#look the 'trying entirely new builds for almost everyone' approach has definitely brought in some new inspiration | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harveywritings92 · 3 years

Text

BNHA scenario: You can’t feel pain

You were born with a heightened reflex quirk but you were also born with a very rare birth defect called chromosome 6 deletion, that causes you to not feel pain, hunger or fatigue, and you have like zero sense of fear & self preservation , your boyfriend only knows about your Quirk, you've kept your medical history to yourself, until you have an accident and he notices something off and start asking questions!

=======================

Dabi: He hadn't see you in a couple days and got worried, he then got a call from you asking to take you to the slums walk-in clinic, (I like to think, that the villains have whole a network of black market doctors that sympathize with them and run pop-up clinics, you have to have a password to to know where and how get in.) He checked his burner phone for a pop-up clinic and found one near by.

He got to your location and was stunned when he saw your right arm with a large knife jammed into it and a dead guy on the ground sporting a broken neck, He checked out your arm and winced realizing he couldn't pull it out without causing you anymore damage, He then examine your face, expecting tears, but... you seemed more annoyed by this whole situation then anything, Dabi was expecting you to be crying and whining at him to stop poking and moving your arm around... He thought you were in shock at first, but something was nagging at him that this wasn't normal.

Dabi was silent the entire way to the clinic, his eyes were burning holes into the back of your head, when you both arrived... and the first words the guard said to you was. "Y/n back again, for what? out of pills?" he sighed as you narrowed your eyes at the idiot and raised your injured arm up to show him, his jaw dropped and opened up immediately letting you both in. "What did he mean by that?" Dabi's voice was tense suddenly speaking up, "Why do you need pills?" You stiffened obviously hesitant to say anything, knowing full well Dabi doesn't like people keeping secrets from him!

"Just wait for Dr. Yuhei to come..."

"You're on first name bases with the staff now too?"

"...Dabi."

"..."

The cremator crossed his arms as a middle age man came in looking very happy to see her! "Y/n? what the damage today dislocation? burn damage, (cue Dabi flinching) road rash, broken bones..." His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas as he oh and awed at seeing the knife lodged in your arm. "Ha! you got knifed! I love it!" he exclaimed jubilantly while slapping his knee as he took out his tools.

Dabi just looked at this man like he was mad as a March hare! "What fuck is wrong with you?!" he demanded out getting the doctor's attention, it took a moment for the man to respond.

"Oh! Are you the boyfriend I've been hearing so much about!" the cremator's brows furrowed as Yuhei shook his hand congratulating Dabi for finding a real diamond in the rough! "Not many doctors can say they've worked on a patient with Chromosome 6 deletion!" the raven haired man blinked incredulously. "Chromo what?" now it was the doctor's turn to be confused. "She didn't tell...You didn't tell him?" he watched your face and saw your fraught expression.

"Huh...Well I'll be. That's certainly new!"

The doctor hummed before telling Dabi what was up about your condition, your boyfriend kept a neutral face but inside his emotions were churning. "Her reluctance to inform you of this...is probably to closes adduce to fear I've ever seen her display." Your face felt hot as you stared at Dabi expecting to him storm out instead, he just watched as the doctor pulled the knife out of your arm in fixed you with no anesthetic or pain-killers , Yuhei informed you that the knife had cracked the bone so you had wear a sling for a couple weeks, then reminded you to change your bandages properly, then handed you a refill of melatonin.

The walk back home was awkward as hell Dabi had yet to say anything... Before you reached your safehouse you felt Dabi fingers grab your jacket sleeve while keeping his eyes on the ground. "Listen... this thing you have, did I ever hurt you?" You cocked a brow bemused before recalling Yuhei asking you about your injuries, he mentioned burns... and realized where Dabi was going with this, had he burnt you any given point and not known about it due to you not noticing or not telling him.

You really wanted to say no... You really did! but accidents happen. "Not on purpose..." He winced hearing this as you continued. "sometimes during sex or when you're in a combat high." You reach up and patted him on the head making him flinch before relaxing into your touch. "If it'll keep you sane I'll tell you if I get hurt when we go on a run." Dabi hummed holding you close to him, needless to say the cremator became a tad more wary and protective of you during and after missions insisting he check your body over any injuries you hadn't noticed before leaving.

=====================

Hawks: "Can you feel that?" a Nurse asks baffled as You let out a bored sigh as she and the doctor reset your left leg. "No." you huffed for the umpteenth time, wanting to leave the damn hospital already! but Keigo insisted you needed the hospital, cos your leg was swollen and turning purple after really, rough fight with a villain who had gotten a hold of you by the leg and toss you off like a rag-doll as a snapped echoed through the battle field!

I didn't take long for you to figure out your femur was broken and you were a sitting duck! until Endeavor and Hawks showed up they beat the villain, then noticed you sitting in the road with your left leg in your hand hanging limply in your grasp like a wet noddle!

Your lack of impulse reaction caused them to think you'd gone into shock! Keigo quickly gathered you up flew to the nearest hospital! Telling you not panic everything was gonna be fine, you were gonna be alright! If only he knew the whimpering you were making wasn't from crying, but from laughing at him!

After the docs had reset your leg (with no meds.) and put it in a cast again without any medication, you rolled your wheelchair out into the hall in time to see the doctor telling your fiancée about your one a billion condition! You can see how nervous the blond was he almost seemed skeptical, Hawks asked the doctor if he was overexaggerating a bit? "...I don't think you get it Hawks! this condition so rare that only 40 cases have ever been recorded globally!" you felt your stomach twist... this was definitely not how you wanted Keigo to find out about this. Your original plan had been to sit him down some time next week and tell him about it!

You were brought out of your thoughts by a someone's gaze burning in to your head, you looked up and met Keigo's analyzing gaze as he observed your condition, not in a bed, not hook to an I.V. and certainly not under the influence of any sort of pain medicine... He seemed a little pale as he approached you. "Hey... can we talk?" he asked you nodded as the two of you got on the elevator to the roof. You could feel him still leering at you as you arrived at your stop.

"So..wha- what are you doing?!" You asked watching Keigo pinching your arm hard! and realized he was trying to invoke a reaction, but it was useless task as all it did was annoy you, this was the first thing people do when they find out about your chromosome 6 deletion, checking and seeing if you were faking it, Keigo felt panic bubble in his belly as he observed your reaction... or rather your lack of reaction. "Keigo..." You yelped suddenly feeling something tickling you under you chin, causing you to squirm and whimper as you tried not to burst out giggling.

You looked and saw the feather necklace Keigo had given you to be the culprit. "St-stop Keigo! stop!" When he heard you laugh, the blond relaxed, when the doc said you couldn't feel pain... he started wondering if your other senses were numb too, *of course that would be dumb!* he thought thinking back on how you react during sex and how you were acting now, pretty told him that everything else running fine. "Why didn't you tell me about this Chromosome thing?" You pretty much explained how you were, well... scared wasn't the right word, as you have no sense of the feeling, it was more like you were nauseous that his reaction would be negative...

