walking forward a little bit. Yusei couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Ghost? You two deal with ghosts?”

“More or less,” Johan nodded.

“You do understand ghosts aren’t real?” They shared another look.

“Yeah, that’s what a lot of people say.”

“But we happen to know differently.”

Yusei stopped and leaned his head to the side a bit, “Alright, I’ll bite. What is your proof? A grainy photo? Horribly shot night-vision scenes? A scar you got from something being magically thrown at you?” Johan snickered and Judai had to cover his mouth with his hand. After a few seconds, the two of them could not help but laugh at his response. Yusei was taken a bit off guard. “What’s so funny?”

“You were so deadpanned when you were asking,” Judai breathed.

“It was hilarious,” Johan added. Yusei found himself blushing a bit, and he turned his head away, trying to not let them see how embarrassed he was. They recovered after a few moments. “And to answer your question, nothing like that.” He pointed off over his shoulder, “Do you see them?”

Yusei looked, then shook his head. “See who?”

“Our friends from the café,” Judai clarified. Yusei looked over their shoulders again, but still only saw the street in front of them. He shook his head.

“Nobody’s there.”

“But you did see them in the café?”

“I saw something ,” Yusei pointed out. “I don’t know what it is I saw.”

“Deny it all you want Yusei,” Judai returned, “but you did ask us about it, which meant that you did see them.” He pointed between the two of them. “Johan and I are mediums. We can communicate with spirits and we’re pretty certain that you’re at least a little bit sensitive since you could see our familiars briefly. You can’t see them right now even though they are standing next to us without utilizing too much of theirs or our energy.” Judai nodded, as if his point made a whole ton of sense. “I wonder what it would take to help you see them again? What made it possible at the café?”

“Do you think the setting had something to do with it,” Johan added. “I remember reading a report that that café has natural running water under it.”

“That might have something to do with it.”

“You two are crazy,” Yusei returned. Nothing they said made any sense! Ghosts didn’t exist, but now they were claiming… all of this ? Johan smiled at him apologetically.

“It’s a lot the first time. You probably don’t believe us, but I have a suggestion.” He clapped his hands together. “Why don’t you come with us tonight? We have a job at a local place this evening. It’ll give us a chance to show you what you’re talking about and to confirm if you are sensitive or not.”

“Full offense, but I just met you.”

“I know.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” That took him by surprise and Yusei felt staggered a bit. “But you might find it more interesting than you think. I promise.” Yusei looked between the two of them. Logically, he had no reason to trust either one of them. Something in his gut, though, told him something completely different; it was whispering that he should take the chance and see where this was going to lead. After a few seconds of the two of them staring him down, he finally sighed. He raised his hands in defeat.

“Alright. I’ll join you.”

Johan and Judai smiled at each other.

My, my, my- how the night had suddenly turned around.

*****

The house they were investigating turned out to be an older mansion on the outskirts of the city. Yusei made sure to let a couple of people know where he was going. Martha was worried, of course, but Jack and Crow got a huge trip out of the fact that he, Yusei Fudo, was going ghost hunting. Of all things in the world.

What a weird first date , they had teased.

He had left the house with red across his nose and both cheeks, but he had not given them the satisfaction of seeing it. Yusei slammed the door on his way out.

He now sat leaned up against his red motorcycle. Neither of them had arrived yet. This left him time to do a little extra research on the address on his transparent tablet. The mansion was built in the year XXXX by a rich mogul who wanted a place for his new bride to be the mistress of; however, he built over sacred ground, despite multiple warnings, and thus, “cursed” the home and his family for all eternity. They lost several children in birth and early into childhood. Eventually, the wife passed of an illness, but information on which one was scarce. Her death was the final straw for him. The mogul retired from the home and disappeared into obscurity. It was left to rot. Reports of families moving in and immediately moving out were plentiful in the first few decades after the original owner’s leaving, but quickly teetered off as rumors of a haunting became more prevalent.

He scrolled up on his tablet, murmuring. “Reports of a white lady…. Children laughing… shadow figures…. Objects being thrown. So just your run of the mill hoax?”

“Well, even if it is a hoax, it’s still our job to ease the worries of our customer.” He looked up, not necessarily startled by the sound of Johan’s voice, but a bit surprised that he hadn’t heard them approaching, especially in the large, older van they were driving. Judai was behind him, starting to mess with some equipment. Yusei closed the tablet and placed it in his pocket. “We’re glad you decided to come. What’d you find in your research?”

“Nothing out of this world,” he confirmed, arms still crossed. “Pretty standard reports. White lady, children, objects being thrown.”

Johan nodded. He turned his head a bit, as if listening to someone, and he smiled after a few seconds before saying, “That was pretty much everything we were able to find or was given to us as in our initial customer request.” He paused for a second, “I better help Judai with the equipment. As brave as he is as a ghost hunter, he’s a complete ditz when it comes to setting it up.”

“Would you like me to help? I’m fairly good with technology.”

Johan shot him a grateful smile. “You don’t have to. We’re the ones that invited you out here.”

Yusei rolled up the sleeve of his jacket. “Don’t worry about it. I might as well do something useful now since I’m probably going to mess up your results anyway.” Johan shook his head but led him over to the wired mess that had become Judai. It took them about an hour, once they had untangled him, to set up all the equipment they planned to use and since they were getting paid a hefty price, they were using everything . EVP, static night vision, Mel meters, motion detectors. You name it, they had it. The sun was starting to set when they finally started to sync up all their equipment, recording audio introductions on their three different recording devices. Johan helped Yusei into a specially made vest with several different pieces of equipment attached to it such as a night vision camera, perspective camera, and a few other useful tools like glow sticks, back-up batteries, and flashlights. Yusei felt the electricity again as his hand brushed his arm. A soft blush touched his cheeks. He did not miss the fact that Johan had one as well. Was it possible that he was feeling it too? What was even more astounding to him was that this was the second time he had felt it… with both of them.

Judai smiled brightly when they came back from the back of the van, “That vest looks good on you Yusei.”

Oof, that blush was not going away any time soon.

“Thank you,” he managed to get out without sounding like a stammering idiot.

Yusei had had feelings for people before in his life. Aki, the young lady who had become one of his greatest friends of all time, was one such example. His friend Kiryu was another. However, he had never been in this kind of situation before; his feelings for the previous two had come at different times. This was new. And a bit confusing, especially with how fast everything was moving.

“Are you feeling alright,” Judai asked. Yusei turned to face him. He was looking up at him, his brow furrowed a bit. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”

“You make it sound like I’m regretting my wedding or something.”

“Hmmm, I’m pretty sure this isn’t as stressful as a wedding.” He smirked. “But if you’re feeling scared, I recommend hanging back behind us.”

“I can’t be scared of something that doesn’t exist.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Me being scared or ghosts being real?”

“Yes.”

Yusei shook his head as he walked away, and he followed. Johan bowed mockingly as he opened the front door. Judai gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before blowing a kiss back at Yusei and disappearing into the darkness, only the light of his flashlight illuminating a soft outline of his head and left shoulder. The two of them followed.

The entryway was as bad as you could imagine. Dust clung to everything. Spider webs decorated every corner, and the stairs, and the molding, and the walls, and basically every available square inch. Old paint and wallpaper were missing in great chunks. The building material was old and decayed. An odd sensation of dread shot through Yusei the longer he looked down the hallway. There was no discernible reason for the feeling. He grabbed both Judai’s and Johan’s shoulders, preventing them from stepping any further inside.

When they turned to look at him, he raised his hands apologetically, but dropped them and breathed, “Something isn’t right.”

Judai blinked, quickly looked to his right, and briefly nodded. “What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that if we go any further, something bad is going to happen.”

“But we’ve already been in here multiple times,” Johan assured him. “We had to set up all the static cameras, remember?”

Yusei hesitated. That was true. They’d already been in and out, and up and down all sets of stairs, as they’d been busy setting up static night vision cameras in a couple of the hotspots, specifically where the white lady and the children were often seen and heard moving about. Nothing seemed to happen during that time, and he rationalized that they would be fine in this moment.

The feeling, on the other hand, would not leave him alone.

He started to say something again, but Judai started moving inward and Johan followed. The feeling grew worse as he raised a hand to stop them.

A white figure suddenly appeared at the end of the narrow hallway. The three of them froze, but Judai, after a few seconds, threw a hand back. What Yusei could not see was how his eyes shifted from brown to green and orange, ready for whatever was about to occur. Johan took a step back. Something creaked. The white figure raised its head and with an unearthly scream, it shot forward at them. Judai jumped back. Johan moved in front of Yusei which put the three of them into roughly the same spot on the floor. Yusei looked down immediately as the sound of breaking wood caught his attention; just before the figure could reach them, he grabbed both of them close to him.

The floor gave way, and they fell into darkness.

*****

“Yusei, Yusei, Yusei!” He blinked. Everything felt sore and painful. It took him a few moments to remember that they had fallen through the floor. He groaned. Thankfully, nothing seemed broken, but he was going to be feeling this for the next few days; Martha was probably going to order him to go to a doctor, and for once, he probably wouldn’t protest it. A soft smile crossed Johan’s face. He was momentarily confused.

“I’m dead,” he breathed, “I swear I’m seeing an angel.”

“You wish,” Johan laughed. “But Judai and I owe you quite a bit for saving our lives.”

“What happened?”

Johan crossed his arms, contemplating on how much to share. “Well, you see….” He paused and changed his question, “Did you happen to see a white figure come at us?” Yusei shook his head.

He struggled to remember. Nothing came to mind however and he shook his head. “All I saw was you and Judai get defensive.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he mused. Louder, he said, “Anyway, we all were standing on the same space and the floor gave way. You just barely managed to brace us against you before it happened. You took the brunt of the injury.” He pointed to some old bags of flour that were clearly busted in the fall. “You really do have to have a guardian angel at least since this is what we landed on. Judai went back upstairs to double check everything. We should really get out of here.” He stood. Johan offered out a hand, which Yusei took gratefully. Together, they made their way back up the stairs and, to his surprise, the sun was starting to rise.

How long had he been out?

Judai was at the back of the van, putting away most of their equipment. He looked up when they exited. Without hesitation, or warning, he ran for Yusei, catching him in a tight hug; Yusei flinched a bit but accepted it.

“Thank you,” Judai breathed. “We wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.” After a few seconds, he released Yusei’s waist, backed away from him, and bowed. “I’m also so sorry. I should have listened to your warning. I know better than to ignore things like that.”

Yusei waved a hand. “No harm, no foul.”

“Well, a little harm,” Johan reminded him, elbowing his side. He flinched again. Johan walked over and wrapped an arm lovingly around Judai’s shoulders. “As such, breakfast is on us.”

“If you’d like,” Judai quickly added. Yusei did not miss how brightly red his expression had become and he smiled.

“Sure,” he agreed. “As long as the ghosts aren’t invited.”

“No promises,” they said together.

The three of them managed to hook their transportations together and rode back to town in the van. Yusei looked out the window. He was surprised when a weight hit his shoulder; Judai had slumped over, soundly asleep. Johan smiled apologetically.

Something swelled in his heart. He turned to look out the window once more and mused that he would not mind trying it again. Ghost hunting that is. Falling into decrepit basements he could definitely do without.