Hawk looked at you wide eyed. "Wait, you...can't feel fear?" He asked curiously you nodded explaining that you lack of pain has pretty much dampened your instinctive sense of self preservation, which why you tend to go on for so long in a fight even when things get dicey... "So that whimpering on the way over." you nodded. "I was trying not to laugh..." You said bluntly Hawks went oh then curiously asked if he had accidently hurt you during intimate moments?

You were straight with him, he may have gone a little overboard during ruts, but nothing serious. Keigo didn't seem to like this answer. "Hey look at me." you huffed making gold eyes met your [y/ec] eyes. "I know you'd never hurt me on purpose, and if it makes you feel better you can check me over personally and pull me off patrol if you think somethings not right, does that work for you?" you waited as Hawks thought this over before nodding, The next day neither You nor Keigo were prepared for the tabloids headline: #2 Hero Hawks engaged to Bionic woman! You both cringed at the tacky tile!

=====================

Bakugou: "Stop you idiot!" Katsuki shouted as he watched you get up after one his explosions had sent you flying and crashing into one of the simulation buildings on the training field, as you looked around bemused as everyone was panicking, Toshinori aka your dad and Aizawa came up to you worried, the black haired teacher used his scarf as a bandage on you profusely bleeding head... which you just noticed. "Get a stretcher!" the teacher ordered.

"I don't need one I can wal-" Bakugou cut you off. "Get on the fucking stretcher Y/n!" You robotically obeyed as the medical team carried you to Recovery-Girl, who just shook her head when she saw you come in, she knows about your condition. "Y/n back again today, I'm started to wonder if you and Midoriya are related?" she teased causing you sweat-drop as Bakugou listened intently, and was very confuse when the old lady said this wasn't your first visit today....

"Oi, what exactly was she talkin' about?" the blonde huffed eyeing you suspiciously and was put off by you lack of reaction over your injuries. It didn't take a doctor to know that the knockback from his explosion should've cracked your skull and may have also broken your back, when you hit that building. "Oh, I had a little fall earlier, nothing to worry about." you said nonchalantly Your dad who was trying to keep himself from coughing up blood on the other hand spoke up. "I wouldn't call getting hit by a car a "Little fall" Y/n." Katsuki's eyes widened, oh if looks could kill. "YOU WERE HIT BY A CAR AND DIDN'T TELL ME?!" He bellowed as All-might jumped back in shock while You stared at your boyfriend with a blank expression.

He was frothing at the mouth as you listened to the blond rage like a chihuahua on caffeine, you looked at you dad having a metal conversation with the honey blond skeleton who nodded giving you the okay! you were gonna tell your boyfriend about your condition...With a sigh you calmly reached up and pinched Katsuki's nose between your index and middle finger. "Breath damn you!" you hissed the ash blond stilled and looked at you with annoyance for being interrupted.

"I get that you're angry... But you need to know something." Katsuki let out an inquisitive growl as you looked at him seriously. "I can't feel any of this... at all." You chortled his red eyes widened as you continued. "I was born with a rare Condition, Chromosome 6 deletion?" You looked at your dad, Toshinori nodded you let go of Bakugou's nose. as your dad continued. " In short Y/n can't feel pain, fatigue or hunger, so naturally she lacks a sense of fear." Recovery girl returned wiped the blood off your forehead, and kissed your cheek a few seconds later your head was healed, Katsuki stayed silent as he absorbed everything you and All-Might had told him the teen was really quiet which worried you.

Your dad sensed the tension and suggested the two of you go for a walk and talk this out, it was silent as you and Katsuki walked to a different part of the school that was more private, You turned to face you and were met with a fist flying at you! then stopping a few inches from your face, You didn't even flinch just gave him the same impassive expression from earlier. "If that was supposed to get a scream out me of you failed...royally." you hummed as as the blond frowned putting his fist down you can’t feel fear, even Half-n- Half’s eyes twitch when Katsuki psych’s him out!

"Why didn't you say anything anything about this?" he asked voice hoarse from yelling, You hummed trying finds the right words. "Well let's just say back in middle school I had a bad fricken time, kids can be cruel! you hummed not going into details on how others would exploit your medical condition for their own twisted fun. "I was...Scared is not the word, Sick the thought of you reacting the same as them made me feel sick." you were surprise when Katsuki pulled you close resting you head against his chest. "I would never hurt you like those brats did." he huffed wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Don't shut me out like that again," he kisses you nose causing you to blush. "fucking tell me if you think somethings wrong so I don't have to worry about your ass!" he huffed keeping one of his arms around you as you two walked back to class. After that Katsuki was a tad more protective of you often asking where that scratch/bruise came from? and checking to make sure you haven't broken anything during class or missions he was like Toshinori 2.0...

131 notes · View notes

interstellarflare · 4 years

Text

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART FOUR-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @itisa-profoundbond-sarandom

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked angrily, as you followed Homelander up the large staircase of your apartment complex and onto the roof. He hovered a few metres away from the edge, whilst you stood as close to the edge of the roof as you could. Homelander turned to face you, his hair gently rustling in the wind. “I’m going to confront Stillwell. I want answers, and she is going to give them to me”.

“We need to be smart about this...” You persisted throwing you arms out in annoyance “if you go charging in there all high and mighty and demand answers, she’s going to know that something is wrong. We need to do this discreetly, otherwise you’re going to fuck this up for everyone”.

“Excuse me?” Homelander growled, flying down so that he was hovering just away from the edge “I’m the Homelander. And I can do whatever the fuck I want. Nothing goes on at Vought without me knowing about it. You have no powers, you’re not special, no one would give a damn if something happened to you. So what makes you think you can help me?” he asked angrily, his eyes once again beginning to glow a dangerous red. You didn’t know why his words hurt so much, you didn’t understand why your chest tightened painfully. But you stood tall, clenching your hands into fists as you shouted “I don’t care who the fuck you are! What I care about is doing this right. If you go to Stillwell and demand answers, there’s a likely chance you will put The Seven in danger, and likely anyone else involved. I might not have powers, but at least one of us has to have some common fucking sense!”.