Judai shifted a bit on his shoulder and Yusei looked down at him softly.

Yeah, maybe just one more time.

*****

Thank you so much for reading!

The story on AO3

The mini bang collection

Check out LightningClawedSky on Deviantart

Support me on Ko-Fi

#kindredshipping #yusei fudo #johan anderson #judai yuki #jesse anderson #jaden yuki #ghost hunters au #tw death #tw injuries #tw blood mention #ghosts #I said I would pilot this ship if I had to #and I completely meant it

15 notes · View notes

samayla · 4 years ago

Text

An Utterly Impractical Magician

Chapter 10

A Jane Eyre/Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fusion fic.

Also on AO3

Summary: When John Reed burnt Thomas Godbless’ book of magic to spite his cousin, he had no idea how drastically he would alter both her fate and that of English magic.

@majorxmaggiexboy @shygaladriel @bookhobbit @wolfinthethorns @kaethe-nicole @warsawmouse @cassandravision @mythopoeticreality @jmlascar @seriouslythoughguys @isawatreetoday @rude-are-food @the-stars-above28 @the-candor-shadowhunter

Let me know if any of you would like to be added/removed in the tags list. I know updates have been super sparse, so if any of you want to be removed, I'll totally understand.

A Child at Hurtfew

Hurtfew Abbey, July 1805

Jane could smell Lowood School. Its muddy, sickly stink clung to her clothes and skin and closely-cropped hair. It had gotten all over the mossy-green bed linens in the night, and the damp cloud of it surrounded her and marred the clean, soapy freshness of the servants’ hall and the warm, exotic spice of the cinnamon Mrs Porter had just sprinkled over Jane’s porridge.

“Eat up, dear,” said the cook, adding a handful of raisins to her bowl for sweetness. “I daresay you’ve missed quite enough meals already.”

Jane obeyed, though the stench of mold was making her ill, and her fingers were stiff and sore around the handle of the spoon. Mrs Porter stayed to watch her eat several bites, then returned to her work in the kitchen as Childermass lurched into the hall, looking nearly as haggard as Jane felt. He took a seat across from Jane and bid her a good morning. “I hope you slept well, Little Miss, or at least better than you did in the carriage last night.

“I did, sir. Thank you,” was her quiet reply, though in truth she had slept very ill indeed. All night she had been plagued by disturbing dreams of Mr Norrell storming into her room in a fit of rage. In some dreams, he transformed into Mr Brocklehurst, red-faced and spitting sparks, lording over her as the damp smell of that rotting chapel clogged her nostrils. In other dreams, he became Childermass, his hair a churning thunderstorm, come to say that his cards had been mistaken, and he’d have to take her back now. Then he’d become Norrell again, lamenting time and effort wasted, and he’d open the door to a library, but instead of bookshelves, it was the yellow-white lambs on peeling green plaster. They grew jagged teeth as she watched, and he’d shove her through to be consumed, starting with her hands.

Childermass appeared skeptical of her polite lie, so Jane made herself eat another bite of porridge, hoping that would appease him. He watched the clumsy way she managed the spoon, then swapped his plate of buttered toast for her bowl and spoon. At her clear bewilderment, he made a pinching motion with his free hand. “The toast’ll go easier for now, until the swelling’s gone down some. Tuck in.”

He took his own advice and made short work of the porridge, leaving Jane to nibble nervously on the toast. As he’d predicted, the toast was indeed far easier to manage than the spoon, and she quickly discovered that it settled her churning stomach as well.

“Good morning, dears,” Hannah chirped as she bustled into the servants’ hall with a tray of used breakfast things from upstairs.

Jane and Childermass chorused their greetings in return.

“Mr Norrell is in the library, Mr Childermass,” the housemaid said. “He expects you and Miss Jane presently.” She offered Jane a warm smile, but Jane found she could scarcely return it. Her last bite of toast sat like lead on her tongue. She tried to keep her sudden anxiety off her face, but Childermass caught it.

“Easy, Little Miss,” he said soothingly, pushing her cup of water closer. “I know he gave you something of a fright last night, but you’ll learn soon enough not to put too much credence to Mr Norrell’s moods. My master is the sort of fellow who likes nothing better than a good, righteous vexation — and me disappearing on him for nigh on a fortnight, then turning up —”

“— at the wrong door —” Hannah put in with a sly smile.

Childermass smirked but continued earnestly, “— with a stray child in tow… Let us just say I gave him enough cause to be well and truly vexed, and it should have put him in fine spirits this morning.”

“He’s a bit quarrelsome yet,” Hannah offered, setting her tray down beside Jane’s place at the table, “but that’s just his nature. You make it through this morning, and I expect he’ll mostly forget you’re even here, unless we march you through the library once a month to remind him.”

Jane giggled at the mental image of the short-sighted bogeyman of last night’s dreams peering dazedly up at her over a heap of books. Her hands flew to her mouth in horror, but Childermass was smiling as if he could see it too. “That’s the spirit, love.”

Hannah gave Jane’s shoulder a squeeze. “Would you like me to come along, dear?” she asked in a conspiratorial stage-whisper. “We can’t count on these foolish menfolk to think of everything that will need doing now that you’re here.”

Jane smiled in earnest, even as she glanced up to make sure Childermass still hadn’t taken offense. He caught her looking, and she blushed. “That’s a fine idea, Hannah,” he declared.

They made an awkward procession as they made their way through the big, empty house. Childermass took the lead, and Jane followed with Hannah, her arm laced through the maid’s, leaving her attention free to wander and take in her new home. The whole place had a strange air about it. Not quite neglect — it was far too clean for that — but disused, Jane decided. Like a pressed flower, it was perfectly beautiful, but at the same time brittle and somehow faded in something other than color. Like the memory of a place.

“This is the way to the library,” Childermass said, drawing Jane out of her musings to find herself standing in front of a heavy oak door in a richly appointed parlor. “Mr Norrell is quite particular about his library, Little Miss, and he will not take kindly to anyone venturing into this hall without his permission.”

“I understand, sir,” Jane said, her voice choked by both nerves and anticipation. This was where her books had gone! She remembered Childermass’s words about his master’s collection, back at Gateshead. If she were very good indeed, perhaps she might even be permitted to choose a book to read. She hadn’t had a book in her hands since leaving Gateshead all those months ago, and she felt the loss like that of a limb. Its ache grew even sharper as Childermass led the way through a long hall that meandered around far more corners than should have been possible.

Jane’s skin began to prickle like the air before a lightning storm, and she drew in a shuddering breath at the thought of having one of her fits here and now. Images of the fire in her dormitory at Lowood sprang to mind unbidden. She’d be thrown out. She’d have nowhere to go. She’d —

“We’re nearly there, Little Miss,” Childermass said suddenly over his shoulder. He looked pale and unsteady in the dim hall, and it occurred to Jane that he was nervous. The realization was terrifying, but she resolved to do him proud. He had come halfway across the county to claim her; she would be brave enough for a walk to the library. She pictured her books, held the image of them steady in her mind as a talisman against the sparks she could feel gathering at the edges of her vision, more than ready to erupt into chaos.

A dull crash sounded somewhere up ahead, and then, so suddenly that Jane nearly ran right into him, Childermass brought them up short at another door. He glanced once at Jane, seemingly as startled as she and Hannah were at the door’s sudden appearance, but then he pulled it open, and they leapt back as a great pile of books cascaded into the hall. Mr Norrell stood on the other side of the heap, looking quite startled and more than a little alarmed.

Jane bent to retrieve the nearest book — Tott’s English Magic — but Mr Norrell’s voice rang out like a slap. “No, no, no! Can you not smell the mold? The damp? I will not have it so close to the books, Childermass! I cannot! Out! Out to the parlor, if you please!” And whether they pleased or not, they were herded out of the library, back down the strange hallway — which seemed somehow much shorter and strangely lacking in corners in this direction — and out in to the parlor beyond. Mr Norrell slammed the heavy door behind himself. He stood, wig askew, handkerchief over his nose, and glared at his servants.

And quite unexpectedly, Jane found herself crying.

“Do-do not cry, child,” Mr Norrell said softly, his voice almost that of a different man entirely. If Jane hadn’t known any better, she might have thought she’d imagined his outburst in the hall. He lowered the handkerchief with clear reluctance, and Jane felt even worse. The air in the parlor felt too close, the rotten stink of Lowood consuming all the air in the room.

“I did not mean to distress you.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jane choked, trying and failing to get her emotions under control. She knew she ought to dry her eyes and behave as a respectable young lady, but she found she could not move. Her hands were wound so tightly into the back of her skirt that her palms stung and her fingers throbbed in time with her runaway pulse.

“Oh, sweetling…” Hannah pulled her close, and Jane buried her face in the fabric at her hip. Hannah’s clothes smelled of lavender soap, and Jane drew in great, heaving lungfuls of the scent, releasing them on high, thin cries she could not control. She was horrified. They would send her away, surely, cast her aside like a broken doll.

But Hannah’s fingers were gentle in her hair, stroking through the uneven stubble over and over again as she murmured soft reassurances. Slowly, Jane came to realize that Hannah was not angry with her. And if Hannah was not yet out of patience, then there was yet hope for the gentlemen, if Jane could calm herself and do something to repair this ghastly first impression. With a monumental effort, she stepped away from Hannah’s side. She clasped her shaking hands in front of her, though her every instinct was screaming at her to hide them safely away.

If anything, Mr Norrell appeared to be even more discomfited by her efforts. He shook his head when she opened her mouth to repeat her apology. He offered his handkerchief, which she accepted at once, pathetically grateful for the excuse to look away for a few moments.

“I only…” he began, sounding even more unsteady than Jane felt. “I only meant that mold is a pervasive beast. Your clothing and things from that… place… are already compromised. They will have to go.” He began to sound more sure of himself as he continued. “I would not tolerate such an abominable lack of care for my books, let alone a child. Such environments breed illness like a dung heap breeds flies. It is a wonder you have not succumbed to such conditions long before now.” At Jane’s stricken look, he caught himself and withdrew at once from such dire pronouncements. “B-but fear not, child: we shall order you new things. Fresh, clean dresses. And a new bonnet free of vermin, so you might have lovely, long hair — i-if you wished it, of course…” Mr Norrell trailed off uncertainly, and Hannah took pity on him.

“You shall be pretty as a doll, sweetling,” she said, laying her warm hand on Jane’s shoulder and offering another squeeze. Tears flowed anew. She wanted her doll. Sad, crumbling thing that it was, she missed it fiercely. Sparks crackled at the edges of her vision, and Jane rubbed her eyes in an effort ot make them go away. Hannah knelt and pushed Jane’s hands away, instead using Mr Norrell’s handkerchief to dry her eyes. “For now, though, I think perhaps it would be best if you came back upstairs for a bit more rest, hmm?” She smiled encouragingly, and Jane nodded.

“Yes, yes, an excellent notion, Hannah,” Mr Norrell said, looking quite relieved. “Childermass had you out inexcusably late, Miss Eyre. It is no wonder you are overwrought this morning. I myself have something of a headache after all the excitement, though it is nothing a warm cup of mint tea will not cure.”

“I’ll send Lucy along with a pot of tea presently, sir,” Hannah offered.