When no response came from The World’s Greatest Hero, you scoffed shrugging your shoulders as you stepped away from the edge of the roof “Then again, what do I know. I’m not special. But if I hadn’t hacked into your servers, you wouldn’t have known about this, and you would have been covering Vought’s arse for all the wrong reasons, not that you don’t do that anyway”. You turned on your heel and headed back towards the door, hugging your arms close to your body as you suddenly felt cold. You shivered, reaching out to grasp the door handle as a firm hand was placed on your shoulder. Homelander spun you around, glaring down at your form with his eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer to you. “What makes you think I don’t have any common sense?” he asked loudly, throwing his arms out in exasperation as he waited for your response. As you forcefully pushed him away from you, you ignored how surprised you were to see him stumble. He never stumbled. Then again, he didn’t let just anyone punch him either. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed loudly and stepped toward him “Classic Homelander tactic, you always rush in first. You act without thinking it through. You think that just because you are ‘The World’s Greatest Superhero’, that everyone will automatically grovel at your feet and beg for mercy!...” you shouted, your voice breaking as your tone became angrier “well guess what, even superheroes get screwed over. That’s just how the world works. And you’re angry. You’re angry because you got played-”

“Just shut up!” Homelander cried, his eyes glowing a menacing red before firing one large beam directly beside where you were standing. You shrieked, falling over onto your backside with a fearful gasp. The gravel atop the roof smouldered, grey smoke rising into the air in a steady pillar. That was it, this was the last straw. You quickly stood to your feet, rage surging through your blood as you shouted so loud, that you were certain that the entire neighbourhood could hear you. “Fine! If you want to go and fuck things up for yourself, then by all means go ahead. I’m not going to stop you! But you don’t get to come back to me and beg for my help when things go wrong. I’ve dealt with enough of this shit to last me a lifetime, and I don’t need more of it. Especially, not from someone like you!”. With one final glare, you stormed off the roof, slamming the door to the stairwell behind you hard enough that the sound echoed throughout the entire building. The walk to your apartment became a blur, so much so that you don’t even remember walking through the door, or hearing Max’s pestering questions about where Homelander had gone.

Instead, you stormed straight to your bedroom, closing the door behind you with a harsh bang before leaning back against it. You buried your head in your hands, collapsing to the floor as you brought your knees up to your chest. And for all the wrong reasons, you cried. You cried, because the fucking bastard didn’t care about anyone else but himself. You cried, because he couldn’t see what he was doing to the people around him. What he was doing to you. A small part of you still wanted to believe that there was still some good in him, after he had saved your life from a car accident all those years ago. The accident had happened just before Max had been born. You were on your way to the hospital to meet Michael when your car collided with that of an intoxicated driver. You car flipped several times, trapping you inside the wreckage upside down as it caught fire. You still wonder what had possessed him to save your life that night, what made him decide that you were worth saving? How could someone with such extraordinary gifts, abuse them in such a way?

You sighed heavily, wiping the tears from your face as your wrapped your arms around your form, giving yourself what little comfort you could. Unknown to you, or anyone within the apartment complex, Homelander had never left. He could hear your faint sobs through the layered walls, your heartfelt cries and awkward sniffles as you tried so desperately to assure your nephew that you were fine. He could see you hiding in your bedroom, alone and hurting. And a small part of him felt guilty for causing you to feel this way. But he couldn’t talk to you, not now. He needed answers, and he would get them by whatever means necessary. But your words stuck with him the entire flight back to Vought International, ‘We need to be smart about this...at least one of us has to have some common fucking sense’.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you weren’t. But he would never know now, as he instead changed his direction and flew about the city, trying to clear his head of tonights events.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since your argument with Homelander, and nothing had changed.

It had been quiet for the most part, except for when Max stopped by every afternoon after school as your apartment was within walking distance. More often than not, Black Noir stopped by as well. He often sat outside on the fire escape, perched either reading a book or casually watching you as you went about your daily activities. So at some point, and you’re still unsure as to why, but you invited him inside.

You started to leave your window unlocked again for whenever he came by, and he didn’t talk much. Which surprisingly made him a very good listener. He listened to your every word with some sort of interest, and it felt good to have another adult around, one that actually listened to you and didn’t argue. In those two weeks, you managed to get a new phone, a new number, and managed to establish all your old contacts again. Butcher was the only one you couldn’t make contact with. He hadn’t stopped by your apartment either, which left you a little disheartened. You figured that the CIA considered you a loose end, and that Homelander had or would likely kill you when he was done with you. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine at the thought.

You sat at the dining room table, trying to weave your way through Vought’s servers for a second time. But you hadn’t expected such resistance. They had definitely upgraded their technology, their firewalls were practically impenetrable. You cursed under your breath, slamming your hands against the table’s surface out of frustration. Noir looked up from the book he was reading on your couch, his head tilting to the side out of confusion and questioning. You groaned, running a stressed hand through your hair “When did Vought upgrade their servers?” You asked him, not really expecting a helpful answer from him at all. When Noir shrugged and returned his gaze back to his book, you poked your tongue out childishly in his direction. “Thanks a lot, arsehole” You grumbled, rolling your eyes as he gave you a sarcastic thumbs up. Before you could respond with a disrespectful quip, there was a loud knock at the door.

Again, you groan, muttering a few jumbled incoherent phrases under your breath as you approached. You swung the door open without thinking, and almost choked on air when you eyes landed on the person on the other side. Homelander stood with his eyes downcast, his hues a darker and sadder shade of blue than they usually were. His right arm leaned against the doorframe, his usually combed back fair hair in slight disarray. You looked him up and down, swallowing thickly as a heavy silence filled the hallway. You cleared your throat, folding your arms over your chest as you opened your mouth to speak.

“I want to try it your way...” Homelander suddenly spoke, his voice low and devoid of his usual sarcastic and pompous tone. Your eyes widened as you were taken aback by his sudden sincereness. You bit your bottom lip, raising an eyebrow in challenge “Did demanding answers not do it for you?-”

“I didn’t...ask Stillwell about Project Cerberus...” He snapped bitterly, gritting his teeth as he lifted his eyes to meet your own. You nodded slowly, hating the way you so easily gave in and stepped aside, allowing the man before you to step into your apartment. But before he could walk past you, you reach out and grabbed his upper arm with your hand, looking up at the Supe from the corner of your eye. “Yell at me like you did two weeks ago again, and I’m done. Understand?” You spoke seriously, your grip tightening around his bicep as a silent promise. Homelander nodded wordlessly, and you released him from your hold. You closed the door to your apartment and headed back towards the living room, where Homelander nodded a curt greeting to the other Supe sitting on the couch. “Just out of curiosity, is there something else I can call you other than Homelander? Otherwise I’m just going to call you prick or arsehole” you stated blatantly, smirking tauntingly as the man before you turned to face your figure with a stern and harsh expression. With his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring in anger, you held your hands up in defence “Okay then, baby steps...baby steps”.

Your eyes widened in shock as Noir released a huff sounding close enough to a laugh. After making eye contact with Homelander out of bewilderment, and after seeing that he wore a similar expression, you shook your head. After deciding that Noir possibly laughing wasn’t as weird as having two of The Seven currently situated in you apartment, you motioned Homelander over to your laptop, where the two of you set about breaking into Vought’s servers.

Tag List: @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #antony starr

582 notes · View notes

jasontoddiefor · 4 years

Text

Summary: In a world where the different Jedi sects co-exist, Ahsoka Tano and her Master Obi-Wan Kenobi are waiting for a stranger in the desert.

AN: I have started a new WIP.

Ahsoka had learned quite a lot since she had become her Master’s Padawan. Mostly she had been taught how to fight, take down opponents twice her size, how to defend and protect others by building walls higher than anyone could climb, and not get lost in the screaming, tear-stained horror of war. Perhaps it was not the padawanhood that Ahsoka had imagined, but she wouldn’t trade Obi-Wan for any other Master. He was patient, kind, and never lost his temper with her, even when Ahsoka made a foolish mistake, and the day had been longer than a week.

Her Master always kept busy, running around organizing one thing or another. The evidence of his exhaustion was visible in the bags under his eyes he didn’t quite manage to hide behind meditations anymore. He was relentlessly trying to find a way to end this war earlier, to save more people, to lessen the burden on each and every person he loved. Ahsoka would be glad if they could cease fighting within just a few short months, but even she knew that the chance of peace was dwindling with every life lost on either side.

And they certainly weren’t on Tatooine to talk about peace. At most, they were hoping to negotiate non-involvement from the Hutts – at least superficially, of course the Hutts would continue with their underground dealings, even the GAR relied on it – and use of their hyperspace lanes.

“General, if you don’t mind me asking, who are we waiting for?”

Ahsoka was glad that Cody had spoken up. She wasn’t sure if she would have been able to keep her silence much longer. She hadn’t wanted to pester Obi-Wan with questions, but she was curious why they had landed in the middle of the Force-forsaken desert in the middle of the night and not anywhere near Jabba’s palace.

“We are waiting for an informant,” Obi-Wan said. “An old friend, if you will.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to ask what kind of friend Obi-Wan had on Tatooine of all places when she saw a figure approaching on a speeder. Immediately, everyone looked up. When a few of the more blaster-inclined clones of their small squadron reached for their weapons, Obi-Wan gave them the hand sign to lay low. They exchanged curious looks but dropped the guns, trusting him completely. Ahsoka hoped that she could inspire such trust in her someday.

The person parked their speeder just outside of their camp. From what Ahsoka could see, they were dressed entirely in dark robes, cut not dissimilar to those of a Coruscanti Jedi, while their face was covered by a dark scarf. Various trinkets hung from their belts and arms, as well as twin blasters, making the barest of noises when they approached the camp. Golden jewelry glinted in the light of their fire, feathers, pouches, bells, and something that could be bones chimed sweetly with the wind. The figure stretched, then they took notice of Obi-Wan. Quicker than Ahsoka could have stopped them, they had crossed the remaining distance and thrown themselves at Obi-Wan.

“Obi-Wan!”

Her Master just barely managed to keep his balance as he accepted the hug of the other person. They embraced tightly, an eternity passing in which dark leather-gloved fingers dug into her Master’s back, then let go of each other. The figure removed the dark scarf from around their head, let it fall around their neck, revealing tanned skin, a human face, and dark blonde hair that was framed by little golden feathers tugged behind his ears.

The person smiled openly, rolled forward on their toes and only then spoke. “It’s been a while.”

Their voice was surprisingly soft, melodic almost.

“That it has,” Obi-Wan agreed, smiling just as welcoming, the Force lighting up in reciprocal. “It has been too long since we last saw each other, Anakin. Thank you for meeting us here, even if the circumstances are not ideal.”

The newly named Anakin just shrugged. “I was in the area and really, making an extra stop at Tatooine for you is no trouble.”

The two looked ready to forget about just everyone else still standing around the campfire, watching them, and so Ahsoka decided to do her duty and coughed. “Master, would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Apologies, Ahsoka.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin mumbled, then snapped their fingers, alight with recognition as they faced Obi-Wan. “Your Padawan, correct?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin grinned, pointing at Cody next. “And then that must be Cody. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Anakin Skywalker, he/him.”

He bowed formally with both his feet firm on the ground, one hand clasped over his heart, the other on his back. Delighted, Ahsoka copied the gesture. It had been ages since she’d been at the temple and someone had greeted her with all the respect Jedi usually gave each other.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ahsoka returned his greeting, still trying to figure out who this Anakin was that her Master had decided to talk to him about her.

“Anakin here is a Teepo Paladin—”

“Sort of,” Anakin interrupted Obi-Wan, tilting his hand and shaking it in a so-and-so matter. “I haven’t been back to our temple in years, so I’m still not technically a Paladin, but still a Knight on their Search…”

He stopped talking when he realized that nobody had any idea of what he was talking about. Ahsoka didn’t know much about the Teepo Paladins. They were a relatively small group, and unlike the Altisian or Corellian Jedi, they hadn’t joined the Republic Army and stayed mostly on their own, following the Force. Ahsoka had learned about them, and all the other groups the ordinary sentient threw under the header Jedi, in her classes, but she’d never actually met a Teepo Jedi.

“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin said, shaking his head. “How can I help you?”

“We need to negotiate with Jabba,” Obi-Wan said, not wasting a single minute. “Do you think you can tell us something that would be useful?”

“Uh,” Anakin put his head in his hands. “Yeah, he’s a bastard and gates my guts. If he sees me around you guys, it’s definitely not going to be pleasant.”

“What did you do to him?” Ahsoka asked, curiosity taking ahold of her tongue before she could stop herself.

Anakin didn’t seem to mind the interruption; he only eagerly continued his narration. “Decided to steal his latest shipment of slaves and then some. With Coruscant, Corellia, and the Altisian bores—”

“Anakin.” Her Master’s voice rang out sharp, reminding Ahsoka of the times he scolded her.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine, the Altisian Jedi all running the Republic army, the rest, who hasn’t sworn allegiance to a planet or a system, is just doing damage control all around. I’ve wrecked a couple dozen pirate ships already, or so it feels, at least. But yeah, long story short, I won’t be able to help with Jabba, but I can provide backup if it goes sideways?”

Obi-Wan sighed, but even so, he still felt happy and comfortable to Ahsoka’s senses as he hadn’t in weeks. “We’ll take what we can get. I’ll call the Council. Do you want to stay with us for the night?”

Anakin gave him a thumbs up. “Already told my mother I was staying. And I brought my own food, so you don’t have to spare your rations. I think I might even have some sweets.” He glanced at Ahsoka and winked conspiringly, making her giggle.

Obi-Wan’s expression softened. “Alright, alright, I see, you’re set for life. Get comfortable then.”

He turned around to walk a little away from the camp, but from the way his shoulders twitched, Ahsoka assumed that he definitely heard Anakin’s shouted: “Not without you!”

As her Master had ordered, everyone who wasn’t on watch gathered around the campfire and broke out the rations. Anakin did, indeed, share his candy with her and handed out more of the local food to the clones.