“Yes, Hannah. Thank you. A cup would do Miss Eyre wonders too, I should think.” He looked quite pleased with this pronouncement. “Childermass, I’ll have your help in the library. I’ve half a shelf’s-worth of books on the floor. It was the strangest thing —”

But Childermass, who had been fiddling with something in his pocket while the other adults dealt with Jane, cut him off. “I’ve one more matter to attend to with Miss Eyre, sir. I’ll join you in the library after you’ve finished your tea.”

Jane cringed. If any of her Aunt Reed’s servants had spoken so impertinently, the would have been let go on the spot, without references. But however irritated Mr Norrell might have felt at the interruption and proposed delay, he did not argue. He merely nodded and retreated back through the door that led to the library, muttering to himself about dresses and shoes “and bed linens, no doubt.”

A cup of tea and rest in her own room. Not a switch. Not even a reprimand for toppling the books — for she had little doubt that it had been her fault somehow. She could scarcely believe it.

Jane started and nearly fell as Childermass appeared at her side and tucked her free arm around his own. “I’ll deliver her to the kitchen for her tea shortly, love,” he told Hannah as they all left the parlor. Though she was confused and more than a little frightened — for she was keenly aware that Childermass had come off worst in their encounter with Mr Norrell, even if it hand only amounted to an indirect scolding over the lateness of their arrival — and she would much rather go downstairs for some tea with Hannah, Jane held her tongue. She had been quite childish enough already, she decided, and it was time to prove how well-mannered and mature she could be, even if she was still struggling not to cry.

Childermass led her through the smaller, more intimate rooms along the back of the house — all well-preserved, but just as forlorn as those they’d passed through at the front — and out into the back garden. “I owe you an apology,” he said conversationally as they walked down a manicured gravel path between some low hedges.

“You cannot be held responsible for the speed of the carriage, sir,” Jane said quickly. “And you did warn me to sleep along the way.”

Childermass blinked, then chuckled a little sadly and drew to a stop. He knelt in front of Jane, who was growing more alarmed by the moment. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the crumbling ruin of Jane’s doll. “I’m afraid I stepped on her back in the chapel, love.” He laid the little bundle in Jane’s outstretched hands. “I’m sorry. I don't know how she got to be in my pocket this morning, but I thought you should know what had become of her."

Jane just nodded and sagged down to the gravel as it began to rain out of the clear, blue sky. She had known Helen’s sad little doll wouldn’t last forever. The leaves had been dry and fragile when she had died, but now they were mostly jagged stems, and the acorn face was split nearly in two.

“What’s her name?”

“Derwen,” Jane whispered. Helen had told her it meant oak.

“Well, Little Miss,” Childermass said, standing and ignoring the rain that was steadily soaking them both, “let’s you and me and Miss Derwen take a walk, shall we? Up you get.” He helped her to her feet and led the way in among the low, carefully trimmed hedges. He soon abandoned the path entirely and lifted Jane over those hedges that they could not walk around, until they stood in the very center of the garden, in a near-perfect circle of neatly cut grass.

To Jane’s utter bewilderment, Childermass knelt in the center of the circle and plunged his pocket knife into the ground. The rain slowed to a drizzle as he dug, first with the knife, then with his hands. The mud caked itself beneath his nails and around the cuffs of his jacket, but Childermass continued to dig with complete unconcern. “Got to be deep enough to keep the squirrels from smelling it,” he said when Jane leaned closer to get a better look.

“Smelling what?”

“Miss Derwen.”

Jane lurched back, shoving the doll behind her back, and the skies opened wide once more.

“Easy, Little Miss,” Childermass said with perfect composure. He sat back on his heels. “I mean you no harm, but your doll is broken and quite beyond help. But —” He extended a hand for the doll, and Jane, who had been at Lowood far too long to ignore such a clear command, handed her over. Childermass took her gently and tipped her to the side, his filthy fingernails prizing gently at the split in the acorn. “Look just here.”

Jane looked, and she saw to her amazement that inside the ruin of the acorn was a tiny shoot of pale pink and white.

“She’s trying to put down roots,” Childermass explained. “She may be done being your doll, love, but we can plant her out here, water her, and see that she gets plenty of sun, and one day, she’ll be a great big oak.”

“But Mr Norrell does not like me,” Jane blurted. “After the way I’ve behaved today…” She gestured helplessly at the steady, soaking rain that stopped abruptly three feet in every direction. Part of her was glad for the rain, for it hid her continued tears. “He does not mean to keep me. I know he does not, and so I will never see the tree grown.”

Childermass reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew one of his cards, careful to shield it from the rain. Two pairs of wands crossed at the center of the card. He glanced at the card for a moment, then smiled to himself. “This tells me you are to be with us a good, long time. Plenty of time to see Miss Derwen grow.”

He tucked the card away and then just waited, hand outstretched in offering, as if it was up to Jane to make the decision. Jane stared at him, kneeling there in the muddy grass as if he had all the time in the world, Jane realized it really was up to her. She had a choice, and suddenly, all she wanted in the world was to see her sad little doll grown into a great, towering oak. She nodded silently, unable to speak the words for fear of jinxing them.

Childermass asked if she’d like to keep the lace, imagining quite rightly that it was important. “I daresay Hannah could find a place for it on your new bonnet, or one of the dresses, and she’d have it looking good as new. She’s a wonder at such things.”

Jane hiccuped and shook her head. She took back the doll and ran her fingers over the sodden lace, the last piece of Helen she had. She kissed Derwen’s acorn face, then laid her gently in the bottom of the hole, careful to arrange the precious lace just so. “It is Derwen’t dress, and Derwen shall keep it.”

Childermass helped Jane fill the hole, and by the time they had finished and patted the little piece of sod back into place, the rain had stopped for good.

“Come along, Little Miss,” Childermass said, climbing back to his feet and helping Jane to do the same. “A cup of tea and a seat by the fire are calling your name.”

#Eyre/Strange Fusion #Jane Eyre #Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell #jsamn #kate writes #my writing

4 notes · View notes

cutietobio · 5 years ago

Note

scenarios w iwaizumi, lev and yaku with an s/o who usually dresses super conservative and comfort>style but wants to try stepping out of her comfort zone so on one of their dates she shows up more put together and wearing clothes that show a bit more skin? (like off the shoulder tops, shorts, skirts w/o leggings etc) n the boys get a little flustered or excited?? ;);) thank u! im trying to step out kf my comfort zone too so i felt like this would b cute nd make me more motivated not to give up!!

mmm yessss good stuff. this is the fluff I’m after. I hope you enjoy these, anon!! and I really really hope they motivate you because you’re beautiful and deserve to feel comfortable!! i love how these scenarios gradually increase in word amount as I go along I’m so sorry for the inconsistency oops.

IWAIZUMI

For your movie date with Iwaizumi, you were feeling a bit experimental with your choices in clothing. Instead of your usual conservative style, you wore a shorter skirt with your legs fully exposed, choosing not to wear leggings like you usually did. The rest of your outfit went along together nicely, but you felt a little self-conscious whilst overlooking yourself in the mirror. You have never taken such a risky clothing choice before, one gust of wind and your legs wouldn’t be the only thing on display. Luckily, the evening weather was quite calm.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest as you approached the movie theatre, eyes scanning the many bodies of people in search of your boyfriend. You spotted him leaning against the wall, casually watching the crowd walk by, your mouth dried at the sight of him. His style was one you always loved, a mixture between edgy and casual. He looked good, and you could only hope he thought the same about you.

“Hey, Hajime-kun!” you greet with a friendly smile, opting to stand a few feet away from him due to nerves. Your voice caught his attention immediately and he opened his mouth to ask why you were standing all the way over there until his eyes fell on your outfit and his words died off in his throat, his eyes widening at your exposed skin.

“Babe?” you question, your smile fading ever-so-slightly. You weren’t sure whether his speechlessness was meant to excite or worry you.

“You…You look nice,” Iwaizumi muttered out, coughing into his fist as he turned to look to the side, avoiding eye contact with you. The tips of his ears were tinged red and his cheeks were equally as flushed. Catching this, your smile widened.

“Thank you, but I think you look better.” He scoffed at your words and held an arm out for you, which you hooked your own arm around without a moment to spare.

“Whatever, believe that. Let’s get inside,” you nodded in reply, enjoying his blushing state. Both of you shuffled inside, buying your tickets and snacks before heading into the movie.

After your date, Iwaizumi took you home. Both of you stood outside your house, gazing at each other, neither wanting to leave.

“You looked great tonight. I think you should…dress like this more often,” Iwaizumi trailed off shyly, annoyed by how fast his heart was beating just by standing so close to you.

“Really? I was actually worried you wouldn’t like it. I’ve never dressed outside my comfort zone like this before but… you make me feel beautiful, so maybe I will,” you offer him a delicate smile, blushing hard at your admittance.

“I make you feel beautiful?” Iwaizumi questioned in a whisper, and you nodded in reply. He appeared to be taken aback by your words.

“Yes, you do.” There was a bit of lingering silence before Iwaizumi took a step closer to you, his hand grasping your own gently.

“I’ll make sure you always feel that way.”

LEV

Your boyfriend always took you out on fun dates that mainly consisted of you going outside, you thought it would be time to dress more appropriately for the occasion of the summer festival that he wanted to take you to. The afternoon sun would be hot, added with the running around he would likely make you do, you wanted to expose more skin to keep you cool. That and you also wanted to push yourself to dress outside of your comfort zone and experiment with new styles.

You wore a cropped t-shirt, with a denim overalls/denim shorts and a suiting pair of shoes. Having never worn something so exposing before, you were obviously a bit self-conscious and found yourself continuously tugging at the hem of your shirt to cover up your skin. Due to its short cut, the material merely snapped back in place. It was too late to bail and wear something else as you were already a few minutes late for your date, so you swallowed up your doubt and headed out.

Lev was standing at the festival’s colourful entrance, actively searching the heads of people in hopes of spotting you. You did text him saying you were running a bit late, but he had faith you would be there any second now. Once he saw you, you were given no time to prepare and anticipate his reaction to your outfit, as he immediately manoeuvered through the crowd and brought you close to him with a tight hug.

“Found you!” he laughed out joyously with closed eyes, which popped wide open as he felt the silky texture of your skin underneath his hands. Pulling back, he stared down at you in curiosity. You gulped, wishing the earth would swallow you up as he took in your appearance.

“Waah! You look so beautiful!” Lev cried out, bringing you into another hug which you slowly returned whilst processing his words. He…liked it? “You always look beautiful, but these clothes on you look great!” He pulled away again, examining you with gleaming eyes of adoration.

“Thanks, I was nervous that you might not like it…” you admit sheepishly.

“Me?! How could I dislike anything about you?!” he whined out about your assumption, “you worry too much, princess! Let’s go have some fun!” Before you could blink, Lev grabbed his much larger hand in your own, lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you safely through the crowd. Despite his exciting demeanour, he always handled you with such care and love it made your heart swell.

Throughout the day, Lev could barely shut up about how great you looked. He would constantly remind you how good you looked with your outfit and point out things he liked about it. You ended your day with one last ride on the Ferris wheel, and whilst furthest from the top, he turned to look at you.

“I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable!” his words touched your heart directly, and you hugged him, catching him off guard slightly but he returned the hug a second later.