“My mother packed it,” he said when he shared more of the salt-covered blackberries. “It would be a waste not to share it.”

Sitting around the fire with them, he fit right in despite not looking much like a warrior. If anything, his attire, decorated with trinkets that had to stem from various planets, reminded Ahsoka of a traveler. But if she were to believe his stories, he must be quite the fighter. Ahsoka knew that more and more pirates were growing powerful and influential without Coruscant’s oversight, but she hadn’t known that the other sects had stepped up to deal with it. She wondered if the Council knew. Though, Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed surprised by it, so they were probably aware.

“So, do you not carry a lightsaber?” Ticker, one of the younger clones, asked. “I only see your blasters. I didn’t know Jedi carried those.”

“The Coruscant sect doesn’t,” Anakin agreed and then turned to Ahsoka. “Though, I think you’re still all taught how to? I know Obi-Wan’s wickedly good with a sniper rifle.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka replied quickly. She got her blaster sessions with the best marksmen of the 212th, who all ensured she should be fine if she ever lost her lightsaber.

Not that Ahsoka was planning on it.

“Right, my Order carries blasters additionally to our lightsabers.” He moved his robes and revealed his lightsaber. “I just keep it a little more hidden away. It makes it easier to work sometimes if people don’t see from a mile away that you’re a Jedi.”

Ahsoka found herself agreeing with him. It made sense and she knew that there had been at least five missions that would have been easier if their target hadn’t immediately spotted that she was a lightsaber. She knew that her Order carried the blades openly purposefully so that they could be easily identified, they had to be as they were an officially recognized member of the Republic, but Quinlan and Aayla didn’t. Most Covenant Jedi actually didn’t, ensuring they could do their work in the shadows. Occasionally, Ahsoka wondered whether she was supposed to know so much about how they operated, or if that was just a benefit of Obi-Wan being close friends with Quinlan.

“And where’s the difference between your… everything and the General’s?”

“Don’t ask me for details,” Anakin said. “Haven’t had one of those discussions in a while, but our differences aren’t that huge. Most of the differences stem from the Republic backing of the Coruscant sect, I think. The members of my Order just also carry blasters and fight entirely submerged in the Force. We also don’t really do missions, which sucks for budgeting because we still have to get funding, and just go wherever the Force takes us. We don’t really have the numbers to provoke the big changes, that’s more up Coruscant’s or Corellia’s alley. We try to help the small people on the ground and hope the big guys make sure we can leave one planet in safe hands and travel to the next.”

That sounded familiar to Ahsoka. The Coruscant sect was the largest, so they had the most influence, even if too many Senators only played pretend at listening to their suggestions. At least the Chancellor trusted them.

“What do you mean, fight submerged in the Force?” A different clone, Storytime, ever the curious, spoke up. “Is that different from the General and the Commander?”

“Oh! Right.” Anakin laughed. “So basically, we cover our eyes and ears during a fight?”

“You do what?” Cody’s alarmed tone made Ahsoka only snort. She still remembered his attempt at getting Obi-Wan to wear a little more armor by pointing at the Revanchist folks that had accompanied them on one mission.

It had been an absolute train-wreck, but they had managed to succeed. Somehow.

Anakin only grinned in reply and reached for the golden feathers behind his ears. He took them off, revealing that they were not, in fact, feathers, but electronic devices with small buttons.

“I tap these, and they block out any and all noise and cover my eyes. Then I trust the Force to keep me safe and tell me where I need to pay attention.”

“That sounds… risky.” If Ahsoka didn’t know better, she’d say that Cody was having a heart attack. His assessment of that fighting style had been exceedingly polite given that he looked as if he wanted to cuss it out.

Anakin shrugged as if it were no big deal to him and, having grown up in such a way, it probably wasn’t. “It wasn’t that difficult to get used to. I grew up here on Tatooine. The sand and the heat steal away plenty of your senses already.”

“You weren’t raised in your temple then?”

Anakin shook his head. “No, not really. We do have a temple, a rather small one, not even a tenth of Coruscant’s size. We raise children there, but most of the time, everyone is just on their Search.”

He emphasized the last word so that Ahsoka concluded it must be a special ritual that wasn’t like their Search for younglings.

“My Master was on his Search when he found me and since the Force didn’t call him home, he continued to travel with me.”

That sounded like a strange childhood to have. Ahsoka hadn’t known anything of the galaxy but the temple walls and Ilum until Obi-Wan had accepted her as his Padawan. Since then, she had seen plenty of other planets, even if she hadn’t had too much time to appreciate their beauty. She wondered how Anakin had gotten his education. Ahsoka had attended many classes of dozens of teachers in the temple. His childhood didn’t appear to resemble hers a lot, but she could easily picture a small human boy trailing after another masked Jedi, chatting with just the same cheer he was talking now.

“Sounds fascinating,” Storytime breathed.

“Once the war is over, feel free to come to visit us. I know of at least one other Paladin who has attached himself to a Clone squadron and is planning to take them home for a visit at least once.”

“That would be very kind,” Storytime replied.

“No problem.”

Anakin then suddenly turned his head, his motion so rash that the clones instinctually reached for their blasters. Thankfully, they recognized Obi-Wan quickly enough that nobody got hurt accidentally.

Obi-Wan only blinked at them and then sat down next to Anakin. “What a lovely greeting.”

Some of the clones sheepishly packed their blasters away while others just shot back a look that was as dry as Obi-Wan’s words. They were on Tatooine; it made sense to be even more on guard than usual.

“And? What did your Council say?” Anakin asked, handing Obi-Wan a plate with food.

“Coruscant is not taking any responsibility for any outside agents who might get involved in this mission,” Obi-Wan replied, the flow of his words so steady that he had to be reciting the words of another.

“That’s council speak for ‘let him do whatever he wants’, right?”

Obi-Wan paused with his meal to confirm his question. “Yes, Anakin, that means you can do whatever you want. But if you get invited by the Republic for a hearing, we’re not backing you up either.”

“Yes, yes, I had expected nothing else from you sticker-to-the-rules Coruscanti.”

“Says the head-in-the-clouds Teepo,” Obi-Wan retorted in the same manner, matching Anakin’s intonation, quoting old stereotypes that used to be hurled as insults but have since only become something almost akin to terms of endearments.

“So, when are we going to leave?” Ahsoka asked. She wanted to know if she should go to bed early or prepare herself for a long night.

“Tomorrow before the sun rises,” Obi-Wan said, glancing at Anakin for confirmation.

“Yes, best to leave early on Tatooine. I’d also suggest trying to get some sleep. Negotiations will be exhausting.”

Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. “You know what that means, Ahsoka.”

“Yes, yes.” Ahsoka stood up. “Bedtime for me. I’m not a little youngling anymore, Master. I know when to get my sleep.”

She bid them goodnight and headed back towards the ship, ready to sleep curled up in the small med-station of their transport that was as close to a proper bed as she could get. She didn’t know how much longer her Master and his friend stayed up, but both looked well-rested when she got up the next day. Her Master, perhaps, even a little less exhausted than usual.

#star wars #ahsoka tano #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #commander cody #fanfic

222 notes · View notes

tooruluv · 4 years

Text

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,855

warnings/notes: i would like to say that the "soulmate au but only when you're actually in love" thing is not my idea! i don't know who's idea it was, and i'm sure it was created by several people, but i just wanted to tell you all that i wish i was that creative but, unfortunately, i am not. so! i wanted to give credit where credit is do! moving on to the fic! <3 enjoy, loves

tag list: @vhskenma @elianetsantana @mini-eggs-reads

| next

masterlist

“ you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you ” - can’t take my eyes off of you, frankie vallie

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Kei Tsukishima did not believe in falling in love. Sure, he believed in loving things, but being in love sounded absolutely ridiculous. The entire basis of love, relationships… it just never made any sense to him.

You, on the other hand, very well might have your heart placed on your sleeve. You had a million crushes, a constant new person in your focus. The thing was, you had never seen color.

Color only came to those who fell in love. Through those crushes, through those varying false relationships and games of spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven, you had never actually fallen in love.

It was becoming frustrating.

While Tsukishima was perfectly content in living in a world without love, in the same greyscale life he had always known, while you were drowning trying to find someone to hang onto.

What strange friends you were.

Well, not friends, per say. But acquaintances for sure. A comfortable relationship between the two of you full of eye contact, your flirtations, and his constant coming into your coffee shop.

If we had to name a beginning, it started the first week of the summer.

You were working at a coffee shop, this little place called Blu. It was a simple corner shop, squished in between two other buildings. You just wanted a summer job to pass by time and get some money, nothing permanent.

Until, one day a tall boy with glasses walked into the place.

He looked bored out of his mind as his eyes scanned the menu above your head. He didn’t say anything when you greeted him (“Welcome to Blu! What can I get for you today?” in your best customer service voice), nor did he say anything when you handed him his coffee. He only spoke to you once, a monotone “I’ll take a black coffee” when he ordered.

You were absolutely infatuated.

One, because who orders a plain black coffee in the middle of the summer? And two, he was cute.

He had to be your age, you decided. Though most kids your age would never get a plain black coffee, and he was pretty tall, he had the youth you did. You just knew.

“Kei!” you called for his order. He didn’t even look into your eyes.

This was a repeat occurrence throughout the rest of the summer, every morning. Sometimes he would say something more, like add a little “Hello.” before ordering. Or he would steal glances at you, and there would be a staring contest for a moment or two.

Occasionally, he even muttered “thank you” when you handed him the mug. Call it what you want, but you called it “progress”.

One particular morning, he was dressed up. You didn’t know what for, you didn’t know much about him as it were, and all you could do was admire. He was stunning in a dark suit, the greyscale doing nothing but bring out how handsome he looked in it.

“Well, don’t you look ravishing today?” You flirted, already moving to get his black coffee. “The usual?”

He gave a small nod, not reacting to your compliment. He had his hands in his pockets, and a dangly earring in one ear.

“Well, here you go.” You handed him the mug. “One plain black coffee for Kei. Don’t spill it on yourself.”

“I would never.” He said. His voice was still monotone, but you caught it. A small quip in the corner of his lip. You almost got him to smile.

However, most mornings it was the same thing. He would come in, order a black coffee for “Kei”, and sit near the window and scroll through his phone through sips. You would watch as the sun created lighter greys along his skin and hair, you would watch as the glare gleamed off of his glasses.

Oh, how you wished you could see the color of his hair.

And, one day, you did.

It was a usual summer day. Autumn was approaching fast, so cool wind started to battle against the sun. But he came in nonetheless; Kei, with his black coffee. Except, this time was different.

“Welcome back, stranger.” You greeted, smiling as bright as you could. You didn’t even ask him what he wanted, you were already getting the black coffee ready behind the counter.

“I’ll take a black coffee.” he said, monotone and normal.

But, it wasn’t normal, not even the slightest bit. Because when you looked up to hand him his coffee, you were met with an array of colors.

You had to blink a few times, just to make sure that you were seeing what you were seeing. The colors were faded, newly forming, but they were still very much there. He had light yellow hair. No. “Blonde” was the word you were looking for.

He was frozen too, just standing there. But then you realized that you were just staring, his coffee in your hands. He must’ve thought you were insane.

��Kei, can I ask you something?” you asked, not wanting to hand him his drink yet. You weren’t one to let your questions go unanswered.

For a moment, he blinked at you. He definitely had to think you were insane. “What?”

“Do you see color?”

If you saw color as you looked at him, you hoped that maybe… maybe he saw color when he looked at you.

“No.”

Right. Of course not.

“Okay. Thanks! I was just wondering.” you handed him the mug, plastering a fake smile on your face (partly for the sake of customer service, and mainly to cover your disappointment). “Enjoy!”

He gave you one last look over, one last glance, before going to his usual spot by the window.

The thing was, you were hoping that he did. You know how ridiculous it sounded, being in love with someone who only spoke a couple of sentences to you. But you couldn’t deny that spending the entire summer excited to see that one person at work… it made sense that you would be.

You just weren’t expecting the colors to arrive right before you leave the job. The perfect time to fall for someone you will probably never see again once you leave and return to school and sports full-time.

Love really does come when you least expect it.

For the rest of that day, you spent your time finding as many colors as you could. You didn’t want it to go away, though it was a likely chance. The colors go away when the love does.

You had to look up what some of the colors were. It was strange to be taught the colors without ever seeing them, and your parents had explained how some colors look, but it was completely different. It was like each of them had their own feeling.

But, even then, you only witnessed the faded versions of those colors. The sky was a pale blue, hidden by the grey clouds. The grass was almost yellow, and the shop you worked at was a soft brown. Everything was still hidden by the greyscale you were accustomed to. And you couldn’t help but want to see more, see them in their full color.

Maybe falling completely and utterly in love would be an amazing thing.

It was comparable to the sun and moon, the relationship between you and Kei Tsukishima. You danced around each other, hoping to chase the light the other brought.

When you worked the next morning, your usual boy didn’t show up. Your eyes searched for him every time the small ding of the bell above the door announced someone entering. But it was never him.

Sighing, you ended your last shift there. Maybe you would come back as a customer, order a drink that has way too much sugar, and sit in his spot in hopes he would show up and sit with you. Or maybe you would run into him on your way out.

Or not.

As you hung up your apron for the last time, gave your manager your nametag and said your last goodbyes to your favorite coworkers, you accepted the fact that the colors would leave soon. They very well couldn’t stay if you end up falling out of love with a boy you would never see again.

It had been months.