“I should thank you for that, you’ve made me feel more open to trying new things. Like…getting on a Ferris wheel,” you giggle, breaking from the hug to peer down the edge of the cart. You paled at how high up you were, but Lev tugged you back before you could worry about the height more.

“I’ll always be here to support you, princess!” he said with his usual happy tone, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

YAKU

Your boyfriend had always enjoyed taking you on traditional and romantic dates, this time, he had really outdone himself, wanting to take you to a pretty fancy restaurant where even a dress code was required. You took this opportunity to exit your comfort zone when it came to your style choices and decided to go shopping for a dress. It hugged your figure perfectly, exposing your collarbone and also dipping to your lower back. You had never worn something like it before and scrutinized it intently in the mirror.

Despite the unease you felt wearing it, you forced yourself to ignore those feelings and finished dressing with a pair of heels/flats and minimal accessories since the dress itself was quite eye-catching. You were dropped off at the restaurant and entered in, hoping your nervousness didn’t display across your features.

A figure approached you from your peripheral vision and you turned to find Yaku looking handsome in a crisp black suit. Your heartbeat wildly against your chest, feeling much more nervous than before. He looked so good, you could practically be moved to tears. At that moment, you forgot all about the insecurity you felt wearing your uncharacteristic dress and smiled at him warmly.

“(Name), wow…” he stated breathlessly, taking in the sight of you. He felt his cheeks warming up instantly, convinced that he truly had the most breathtaking girlfriend in the world. Yaku wished he could tell you that, but he feared you might think him to be too cheesy. “You look stunning,” his eyes met yours and he held out an arm for you to take.

“Thank you, I’m glad it’s okay,” you mumble with a blush matching his own, latching onto his forearm as he redirected you to your table that was decorated with white and gold cutlery and trinkets.

“Okay?” he turned to give you an incredulous look, “It’s more than okay, you really made me lose my breath back there.”

“Stop,” you whine out softly, dipping your head to hide your worsening blush. Yaku merely chuckled, kissing your temple and pulling your chair out for you. You thanked him after having been scooted forward and the evening was spent indulging in delicious food and almost crying of laughter due to your wild conversations. He took your mind off of everything, and you honestly felt good in your dress.

Once the evening came to a close after desert, Yaku offered to drive you home rather than taking an Uber. Obviously, you agreed and enjoyed furthering your conversation in the warm confines of his car as you could admire him openly and tease him about keeping his eyes on the road if he turned to meet your gaze.

Upon reaching home, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, Yaku making no attempts to unlock the doors and you making no attempt to question why. You wanted to stay with him longer, so even if they were unlocked, you wouldn’t have left.

“Thank you for tonight, you really spoil me too much,” you speak softly, for it’s easy to hear each other over the dead silence.

“I don’t think I’m spoiling you, I’m treating you to what you deserve,” he argues warmheartedly, turning to give you a small smirk. It fell quickly, as his face morphed into that of seriousness.

“Oh no,” you express with a small laugh, “I know that look, you’re gonna-”

“You look really beautiful, (Name), I mean it. I can’t express how glad I am that you’re feeling more comfortable with yourself, and even around me. That really means the world to me,” Yaku declares with the utmost sincerity, grabbing both of your hands in your own.

Your eyes narrow affectionately, your mouth opening but closing shortly after as you have nothing to say. Pulling your hands from his, you reach over and tug him into a hug, your arms around his neck and your chin resting on his shoulder.

“Mori-kun, I swear I’m going to marry you one day,” you mumble, sighing out contently as he rubs small circles into the exposed skin of your lower back.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #lev #lev x reader #yaku #yaku x reader

221 notes · View notes

abusybuzzingbee · 5 years ago

Text

Pilot | Supernatural Season 1 Episode 1 Rewrite | Dean x Reader

A/N:::: Hello!! I am a royal dumbass and just accidentally deleted my whole tumblr. I was trying to get rid of my main account and accidentally got rid of it all!! So, this is bee from @abusybuzzingbee coming back at you with reuploads of my supernatural rewrites. So sorry to all of my supporters for my tomfoolery.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Major Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Warnings: Canon violence, language, Dean and the reader being assholes to each other, this is going to be the slowest burn that ever did burn, so buckle up!

Word Count: 7,643

Summary: The reader is a lonely young hunter on the road to Jericho, California where she bumps into two boys on the search for their father.

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Season 1 Masterlist

It was an early morning yesterday

I was up before the dawn.’

‘Funny how the sun’s just rising,’ you thought.

‘And I really have enjoyed my stay

But I must be moving on.’

The sound of the familiar tune of “Goodbye Stranger” coming from the radio of your new hijacked wheels-- a 2002 Toyota Camry, to be exact-- put a smile on your face.

‘Like a king without a castle

Like a queen without a throne

I’m an early morning lover

And I must be moving on.’

As you drove along a remote highway on the way to Jericho, California, you threw a glance to the wind lightly rustling the leaves of the trees outside of your driver’s side mirror.

‘Now I believe in what you say

Is the undisputed truth.’

Scenes such as this have always calmed you. The first beams of light stretching up from over the horizon, the vivid colors of the tree leaves, the hum of the radio of your newest car, and the sound of your tires gliding over the pavement.

‘But I have to have things my own way

To keep me in my youth.’

These road trips in between hunts were the only taste you had ever had of a normal life. Not that you wanted a normal life, you think you would be too bored in the suburbs. However, it is comforting to have a small break from monsters while driving from place to place to relax.

‘Like a ship without an anchor

Like a slave without a chain

Just a thought of those sweet ladies

Sends a shiver through my veins.’

The latest case you had picked up on was the disappearance of several men on Centennial Highway in Jericho.

‘And I will go on shining

Shining like brand new

I’ll never look behind me

My troubles will be few.’

The last disappearance had been some kid named Troy. Poor bastard.

You had very little knowledge of what you were walking into. You decided that you would head to the scene of the crime to try and get a better idea of what you were dealing with.

‘Goodbye stranger

It’s been nice

Hope you find your paradise

Tried to see your point of view

Hope your dreams will all come true.’

Just a few more hours and you’d be there.

‘Goodbye Mary, goodbye Jane--’

You turned the music up just a bit as you picked up your speed on the highway and thought about my last successful hunt in Alexandria, Louisiana.

‘Will we ever meet again?’

You were proud of how you did on that hunt, but it was freeing to leave towns you had previously hunted in in your rearview mirror.

‘Feel no sorrow, feel no shame--’

It wasn’t a matter of feeling guilty about what you had done while you were in that town; you had nothing to feel guilty about. It just always hurt you to think of the sad faces of the people who had already lost family members before you got there to do your job.

‘Come tomorrow, feel no pain--’

There would always be that little bit of trauma that you carried with you because of all you had seen on hunts, but c’est la vie.

‘Sweet devotion (Goodbye, Mary)

It’s not for me (Goodbye, Jane).’

You let your mind go blank and get completely absorbed in the music as you continued to drive along.

‘Just give me motion (Will we ever)

To set me free (Meet again?)’

Music was the one constant in your life that kept you grounded. It was so powerful. Music could express so many feelings and bring those same emotions out of its listeners.

‘In the land and the ocean (Feel no sorrow)

Far away (Feel no shame)--’

You loved oldies music. From ‘70′s hippie music to ‘80′s rock, all the way back to Edith Piaf in the 1940′s.

‘It’s the life I’ve chosen (Come tomorrow)

Every day (Feel no pain)’

You wished you had the time to sit down for long enough to learn to play an instrument. There was a whole list of things you wanted to learn to play including piano, guitar, ukelele, and drums.

‘Maybe one day,’ you thought.

‘So goodbye, Mary (Goodbye, Mary)

Goodbye, Jane (Goodbye, Jane)

Will we ever (Will we ever)

Meet again? (Meet again?)’

****

A few hours later, you were parked on Sylvania Bridge in Jericho. You had stopped a few miles back at a gas station to change into an outfit that looked a little more professional than a pair of baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt and opted for one of the many police uniforms you carried around with you. This one was a federal marshal suit. Included the khakis, shirt with a little police badge on the pocket, and a belt with your fake badge on it. It was your mom’s. She threw herself into the many roles she played on the job and made sure she had the costumes to fit the part. Once she passed, you just couldn’t let them go.

You hopped out of the car and walked over to the scene of the crime. You noticed two boys that looked about my age talking to one of the deputies on site. You watched them flash badges to the deputy, but neither was in uniform.

‘Oh, boy.’

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?” you heard the deputy remark as you walked up to them.

“Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you,” the shorter guy laughed.

'That’s my cue,’ you thought.

“Hiya, fellas,” you smiled brightly, glancing between the three of them.

The two guys turned back to look at you. The shorter one pointed at himself with a questioning look on his face directed at you. You eyed him, attempting to tell him to just go with it.

“Why aren’t you two in uniform?” you asked, standing next to the taller boy and glancing between the two of them. You looked at the deputy. “Sorry to have them bothering you. New hires,” you lied, rolling your eyes. “I’m supposed to oversee how they handle this case.”

“Mm-hmm...” the deputy said, squinting at you. He was clearly suspicious.

I extended my right hand to the deputy and reached for my badge with the other. “I’m Agent Nicks, nice to meet you.” I showed him my badge.

“Deputy Jaffe.” He shook my hand and nodded at my badge.

“Man, you guys can’t catch a break. You just had another killing like this, right?” I nodded my head at Troy’s car at the center of the crime scene as I spoke.

“Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that,” the deputy spoke as I walked over to the car, the two boys trailing behind me.

“So, this victim, you knew him?” The taller boy questioned.

The deputy nodded. “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

The shorter boy circled the car once and stopped between the taller boy and I. “Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?” he asked.

“No,” Jaffe answered, “Not so far as we can tell.”

“So what's the theory?” The taller guy asked.

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?”

“Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys,” the shorter guy quipped.

Your eyes widened as you watched the deputy’s incredulous expression. You didn’t like this kid already. You bit back a snicker when the dude who was with him stomped on his foot.

“Thank you for your time. Gentlemen,” the tall guy nodded.

You turned to follow your two “colleagues” away from the crime scene. The shorter guy smacked the taller one on the back of the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Why'd you have to step on my foot?”

“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?”

The two men realized you were following them and turned to look at you.

“Uh, can we help you?” the shorter one asked.

“No,” you replied. “I’ll be out of your hair in a second. I just think it’d be a little weird if I left the scene of the crime without regrouping with my ‘proteges’ first.”

The taller one nodded. It became clear to you he was the sensible one of the two.

“About that--” the shorter one came back, implying that you should explain yourself.

“Yeah, sorry for stepping all over your hunt.”

The two seemed in disbelief that you had figured out their secret.

“Takes one to know one,” You snickered. “I had to get the same information you two did, and it’d look really weird if two rounds of federal marshals came through for one case. I’m (Y/N), by the way.” You stuck out your hand for the two of them to shake.

The taller one took it first. “I’m Sam,” he smiled, “that’s my brother, Dean.”

You shook Dean’s hand after Sam’s.

“You shake hands?” Dean asked.

You shrugged with a tilt of your head to the side.

“Weird.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well,” you sighed, “I got this hunt under control if you boys wanna hit the road.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, lady,” Dean started, “We were here first.”

“Geez, sorry. I thought I was doing you guys a favor by letting you hit the road.”

“Sorry,” Sam spoke for his brother, “We’re looking for our dad. The only information we have on where he could be is here, so we’ve got this covered.”

You nodded. “I hope you find him soon. Good meeting you two.” You turned to leave.

“Wait,” Sam called after you. “Three heads are better than two. We could use your help.”

Dean was quick to cut in. “No, no we do not--”

“What?” you asked, smirking. “You don’t like me Dean-o?”

He opened his mouth to respond, obviously trying to think of something to say. He came up blank after a few seconds.

You chuckled. “I’m down to help.”

Sam smiled brightly at you. “Great!”

You glanced over Sam’s shoulder and your jaw clenched. Sam turned to follow your gaze.

The sheriff was talking to two FBI agents. He looked at you three pointedly. “Can I help you kids?”

“No, sir, we were just leaving,” Dean told him. He then nodded at the FBI agents as they walked past your trio. “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”

The three of you headed past the sheriff, whose gaze you could feel piercing through your back.

You noticed the 1967 Impala parked a little farther back than your car, wondering how you could have missed it when you pulled up to the scene.

“Aw, cool!” you exclaimed, quickly walking over to it. “Sweet ride.” You ran your hand over the hood.

“Hey,” Dean called, “Hands off my baby.”

“You dating a car, Grumpy?” you smirked.

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those your wheels over there?” Sam asked. He nodded towards your Camry.

“Unfortunately. Had to jack that car a few states back,” you responded.

Sam nodded. “You can catch a ride back with us if you want.”

Dean tossed a look at his brother.

“Cool, thanks,” you answered, smiling. “Let me just pull it off the road into some trees or something.”

***

"Who are we looking for again?” you asked the boys as you strolled around town. You had ditched your federal marshal getup and left it along with the rest of your stuff in the back of Dean’s car.

Dean scoffed at your question.

“Hey, you didn’t answer the first time I asked, so I had to do it again,” you threw back.

“Troy’s girlfriend,” Sam answered.

“Thank you, Sam.” You threw a pointed look at Dean. He just turned his face away from you.

A few paces down from your pack, a young girl with brown hair was putting missing posters up with Troy’s face on them.

"I'll bet you that's her,” Dean pointed out.

“Yeah,” Sam affirmed.

Your group walked up to her as Dean spoke, “You must be Amy.”

“Yeah,” she answered plainly.

“Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy.”

“And who’s that?” Amy glanced at you.

“I’m (Y/N). A friend of theirs.”

Amy nodded, looking back to Sam and Dean. “He never mentioned you to me.” She began to walk away with her posters.

Dean was quick to follow her. “Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.”

“So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around,” Sam continued for Dean.

A friend of Amy’s came up to her and asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

Once Amy responded with a simple, “Yeah,” her friend stayed with her.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?” I asked Amy.

***

You, Amy’s friend, Rachel, and Amy were packed into one side of a diner booth while Sam and Dean sat opposite you.

Amy spoke about what happened the night Troy went “missing.” “I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.”

“He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?” Sam asked.

Amy shook her head. “No. Nothing I can remember.”

You glanced at the pentagram pendant she was wearing. “I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff,” Amy laughed.

You smiled. “Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay,” Dean cut in. “Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.”

You rolled your eyes at him while he took his arm off of the back of Sam’s seat and leaned forward on his elbows. “Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything...” he trailed off, waiting for them to answer.

Amy and Rachel glanced between each other.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Well, it's just,” Rachel began, “I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

“About?” You questioned turning a bit more inward to Rachel.

“It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago,” Rachel stated.

You watched Rachel attentively, nodding.

“Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

You glanced at the boys with a quirked eyebrow.

***

Dean typed away on the library computer on the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. He had the words “Female Murder Hitchhiking" typed into the search bar. When he pressed enter, nothing came up. Dean replaced “Hitchhiking” with “Centennial Highway,” and once again, crickets.

“Wait a minute,” Sam started, “So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied as if it was obvious.

“Well, maybe it’s not murder,” Sam stated.

“Ohhh,” you started, “I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down.” You knew Sam was thinking suicide.

Sam smiled at you.

“Let me try,” Sam told Dean.

“I got it,” Dean came back.

Sam shoved Dean out of the chair and took over.

“Dude!” Dean hit Sam on the shoulder. “You're such a control freak.”

You laughed at their banter.

“Can it, (Y/N),” Dean told you.

“So, what I can’t laugh?”

“No, no, you can’t.”

“I literally just met you and I’ve had it up to here--” you flattened your hand and put it up by your eyebrow, “--with you already--”

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” Dean cut you off.

“You two wanna stop?” Sam asked. “Come look at this.”

Just as you thought, Sam had put “suicide” in place of “murder” in the search bar.

Sam snapped you out of your thoughts by saying, “This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you started, leaning over Sam’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen, “An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.”

Something about the situation did not sit right with you; it sounded familiar.

Sam continued reading. “‘ 'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch.’”

“The bridge look familiar to you?” Dean pointed out, looking at a picture of a man-- presumably Constance’s husband-- crying standing next to Sylvania Bridge.

“Well, we know where we’re headed,” you commented, walking toward the exit of the library. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you as you left.

***

By the time you finally got to Sylvania Bridge, it was late at night. You and the boys had stopped for a bite to eat before going back to the bridge. Troy’s car had long since been removed, the crime scene completely cleared out.

Dean looked out over the edge of the bridge, standing next to you and Sam. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.”

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam looked over at his brother.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him.” Dean continued down the bridge, the taller boy trailing behind him.

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.”

Sam stopped. “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

The brunet stopped, turning around. “Monday. Right. The interview.” Aggravation was clear in his tone.

“Yeah.”

You thought it best to take a step back while they had this discussion.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?” Dean’s tone got a bit more of an edge to it.

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam pushed back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

Sam stepped closer to Dean. “No, and she's not ever going to know.”

The older boy did not back down. “Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” He turned around and kept walking.

Sam followed him, his arms out in question. “And who's that?”

“You're one of us.” Dean gestured to himself and back to you staying several paces back,

Sam hurried to get in front of his brother. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“You have a responsibility to—”

“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

When Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge, you jumped into action.

“Hey, knock it off, Dean.”

“(Y/N)--” Dean warned, giving you a sideways glare. He looked back at Sam. “Don't talk about her like that.” He let Sam go and walked away from him.

You hurried over to Sam. “You okay?” You put your hand on his shoulder and met his hazel eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Guys,” Dean called.

You looked to Dean who stared down to the railing at the edge of the bridge.

“Constance,” you let out, coming to stand next to Dean.

Constance looked back at your group before stepping off of the railing.

The three of you ran to the railing.

“Where'd she go?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, wanna jump down there and find out?” you sassed.

Dean glared at you as the sound of the Impala’s engine roared behind you.

The older Winchester flipped around. “What the—”

Sam wheeled around, too. “Who's driving your car?”

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them, his green eyes never leaving the Impala.

The car jerked into motion, barrelling over the bridge straight toward you and the Winchesters.

“Go! Go!” you yelled, turning and sprinting away.

Dean and Sam sped ahead of you, and you noticed the car gaining on you. Your heart raced and your breathing was labored. The car was way too close for comfort and left you with just one option.

You threw yourself over the railing, just barely managing to hang onto the edge of the bridge.

You heard the car engine stop just as something-- or someone-- hit the water.

You pulled yourself back over the railing and noticed Sam sitting on the railing calling for Dean.

You rushed over to Sam, leaning over the railing to try to find Dean.

He popped up a second later, his usually spikey hair flattened to his head with mud. In fact, his whole body was covered in mud.

“You okay?” You called down to him.

Dean sarcastically held up a thumb and pursed his lips.

“Hey, I’m just checking on you, don’t be an ass,” you yelled back, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, annoyed.

Sam laughed and got back onto the bridge.

You headed over to the Impala and checked it over, grabbing a towel out of your bag.

Dean had managed to climb back onto the bridge and made his way over to his baby. He opened the car’s hood and poked around to see if Constance had damaged it at all. After a moment, he shut the hood and leaned on it.

“Your car all right?” you heard Sam ask are you walked over to Dean with the towel.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” He yelled at the spirit.

You put the towel on Dean’s head and started to dry his hair off when he jerked away from you.

“What are you doing?”

You were quick to put the towel back on his head. “Helping.”

The dirty blond ripped the towel out of your hands. “I got it.”

“Fine.” You raised your hands up in surrender. You leaned against the car next to Dean. “You know, I been thinkin’.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Shut up, Dean. I’m serious.” You paused, taking in a breath. “Constance is a woman in white.”

Sam pursed his lips, shrugging. “Makes sense. I mean, the dead kids, suicide, killing unfaithful men.”

“Maybe.” The older Winchester’s monotone voice was followed by silence. A silence that was broken a few moments later by Sam.

“You smell like a toilet.”

You scrunched up your nose and giggled.

“Can it, (Y/N).”

***

“You guys having a reunion or something?” the clerk asked, looking at the credit card Dean had placed on the motel’s front desk.

Sam cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.”

Dean looked over to his brother briefly and then turns his head back to the clerk. “What room’s he in?”

“Listen, kid, I can’t go around giving out people’s room numbers.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

You stepped out from behind the two boys. “Oh, please sir? He’s family, and we haven’t seen him in a while.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.”

***

“That how you get all the guys?”

“What?” you asked, not bothering to face Dean to answer his question. The two of you were stationed outside of John Winchester's room playing lookout while Sam picked the lock on the door.

“You know what I mean. I saw you makin’ eyes at the clerk.”

“Yeah, to get a room number.” You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. It worked real well.” He turned to face you.

“You know, you don’t have to be such a dick all the time. I met you yesterday and have given you no reason not to like me. What’s your deal?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, my plate is kind of full. I’m trying to figure out what the hell happened to my dad. I have no idea whether he’s alive, dead, or captured, and he’s the only parent I have left. And my little brother is solely concerned about getting back to fucking Stanford, and I’m not even sure he cares about what happened to our dad. And now, enter (Y/N) trying to take over a hunt that is the only tie I have to my dad.” Dean’s face was incredibly close to yours.

Sam had long since gone into the room and decided to leave the two of you alone to hash out your frustrations.

You held your ground, but your voice took on less of an angry tone. You were strictly playing defense at this point. “But I wasn’t trying to take it over to be mean, and as soon as you got so defensive about the hunt, I backed down and just offered to help--”

“Yeah, and I didn't want your help. Sam was the one who let you in, probably hoping that if you were here he could shag ass back to Stanford. So forgive me if I’m a little on edge.” He pulled his face away from yours, wheeling around to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Well, I’m sorry for being such an inconvenience. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the fact that I’ve helped you guys more than I’ve hurt you. I pulled your asses out of a crack when you were talking to the police. I was the one who figured out what kind of a spook we’re dealing with here. I want you to find your dad. I really do. But I also want you to stop being so awful to me. And it’s just me specifically!” You threw your arms up in the air. At some point during the first part of your rant, Dean had looked back at you over his shoulder. “You’re so nice to Sam--I mean, about as nice as brothers are to each other-- and I can tell you care about him. I can tell you have a good heart. So why choose to be an ass?”