Months, and the colors didn’t leave and didn’t grow any brighter. You were stuck in a world where everything was filtered to be faded, and you were growing annoyed.

“Just fucking go away already.” you spoke to the universe.

You would rather live in a world without color than live in a world of almost.

“Everyone!” Daichi called for the team to join him. They obeyed. “Now that Coach Ukai is our official coach, he’s come up with an idea. I think it’s pretty good, so hear him out.” Daichi announced. He turned to their coach, letting him speak.

“Alright, guys.” Ukai crossed his arms. “We have some tournaments this weekend. So do some of the other sports teams, specifically the girls volleyball teams and the softball and baseball teams.”

Tsukki was bored. What did softball and baseball have to do with volleyball? Their season isn’t for months, anyway. They have plenty of time before actual games.

“So, I’ve talked with the softball and baseball coaches and they think that it’s a good idea for us to team up for some fundraising things the next couple of weeks so we can get buses.” Ukai explained. “And, on top of that, someone from the softball team said that they would help us with volleyball practices after softball, since we typically end later than they do.”

“Wait, softball?” Tanaka gaped. “So a girl’s gonna be helping us?”

“A girl already does help us, dumbass.” Tsukki rolled his eyes. Kiyoko did too, but subtly.

“Yeah, she’ll be here in a couple of minutes so I wanted to give a warning.” Ukai said. “She’s in her first year, too, but I expect respect. Alright, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on with practice.”

Okay, cool. Now back to practice. The reason they’re there to begin with.

They practiced for a bit, going through drills and did a bit of half-assed running (which Tsukki still never understood, why would he have to run miles if he’s just a blocker?). Until a girl walked in.

It was you.

You were here, at Karasuno, at his practice.

You walked in, still in your softball practice uniform. Every time that he had seen you during the summer, you never had your hair down. But, when you walked into the gym and greeted Coach Ukai with a smile, your hair was down and messy from the wind.

Everyone else had noticed Tsukki had stopped in his tracks and dropped what they were doing, turning their heads to see what he was looking. Or rather, who. Now you had the entire team’s attention.

That was when you caught his eye.

His breathing stopped. And so did yours.

369 notes · View notes

shotofire · 4 years

Text

There’s Just Something About Him

•SHOTO TODOROKI x READER

•Overview: having feelings for the icy hot boy just seemed like a lost cause

•Warnings: just some cursing, meantions of anxiety.

•Season: 3

You’d always found the split haired boy attractive, but nothing ever went beyond that. It seems that even if you wanted it to nerves would just be in the way. Besides, everyone’s working to become pro-hero’s, who has time for a relationship? With all the shit going on you were almost positive that Todoroki didn’t have you in mind at all. The constant sneak attacks from villains, not knowing when the next person is going to get hurt, it was all too much.

Atleast that’s what you tried to convince yourself. The sweet, quiet boy who’d caught your eye since the first day of school just couldn’t possibly like you. He couldn’t possibly let a thought like that even make it halfway into his head. You’d lost hope a couple months into school, realizing fate definitely wasn’t on your side.

The two of you never got partnered up or even in the same group. It’s as if something is telling you it’s not meant to be. Sure you’d taken your own initiative and made conversation with the boy, but it’s always short lived. He wasn’t the best at talking unless he was on an adrenaline rush during a practice scenario. You had never gotten the luck of him wanting to use your quirks together either.

It truly felt hopeless.

You tried your best not to dwell on these things. If it was meant to be it just would’ve happened by now. Right?

The thoughts left your mind as you walked with your fellow classmates. Today is an exciting day, it was time to move into the new dorms. It took way too much convincing with your family, but eventually they caved in. You knew it’d be hard, they’re just worried about you. At this point the whole world was worried about all of the UA students safety. But everyone can agree that dorms are the safest it can get with all of the new high tech security.

You all stopped, admiring the new tall building in front of you. Knowing Todoroki was going to be in the same building as you every night had your anxiety on edge. But you were also... excited? For what, you had no idea. It was just a swirl of emotions.

Oh no, he’s gonna see my puffy morning eyes.

The happy chatter was cut short when Mr. Aizawa started talking about hero licenses, something that seemed to slip everyone’s minds. He was rather intimidating, eyes stern and serious. It sent a wave of uneasiness throughout the group. He knew the whole class was aware of the plan to save Bakugou, and he wasn’t happy. You stare at him with legs beginning to tremble.

His words cut deep as he threatened the possibility of expelling the entire class. You definitely wouldn’t put it past him, he seems like the type. But, as he said, due to All Might’s retirement the need for hero’s was strong. He couldn’t just get rid of such potential.

You looked at Todoroki’s face and it was frozen, he seemed more worried than anyone else. His heterochromia eyes stayed fixed on Mr. Aizawa, and you couldn’t help but let yourself take in his features. Sure you see the boy almost everyday but it’s hard to get good long looks when you’re sitting in class, he’d easily feel your gaze. There’s already been a couple times where he’s caught you and the embarrassment was too much to handle again.

His jaw was cleanched and sharp as ever. You just loved it. You wondered if it was weird to think about running your slim fingers along the bone of his jaw, it was just so beautiful.

“(y/n), are you even listening to me? Or are you just going to stare at Todoroki?”

In that moment it felt like you were going to throw up. All eyes shot to you, including Todoroki. Mr. Aizawa was a real ass sometimes but this definitely was the worst thing hes ever done to you, and he’d made you fall on your face after taking away your quirk infront of the whole class. That was absolutely nothing compared to this.

“I- uh, I-I wasn’t, I just-“ you were totally at loss for words. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. The heat on your face was hotter than ever, and you knew it was visible as well.

Mr. Aizawa rolled his eyes, no longer caring about the predicament, “Anyways, that’s all. Look alive, enjoy your new home.”

That statement didn’t help anyone’s nerves after his little intimidation speech, but you had it the worst. Your face was still red and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Today was not going the way you hoped, and you didn’t dare even peak at Todoroki. You couldn’t help but think he thought you were weird. A girl he barely talks to constantly staring at him, there’s no way he didn’t think that.

The speech about where the boys and girls were was given, including where everything else was. But you could hardly pay attention focus on anything, and you didn’t dare look up.

It was time to decorate your rooms and make it your own, and you couldn’t be more relieved. Finally away from that embarrassment, even though it was waiting for you on the other side of your closed door.

“damnit,” you cursed. No one was going to forget that and you knew it. And the girls were beyond nosey when it came to crushes, especially Ashido.

After a couple hours of getting things together there was a knock on your door. You immediately froze. It’s like you had forgotten where you were and what had happened for a little bit, but of course you were quickly brought back to reality.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“Its Uraraka, can I come in?”

Shes always the sweetest and you knew she wouldn’t bug you about anything. Especially after seeing the way you reacted. Uraraka always had her suspicions that you found Todoroki cute, your eyes practically lit up everytime he did something.