When Dean didn’t answer, you shook your head. “Whatever. I’m leaving.” You clutched your duffel bag strap on your shoulder tightly, your knuckles turning white.

“To go where?”

“Away. You win. Ya got what you wanted.”

“Wait, (Y/N)--”

“Tell Sam I said ‘bye.’”

***

The heat of midday had your baby hairs stuck to your head with sweat. You had been walking for a while now, just trying to find somewhere remote enough that you could steal a car without getting seen.

You hiked along a highway surrounded by dense trees, the rustling sound of the green leaves filling your head. You took a deep breath, allowing peace to wash over you. You never had to see Dean Winchester again, although you would miss Sam. He was the closest thing to a friend you’ve had in a while.

A familiar engine roar overpowered the sound of the rustling you had been hearing. The car pulled off of the highway just behind you, coming to a stop.

You took your bottom lip in your mouth under your top one, closing your eyes and stopping your walk.

You heard the opening and closing of the car’s door as you turned around, a small smile on your lips.

“You know,” Sam started, walking toward you, “It’s kind of rude to leave without saying ‘goodbye.’“

You let out a laugh. “Hey, Sam.”

He pulled you into a quick hug. “Hey. I heard what happened.”

You looked down at the mixture of grass and gravel below your combat boots. “Yeah.”

“And I know you probably never wanna see Dean’s face again, but we need your help. I do, and he does, whether he wants to admit it or not. We can all get out of here a lot quicker if we work together. You can get away from Dean, I can get back to Stanford, and Dean can find our dad.”

“Where is Dean?”

“Arrested.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, nodding. “Okay.” You put on a smile. “What now?”

***

Much later in the day, after going to visit Joseph Welch, you and Sam were sitting in a diner grabbing a bite to eat. The both of you were brainstorming what to do to get Dean out of jail and what to do about that Constance bitch. The conversation had shifted from those two topics once you had a solid plan to simply small talk between friends.

“So what’s your story?” you asked, taking a bite out of one of your fries.

“What?”

“I picked up from conversations between you and Dean over the past two days and the very loud conversation I had with your brother earlier that you left hunting to go to Stanford. What happened there?”

Sam chuckled, looking down.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. I crossed a line,” you told him sincerely. You stared at your ketchup.

“No, no,” he responded. He took in a sharp breath. “My dad and I had a big blowout fight before I left for college. He told me if I left for college to never come back. Haven’t talked to him in two years.” He took a bite of his salad after he finished talking.

“Oh,” you said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You decided to change the subject. “Alright, we’ve let Dean rot long enough. I’m gonna go call the police.”

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll get the check.”

You walked outside of the diner, heading to the payphone you spotted at the entrance of the parking lot. You picked it up and dialed ‘9-1-1.’

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

You made your voice frantic, forcing tears to well up in your eyes. “My-My husband! He’s been shot!”

“Ma’am, calm down for me, okay? Where are you?”

You screamed. “He- He just shot another guy! Oh, my god!”

“Ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m on Whiteford Road,” you said. “Please, please, please hurry!”

“Okay, okay, um, w-we’re sending a unit out to you now. Can you stay on the line for me?”

“No, no! Please!” you cried. “Plea--” You cut yourself off and hung up the phone.

You noticed Sam standing next to you using one of his forearms to hold the door open as he leaned on the door frame.

“What?”

“That was damn good acting,” he noted.

“Thanks,” you chuckled. “I actually wanted to be an actress growing up.”

“Hunting got in the way,” Sam figured.

“Exactly. But, acting is kind of part of the job. Gotta be real good at lying and pretending to be feds,” you shrugged, making light of the situation.

A comfortable silence blanketed you and Sam as you lamented over what life could’ve been for you. You sucked in a breath and said, “We better get going. To Constance!”

***

Sam’s phone ringing pulled the two of you out of a conversation about his girlfriend, Jess, and his life at Stanford.

Sam looked at the caller ID, shrugging at you when he didn’t recognize it.

“Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal,” you could hear Dean jest through the phone.

The brunet grinned. “It was (Y/N), actually.”

He paused. “(Y/N)? She’s with you?”

You took Sam’s phone out of his hands and said, “Yup. Hi, Dean,” into the receiver. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You gave the phone back to Sam.

The older Winchester changed the topic from you to something else. “Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam jumped in. “So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop--”

His brother tried to cut him off. “Sammy, would you shut up for a second?”

“--I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.”

Sam threw a look to you before glancing back to the road. “What? How do you know?”

“I've got his journal,” you heard the dirty blond explain.

“He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.”

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.”

‘Ex-Marine crap?’ you thought to yourself.

Sam noticed your puzzled expression and directed toward you, “Coordinates.” He spoke his following words to Dean. “Where to?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

You propped your head up on your elbow on the passenger’s side door, legs tossed in an ‘L’ shape on the seat beside you. You stared out of the window into the dark night, taking in the gloomy appearance of the dead trees and fallen leaves.

The younger Winchester shook his head. “I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job?”

A figure in the road caught your eye, causing you to squint and look out the windshield.

Sam was still rambling to his brother. “Dean, what the hell is going on?”

You registered that Constance was in the road. “Sam, look out!” you shrieked.

Sam looked up, dropping the phone and slamming the brakes hard. You had to brace yourself on the dashboard in front of you, your body jerking forward and backward in your seat.

Constance was gone, and you and Sam tried to catch your breaths.

“Sam? Sam!” Dean’s voice came through the phone.

You picked up the phone from under the glove box. Dean had hung up before you got the chance to tell him Sam was alright.

You turned to the brunet, who swallowed hard and looked into the backseat through the rearview mirror.

You whirled around to look in the backseat, and there Constance was. “Take me home,” she ordered. She looked directly at you. “Take me home!”

“No,” you stated firmly, holding her gaze.

Constance glared back at you as you heard the doors of the car lock. You wheel around in your seat and try to reopen them. Suddenly, your body was thrust back into the seat as the car began to drive.

“Sam?” you yelled over the roar of the engine.

“That’s not me!” He tried to grab the steering wheel to drive, but Constance wouldn’t let him.

You continued to struggle with the doors until the two-- well, three, counting Constance-- of you pulled up to an abandoned house, presumably the Welches’ old house. The windows on both of the two floors had been covered with boards, the paint was peeling off of the wood slats, and the screen door had been ripped. The house looked like it was falling apart more and more with every passing day. It had the stereotypical appearance of a horror movie house.

The engine of the Impala shut off.

“Don't do this,” the younger Winchester pleaded.

Constance flickered in the backseat. “I can never go home,” she moaned, her voice sad.

As if a switch had been flipped in your brain, your face shifted from scared to enlightened. “You're scared to go home.” You turned to look in the back seat, but Constance was gone. As soon as you turned back around, you noticed Constance in between you and Sam on the leather bench seat.

You jumped, back pressed against the passenger’s side door. Constance climbed on Sam’s lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to tilt it backward.

You tried to lunge for Constance, but she shoved you against the Impala’s door hard enough with a flick of her wrist to send the door flying open and you sailing through the air.

“(Y/N)!” You heard Sam yell.

You skidded to a halt on the rocky gravel surrounding the house, feeling your arms and legs get cut up. The wind was knocked out of you, and your head bounced against the small rocks.

“Ow,” you groaned, trying to get up. You saw Constance had closed the passenger’s side door once more, and through the window could see her kissing Sam as he reached for the keys.

Another thing you saw was a figure appearing on the other side of the car through the driver’s side window. You hoped to god it was Dean.

You heard whoever it was fire a shot as Sam screamed in what seemed to be pain, so you immediately ducked. A few more shots were fired and you felt safe enough to raise your head.

You scrambled to your feet when you saw the Impala go careening through the porch and into the old Welch house. You ran into the house, being as careful as you could to avoid any of the broken pieces of wood and furniture the car had left in its path.

Dean was quick to follow you, calling out to his younger brother. “You okay?”

Sam groaned. “I think...”

“Can you move?” you asked, leaning through the passenger’s window. You looked him over for serious injury.

“Yeah,” he told you. He reached a hand out to his brother. “Help me?”

You stepped to the side as Dean pulled Sam out through the rolled-down window.

You noticed Constance picking up a picture frame of her and her children that had fallen to the ground.

She turned her attention from the picture to you and met your eyes.

She pinned you and the boys against the Impala with a bureau. It hit the boys in their pelvis but nailed you right in the stomach. You groaned in pain, desperately trying to push it off of you.

You stopped your struggle when a sound caught your ear. It sounded like liquid trickling and watched as a stream of water just thick enough to cover each step cascaded to the ground. You followed the stream to the top of the stairs to see the dark silhouettes of a little girl and a little boy holding hands.

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” they spoke in chorus.

Constance looked distraught as she got closer to the stairs. They were suddenly gone from the stairs and appeared behind her, hugging her and looking up at her with warm yet slightly disturbing smiles.

Constance screamed, and she and her children melted to the floor flickering between apparitions of skinless and skeletal forms of humans. They melted into a puddle of an electric purple goo that seeped through the floorboards as the ringing in your ears from Constance’s shrieks subsided.

You and the Winchesters shoved the bureau over, and you dusted off your hands as Dean spoke.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.”

“That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them,” Sam told you and his brother.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped him on the chest where holes had been burned through his shirt that you were assumed were the products of Constance. Sam groaned out in pain but laughed nonetheless.

“Actually, it was all (Y/N). I’m just the jackass who drove your car through the side of a house,” Sam smiled, jutting his thumb back at you.

Dean hummed as he continued to walk away, clearly disinterested but making an effort to sound impressed. He leaned on the open window of the passenger’s side door, looking over his baby. “Speaking of that, if you screwed up my car--” he paused, looking back at Sam, “--I’ll kill you.”

“Aw, shame,” you cut in, “Sam’s my favorite Winchester.”

Dean glared at you. “Can it, (Y/N).”

***

You lip-synced the words to AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” which boomed through the speakers of the Impala. You were sat in the backseat, leaning on the front seat between the two Winchesters with your forearms atop their bench seat. You looked over Sam’s shoulder as he opened up a giant map and opened his dad’s journal. He went to tuck a flashlight under his chin so he could actually see what he was doing, but you stopped him.

“I can hold that for you.”

“Thanks,” was his short reply as he handed off the flashlight to you, his eyes never leaving the things on his lap. You clicked the flashlight on and held it over his shoulder as he scanned the map for the coordinates “35-111″ as was written in his dad’s journal.

Sam tapped the spot on the map once he found it. “Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

“Charming,” you quipped.

“How far?” came Dean’s question.

“About six hundred miles,” the younger Winchester told his brother.

“Hey, if we shag ass after we drop (Y/N) off in the next town over we could make it by morning,” Dean suggested, looking over at Sam.

‘This guy is so ready to get rid of me,’ you thought, shaking your head.

Sam cocked his head to the side and looked to his brother. “Dean--”

Dean stared back to the road, his pitch dropping lower and his disappointment apparent. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam reminded him.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

You clicked the flashlight off, sinking back into the backseat.

‘Awkward.’

***

Dean’s face was still set in a frown as the Impala pulled up to Sam’s apartment complex. You jumped out of the car as Sam did, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you told him, squeezing him harder with your eyes shut. You were genuinely disappointed. Sam was so nice and the two of you had become great friends very quickly.

“Hey, you have my number. Call me.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” You pulled away from him. “Say ‘hi’ to Jess for me.”

The brunet chuckled. “I will.” He leaned down into the open window of Dean’s car. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Sam clearly did not know how to end the conversation from there, so he simply patted the inside of the car door twice and turned away. Dean leaned toward the passenger door, calling out to Sam in one last attempt to get him to come with him. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, which was clearly not the reaction Dean was expecting. He just sighed and waited for you to get back in the car. You had barely shut the door before Dean shoved off.

You jerked around in your seat. “Easy, tiger. Jesus.” You slumped down in your seat after getting no response from Dean. You crossed your arms and looked out of your window.

The familiar smells of coconut and tobacco filled your nose, and you immediately straightened up.

“Turn around,” you told Dean, your eyes wide.

“What? No,” he snorted. “Why?”

“Just do it!”

Your exclamation caught Dean off guard. “Jesus, fine.”

He put the car in reverse and headed back up the street.

Dean hadn’t even stopped in front of Sam’s apartment complex before you threw the car door open and sprinted toward the apartment as fast as you could.

“Whoa, crazy lady, where are you going?” Dean caught up to you and grabbed your arm, spinning you around.

“Sam’s apartment. Which one is it?!” You asked in a panic.

“Uh--” He glanced away from you, still puzzled as to why you were a basketcase at the present moment.

“Dean!”

He looked back at you, shaking his head, but he ran up the stairs and led you to Sam and Jess’s shared apartment.

He stopped in front of the door, turning back to face you. “Now, why--”

Before he could finish his statement, you used all your might to kick the wooden door in, yelling Sam’s name in concern.

“No!” you heard him yell from another room.

Dean jumped into action, sprinting through the apartment with you hot on his heels. The two of you got to the younger Winchester’s bedroom just in time to see a woman in a white nightgown stained red at her belly from bleeding with blonde hair on the ceiling burst into flames.

“Jess!” Sam yelled, paralyzed on his bed in shock. He quickly moved one arm to shield his face as the flames got closer to him. “No!”

‘Oh, shit. His girlfriend...’

You shook your thoughts away from you and helped Dean lug a screaming Sam out of the door and out of the apartment complex. You fished through your bag in Dean’s car for your phone and called the fire department as Dean tried to hold Sam back from going back in for his charred girlfriend.

***

Flashes of red and blue broke through the black of night, emanating from police cars and firetrucks all around you. You walked through the chaotic scene of police and firemen holding back onlookers and firemen dousing the remaining embers of the fire in water. Black, charred wood stuck out from the turquoise exterior of the complex, and you could see into the apartment through giant holes that had been burnt out of the wall.

You walked back over to the boys who stood by the Impala. Sam was fooling with weapons concealed within the hollowed-out bottom of the trunk, and Dean stood next to him, watching his brother’s face. As you got to them, you put a hand on Sam’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He looked up at you, his normally soft and cheery expression suppressed by a look of both desperation and anger. He shut the trunk with a hard slam.

“We got work to do.”

Tags are open and feedback is always appreciated!

Series Rewrite Tags:

@rach5ive @ppeachygemss

44 notes · View notes

adrenaline-roulette · 5 years ago

Text

Four Eighths

Pairing: Four x Eight (Reader) Word Count: 4K+ Warnings: Lots of course language, Violence, Angst, One is kind of a dick, so is Four though....

*Disclaimer, this chapter is kind of intense, but like not, at the same time if that makes sense? Chapter Four will bring back some humour, and things will change between Four and Eight, so keep an eye out for the next instalment!

Missed Chapter One and Two, you should probably check those out first!

Chapter Three: You're not the big fish in the pond no more

Despite the rigorous training regime, you’d experienced these past few weeks, that was either designed to make you get up and leave, or potentially kill you on the spot, you had stayed with the Ghosts. You were taught how to handle different weapons, a makeshift firing range being set up for you to practise at. You would be the first to admit that your aim was not always perfect, but you were getting better, there was no doubt about it. Basic fighting techniques were passed from the other Ghosts down to you, though as Two had warned you, it was one thing to fight a punching bag, and an entirely other to fight an armed person.

*****

Three had woken early as usual, getting himself dressed in his athletic wear and lacing up his trainers tightly. Jogging on the spot, he waited patiently for Two just out the front of her trailer, knowing she would be joining him shortly. Despite it being a well-known fact among the small group, that the two were, as Four had said ‘involved’ with each other, that hadn’t changed his and Two’s sleeping arrangements… Well, at least not permanently. Mostly it was just to keep One happy, so they kept their separate trailers, though there was scarcely a night where one would sleep without the other. Each morning, they would return to their respective homes, and begin the day as if nothing had happened. This morning was no different, Two had been in Three’s trailer up until twenty minutes ago, she had kissed him good morning, then raced to her trailer to get ready. Thee found it idiotic that they had to hide their relationship, though they all knew One’s stance on the subject. He didn’t want anyone getting too close, forming friendships could only lead to heartache and tragedy.

“Only a quick run this morning, Eight will be here early for her combat training.” Two smiles as she leaps from the stairs of her trailer, landing carefully on both feet, before breaking off into a sprint.

Three leaps into action, taking off after the speedy blonde. “How is that any different to usual?” He calls, trailing a small amount behind her as they cover ground.

Two slows her sprint to jog, turning so she was now facing Three, and jogging backwards. She knew the path well, knew where to turn, and when to be mindful of any dips in the terrain. “We will be giving the punching bag a rest for the day. She will instead learn how to fight against someone who can counter and attack her back.”

Nodding his head once he had caught up to Three, he mulls over her words. “Do you think that you’re the best fit to challenge her? You want it to be difficult, don’t you?”

Two pauses, a hard glare forming over her eyes and brow. “Of course I want the challenge to be difficult! Which is why I am the perfect sparring partner for Eight, I have years of hand to hand combat under my belt.”

“I’m not questioning your skills, but you two are well matched in height, that’s not always the case though is it. When was the last time you got into a punch up with someone your height or shorter?”

“Well then, who did you have in mind if not me?”

Three waves his hand down his chest, a broad grin spreading over his mouth. “Me of course! I’m taller, and bigger than Eight, it’ll be good to see how she goes against someone double her size!”

Two rolls her eyes, turning on the spot, and picking up her pace once more, before turning to call over her shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into!”

*****

Which is why it came as no surprise to find Three waiting for you the morning of your next training session, Two stood to the side of the training grounds that had been set up. A circle had been drawn in the dirt, with a line trailing straight down the centre. You stretch your arms behind you, feeling your shoulder blades pop, before the tension you had held there alleviates. Three was stretching in a similar manner to you, sweat beading on his brow for his morning jog with Two. “Good morning Eight. I hate to throw you into the deep end this early, but we need to get you up to speed with combat. Three has offered to be your sparring partner.” Two offers a gentle head nod, the closest she had gotten to smiling at you since the day you arrived.

A flicker of mirth flashes through Three’s eyes, as he lifts his head to look at Two, their eyes locking for a moment in silent communication. As you stretch, you take the chance to look around, despite how early in the morning it was, everyone seemed to be milling around, waiting for the show to start. Seven had set up a green and yellow woven lawn chair out the front of his trailer, a beach umbrella opened above him to shield from the harsh sunrays, as a steaming cup of coffee rests by his feet. Five seemed to have dragged her own chair over to join him, an old plastic thing, which at one sage had been white. Though after months of being exposed to the elements, it had faded to a pale brownish yellow colour, with pieces flaking off. She too had hot cup of coffee and was sipping it patiently, and set by her feet was a small medical kit, a green circle with white plus slapped on the front of the box. It was just there as a precaution, you told yourself, turning away from the kit. Five likely took it wherever she went, just in case…

Directly across from Two was One, he was leaning back against a shipping container which was close enough to see the fight, but not close enough to be hit in the crossfire. His arms were folded over his plaid shirt, while one foot was kicked over the other, he looked the picture of relaxed. As you fished out your Bluetooth earbuds, you took a moment to notice the one person who hadn’t shown up. Four was no where to be found, not that this surprised you. He seemed to have been avoiding you at all costs, he had outright refused to show you any fighting techniques when One had requested he do so, and you had a hunch as to why. One had made it no secret as to what your skills would be within the team. While Five, Two, Seven and Three had welcomed you with open arms, finding what you could do with just a few mouse clicks to be phenomenal, Four had simply shrugged, mumbling under his breath that, “It didn’t look that hard.” When you had brought up a window on the screen you were working at, typing in a few codes, before the entire base was plunged into darkness, all except your computer. After that little demonstration, he had stalked off and promptly steered clear of you for the following weeks.

With your earbuds clutched in your fist, you made your way over to Two and Three, both of whom were waiting for you. “First rule, this is mostly directed at Three, though Eight please keep it in mind. There are to be no weapons of any kind used during your sparring. You will both start on opposite sides of the circle, the aim is to get the other onto your side and have them removed from the circle. If that does not happen, then the only other way for the session to be over, will be for one of you to tap out.” Two explains, her eyes focused on you, though occasionally she gazes to Three, ensuring that he too was listening.

You both nod your heads in understanding, before you slip an earbud in, pressing the tiny button to connect them to your phone. “Oi Eight! What are you doing?” One calls across to you raising an eyebrow at your frozen posture.

You stood with one hand halfway to your ear, the second earbud pressed between your fingertips. “I work better with music!” You shout back.

A low chuckle rumbled from Three behind you, though you paid him no mind as he whispered to Two. “Sound like anyone else we know?” He smirked, noting the absence of their fellow avid music listener, who could often be found with his own music blaring in his ears.

“You won’t always have time to put earbuds in Eight, you’ll have to learn to fight without music!” One replies, causing you to frown. Why should you learn to do that? There was absolutely no reason as to why you would be on a mission without your music and earbuds.

“One, you know I work well with music. You saw how quickly I got those cameras down at the museum with my music playing. It’s basically the exact opposite of a distraction to me!”

You watch as One opens his mouth, ready to shout his response, before being cut off by and angry French woman. “Suffisant!” Two bellowed, both you and One turning to look at her sheepishly. “If Eight wishes to use her music while fighting, then that is her choice.” Two doesn’t wait for a response from One, nodding at you to finish setting up. You take your place on one side of the line in the circle, as Three does the same on the opposite side. With one hand raised to your left earbud, the other balled in a fist and raised to just bellow your eyeline , your feet are planted firmly on the ground, legs parted and knees bent, so to absorb as much shock as possible in the event of you being struck. “Commencer!”

Your index finger presses against the button, before your hand flies down to join your other in a defensive block, Your eyes locked on Three’s in a never ending staring contest. The music kicks in, Ain’t it fun by Paramore floating through the earbuds, and filling you with a newfound sense of confidence.

You strike first, a right-handed forward punch aimed at Three’s throat, the punch itself was clean and smooth, and if it had hit its target, would have left Three feeling rather sorry for himself. Your punch never landed however, being blocked by Three’s fast-moving forearm, which knocked your fist off target. He followed through with a right hook, which connected with your shoulder painfully. You twisted your body to follow through with his punch, to absorb as much of the shock as possible.

As you swing around with his punch, you lift both your arms up, locking your fists together, throwing them down hard and fast so your elbow juts into his side. Your aim was off, you had hoped to hit his chest, though with the force your elbows had hit him, they seemed to have caused a decent amount of damage. Using the pause in Three’s movements to your advantage, you bring your locked fists up once again, turning to the opposite side before swinging around once more, this time you elbow connects with his upper torso, slamming into one of his ribs without mercy. Had it not been for your music, then you would have heard the faint crack of the impacted rib, though while you missed the sound, Three sure as hell didn’t.

He stumbles away for a moment, pressing his palm against where you had struck him, his eyes growing dark at the pain that was radiating from the impact point. You had no way of stopping what happened next, it didn’t matter how desperately your braced your knees, fists once again guarding your face, there was no way you could do anything but shriek as Three rugby tackled you, his broad shoulder crashing into your gut with so much force, you thought you would to die. He pushed you backwards, as your feet scrambled to gain purchase on the ground to try and stop your movements. ‘Ain’t it fun, living in the real world?’ Hailey Williams’ voice breezed through your ears, as the wind was knocked from your lungs, the irony of the situation certainly not lost on you.

As Three pushed you backwards, you fought to decide what your next move would be, you had to hurry though, there was only so much of this searing pain you could endure, before you opted for the cowards way out, and tapped out of the match. Before you had the chance to formulate a plan, Three had shunted into you with his shoulder again, this time using his entire body weight. You had no where to go but down, the white hot pain of where Three had rammed you was beginning to take over your entire body, your vision was fuzzy, and your limbs tingled. You flung your arms out to your sides just as your back slammed to the ground, your palms slapping against dirt to alleviate some of the impact.

*****

One watched with keen eyes as the fight took an interesting turn of events, you had had the upper hand for the most part, though clearly you had struck a nerve with Three, or a rib. As Three barrelled into you, he fought back the desire to call the fight off. It was hardly a fair pairing, Three was massive, and was made of pure muscle! You hardly stood a chance against the man. Just as he was about to call for a time out, a low chuckle came from above him. Pushing away from his lean against the shipping container, he looked to his left, up at the trailer beside him. “Jesus fuck! How long have you been there?”

Four smirked lopsidedly down at One, his blue eyes meeting the surprised ones of their leader. “Well, I saw when you picked your nose. So sometime before then I guess...”

One planted his hands firmly on his hips, raising both brows up at the blonde Brit. If he weren’t so fucking good at skywalking, then he would’ve happily left him in a foreign country somewhere, for him to find his way out, and hopefully to not return to the team. “What’s so funny then huh?”

“Eight, she’s getting absolutely smashed out there. I told you we didn’t need a fucking hacker, we need someone who can bloody fight.”

*****

As your vision cleared, you found Three looming over you, not with the intention of helping you up though, no, you were outside the circle that’s for sure, but you were still on your side. He was ready to carry you over the line to claim his victory. You couldn’t let him win, you had to prove yourself to the team, prove that you belonged here just as much as them. With a new found strength, you sweep your legs to the left, smashing into Three’s right calf. He had been stood over your collapsed body, though he hadn’t made it further than your knees, which was perfect for you. Groaning, Three landed heavily on his knee, as you rolled away from him, crawling onto your hands and knees, before making it back to your feet. He was on your side of the circle, and better still, he was outside of the circle. All you had to do was hit him while he was down.

When the Ghosts had asked if you had any previous combat training, you had said no, which was the truth, really. The type of fighting skills they were looking for were those of a boxer, wrestler, or soldier, which you were none of. You had however, spent two years learning karate when you were a young teenager, it had been your mother who insisted you learn some form of self-defence, she wanted you to be able to protect yourself if you were ever in danger. You hadn’t practised in years, so you thought it better to not mention anything, lest you give them hope in your abilities. Now though, you had no other choice. From what you could recall, none of the moves the Ghosts had shown you during your training sessions would be of any use to you now.

You pivot on the spot to face Three, who was slowly raising from the ground, his knee obviously bruised from his heavy landing. With your feet planted firmly, and your hands once again raised to block, you meet his gaze. “Sorry Three.” You smirk. With a practised speed and precision, you lift your right leg from behind you, bending your left knee to keep you balanced. Your leg swings around the side, your knee remaining bent slightly, so you could retract quickly if necessary. This would not be the case however, as once your right leg finishes it’s arch, your lower shin connects with Three’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground with a grunt.

“Eight est victorieux!” Two shouts, as both she and Five race towards you and Three, ready to congratulate and bandage you both.

*****

“Now that? That you can laugh at!” One grins, a look of wonder etched on his face, where you’d learnt a perfect roundhouse kick like that, he had no clue. But fuck, you executed it perfectly! “Still think Eight can’t handle herself in a fight then kid?” One grins, turning to the trailer where Four had been stood atop only minutes ago. The roof was empty now though, with no signs of the man having ever been there.

A low whistle comes from above, and One tilts his head back to find Four crouched on the roof of the shipping container he was leaning against. He was crouched down low, one forearm resting against his knee, while his other hand sat between his feet, gripping the edge of the shipping container to prevent him from falling. “Alright, so I didn’t see that coming. Don’t think anyone did…. Where’d she learn a move like that?”

One paid no mind to Four’s words, blinking rapidly up at his teammate. “When the hell did you get there? I didn’t hear you move!” Four tilts his head to look down at One, closing his eyes tightly, unable to bring himself to answer. “And what the fuck is with the way you’re sitting? What are you? A cat?”

With a deadpan expression, Four opens his eyes, locking them with One’s, both men ignoring the five people all gathered just a small ways ahead of them, congratulating Eight on her victory, and helping to patch up Three. “Meow.”

*****

“You little shit! You didn’t tell us you could fight like that!” Two grins, as she and Five help you over to your trailer. A stitch had formed in your stomach, and you still found it difficult to breathe from where Three had rammed you, but a grin remained plastered to your lips. You’d done it, you had beat Three!

You collapse against your bed, groaning deeply as you sink into the mattress, if you had it your way, you would stay there for the rest of your life. “I haven’t practised in forever. I didn’t think I would remember anything.” Your shoulders jerk in a weak shrug, but the ladies get the gist.

“You did amazing today.” Five smiles, handing you an icepack, which you promptly pressed against your stomach. “Get some rest, when you’re up and ready for the day, come find me, we have a surprise for you”

Peeling your eyes open you squint at Five, trying to asses if her smile was genuine or not. “Is it more fighting? If it is, then I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it. I’ll be dead.”

“You’re already are dead.” Two pipes up, from where she had made herself comfortable on the dresser in your trailer.

Five rolls her eyes, shaking her head down at you. “No, it’s nothing like that. There’s a few shops not too far from here, it’s where we buy the essentials. There also happens to be a shop that sells furniture and such.”

Slowly, you close your eyes again, feeling sleep wrap its tendrils around your mind and body. “Oh how nice, a shopping spree….”

Five and Two share a smile as you drift to sleep, both women silently making their way out of your trailer. It was a depressing place to call home, but rules were rules. Until today, you were still considered to be in orientation, though now, you’d graduated. Which meant, you could finally decorate your trailer, and make it feel more like an actual home, and not like you were hiding from the law, as you were.

*****

You have no way of knowing how long you had slept for, though as you opened your eyes and looked out the window, you saw the sun now higher in the sky, so at least you hadn’t slept through the entire day. Flinching as you get up, you grab your cosmetics bag filled with your toiletries from one of the drawers in your trailer. Clothes and shoes are clumsily draped over your arms, as you make you slow shuffling way to the bathrooms. The facilities were as basic as they could get and reminded you of the communal bathrooms at camp sites you had visited with your family while growing up. There was one building for the men, and another for the women of the team, you had Five to thank for that. Apparently when she had first joined there was one unisex bathroom, she had gotten into a screaming match with One over this, and ultimately won. Thus, the now separate bathrooms.

Inside were four toilet stalls, two sinks, and a large tiled area with four shower heads, a plastic curtain pinned to the ceiling to block off the shower from the rest of the bathroom. A large mirror hung above the sinks, and beside it were multiple wooden shelves. Shrugging out of your clothes, you placed them onto one of the shelves, using a separate one for your clean clothes. With soap, and hair products in hand, you step into the shower, the cold water taking far too long to heat up. Though you supposed you should be thankful that there was hot water, there had been plenty of times you had been camping, only to find no hot water in the showers.

*****

After scrubbing yourself clean and redressing, you return to your trailer with the intentions of putting away your old clothes. On your way through the base, you hear two people arguing, the first voice was the all too familiar voice of One, while the other was less familiar but all too recognisable, Four’s deep British accent spitting words of venom at One. “I don’t give a fuck if she can fight! We don’t need a fucking hacker; we need a god damned driver!”

You falter in your steps, turning to look in the direction of the argument, finding the two men facing off from an abandoned plane. One stood in the plane’s exit door, a ladder propped against the side for easy access, while Four stood bellow him, hands balled into fists as he stared up at the older man.

“You do not decide who we do or don’t need on our missions Four.”

“She’s a fucking liability! Sure, she got lucky with Three today, but that won’t always be the case!”

“Eight’s role in the team isn’t combat! She’ll be doing things from a distance!”

Four laughs, a dry bitter sound that causes you to flinch. “Right, I get it. We put our necks on the line, but she gets to sit back in her comfy chair with a computer.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, isn’t it?”

“Of course it isn’t! She’ll be working from afar most of the time, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be under any less threat than us!”

“How do you figure that?”

“Missions change! What if you’re stuck in alley somewhere, no chance of escape and the closest person to your location is Eight. Wouldn’t you rather she have some combat training to help you? Or would you rather she just leave you there?”

“Well that all sounds great, but who gives a fuck if she can help us if we have no getaway vehicle?!”

“We don’t need one specific person dedicated to being the getaway driver!”

“That’s not what you said when you brought in Six! You told him he was the best Auto Racer you had ever seen, and that without him we wouldn’t stand a chance at escaping your fucking missions!”

“Six was a phenomenal racer, but look where that fucking got him! We don’t need a repeat performance!”

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about Six that way. He’s dead because of you and that clusterfuck of a first mission!”

“I won’t have you question me again Four, if you don’t like how things are around here, then you can fuck off back to England. You all do what I tell you to, and if I say we’ll be sharing the driving on missions, then we’re sharing the fucking driving.”

“You’re putting her on a god damned pedestal, all she can do is log into a bloody computer, and knock Three onto his fat arse. What makes you think she could drive a getaway car if you asked her to?”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the argument, anger rising up in your chest as you march off towards your trailer. You would show him, Four could doubt your abilities as much as he wanted, but you would prove him wrong.

From his high vantage point on the plane, One watches you storm off across the base from nearby. Had you heard all of that? Four follows One’s gaze, eyes landing on you as you make your way through the grounds, running a hand through your messy hair. Fuck, if he’d known you’d been there, he would’ve kept his mouth shut…

Taglist: @not-the-cleavers @jinxfirebolt18902 If you would to be added, let me know ❤

Chapter FOUR Check out my Masterlist!

Also, I’m kinda thinking of making a playlist on Spotify for this Fic. I’ve been listening to a heap of music while writing it, and they all seem to work pretty well with the story! Let me know if y’all would be interested in that at all?

113 notes · View notes