You granted her permission and continued to put your pillows neatly on the bed. She was in her pj’s but definitely seemed wide awake.

“Oh wow, your room is so cute (y/n)! Nothing compared to mine,” her smile was huge. You just adored her, she always brightened up your mood.

“Thank you so much Uraraka, you’ll have to show me your room later before that is confirmed,” you smiled back.

“Oh course! Actually, speaking of rooms, that’s what I came here for. The girls and I convinced the guys to show us their rooms and we kinda turned it into a little contest. Wanna join?”

Her request was extremely appealing. You immediately wondered what Todoroki’s room looked like, and now was your opportunity to see it. But the nerves were still there, and the embarrassment was even stronger. You just couldn’t face everyone right not, especially Todoroki’s. He probably didn’t want your creep self in there anyways.

“Thanks for asking Uraraka, but i’m very tired. I was just planning on finishing my room and crashing. But I still would like to see your room sometime tomorrow,” you said while trying to hold your smile. But she could see the said frown behind it, but she didn’t want to bother you any further. She could only imagine how she’d react and feel if Mr. Aizawa did that to her. She’d be completely horrified.

“You got it, see you tomorrow (y/n). Sleep well!”

She leaves, shutting the door behind her. Your smile quickly fades and your shoulders fall limp.

I really wish I could see his room, I bet it’s awesome.

In all honestly you figured Todoroki would be relieved you didn’t show. God, class tomorrow was going to be hell. You just knew it, there’s no way you’d be able to focus knowing the whole class knows you’re a freak who can’t keep your eyes off the icy hot boy.

You pushed your thoughts aside, ignoring them to the best of your ability. You attempted to sleep, but the constant stamper of footsteps above you and outside your door was keeping you from the world of dreams. The world where assholes like Mr. Aizawa didn’t completely humiliate you.

Just as sleep started to creep up on you, there was another knock on your door. It was soft, and you immediately knew it wasn’t Uraraka. You sat up in the darkness, reaching for your bedside lamp. It faintly lit the room with a yellow glow, and made a light buzzing noise. You were too tired to speak up and ask who it was, so you forced yourself out of bed.

Maybe it was Momo, she did say she was looking forward to seeing your room. You pushed your wild hair out of your face before opening the door. And when you saw who was standing there a sharp breath immediately got caught in your throat. You let out a light cough.

“Todoroki?” you asked confused. He was all alone, no one with him. The lights in the hallway were out, one could only assume the competition was over and everyone else had gone to bed. Yet here he is, standing before you.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing ever. You didn’t know what to say, he’d never even approached you first. But he can knock on your door late at night to talk to you?

You looked at him in disbelief. In that moment you realized how little you knew about this boy, and how odd this situation was.

“What time is it?” You asked, completely ignoring what he said. He huffed, he knew you’d be difficult. You two may not talk much but he’s good at observing. He knew you more than you’d think.

“Almost 12, not too late. Can I talk to you?” This time he asked, therefore making it harder to avoid.

“Uh, I-In here?” You asked.

You couldn’t help but think he was here to tell you to stop being a creep. He wasn’t interested in you and would really appreciate it if you could stop with the creepy stares.

“Anywhere is fine,” he answers.

At those words, you move aside. Widening the door so that he can come in. The smell of vanilla hit you in the face as he walked past, and his eyes immediately began to observe your room.

Todoroki is in my room... what the actual fuck is going on!?

His hand comes up to point at your wall, “Did you draw those?”

Your eyes dart to the colorful art pinned to your wall.

“Y-Yes.”

The constant stuttering was making you loose your mind. But when your anxiety is this high you can’t manage to think straight. Not even one word can come out without a struggle.

“I like them.”

You swallow, hard. He probably heard it. The room was so quiet without one of you talking, unbearably quiet. Without words the only sound was the faint buzzing of your lamp you’d turned on only a few minutes ago.

“Oh, uh, Thanks,” a blush began to creep onto your face. Your hand came up to cover your face as you looked down. You knew you looked odd in the moment, but it was better than him seeing how much he can effect you so easily.

Todoroki looked at you with sweet eyes, although you couldn’t see them due to your current state. He thought you looked cute right now, all bashful. That’s something he has always liked about you. Your cheeks got red so easily when you were embarrassed, nervous, flustered, even when you were tired.

He noticed these things because you interested him, you always had. You were way too cute and sweet to not catch his attention. He just truly sucked when it came to talking to girls. Especially pretty girls like you.

“I, um,” this time it was Todoroki at a loss for words. He had a plan before he came in, but now as he stood in your room it was much harder to think clearly.

You looked up at him, his hand was raking through his hair. He seemed almost... nervous.

Why the hell would he be nervous?

“I was uh wondering if you, uh, would like to,” he took a deep breath to clear his mind. He was stuttering too much and overthinking, it was just a simple question he was trying to get out.

He locked eyes with you, “Would you like to go grab some food after school tomorrow?”

Your mouth fell open, but you quickly covered it with your hand. There was no way, no damn way.

“You mean, j-just me and you?” You asked, making sure you were interpretating this correctly.

“Yeah, Yeah,” He nervously laughs, “Like a uh, date.”

Like a what now?

There was absolutely no way this was real, you had to be dreaming.

“is this a joke?” You ask, but you meant to only think it.

His eyes widen and he quickly began waving his hands, “W-What? No, of course not! I really want to go on a date with you, I think it’d be fun. Plus you’re super sweet and pre-“ he stops himself.

C’mon man, you’re gonna scare her off by being too forward.

“Yeah, i’d really like that Todoroki,” your smile was surpressed by your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. At this point you wanted to jump for joy, but you didn’t want to scare this chance away.

“Okay cool, so after school. Tomorrow, you and me,” his nervous laugh comes back, “on a date.”

You can’t help but giggle, you’d never seen Todoroki so nervous before. Not in this way at least. It was one of the cutest things you’d ever seen.

“You got me after school Todoroki,” you giggled again, “You and me on a date.”

And with that, the two of you said your goodbyes, which were a little awkward considering the two of you kept letting nervous laughter slip.

As soon at the door shut, you let out a happy squeal. It didn’t even bother you that he might of heard it, you really didn’t care. You were so overjoyed that nothing could kill your mood.

On the other side of the door Todoroki had the geekiest smile on his face. He walked to his room completely satisfied. He did it, he finally asked the girl he liked on a date.

“Hell yeah,” he whispered to himself.

This definitely was heading in the right direction.

#todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #bnha todoroki #imagine #fanfic #anime #love #romance #x reader #todoroki shoto imagine #todoroki x reader #tordoroki imagine #tororoki fanfic #todoroki x y/n #tordoroki shoto x reader #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero x reader

202 notes · View notes

rebloged-content · 4 years

Text

Recommended Sanders Sides creators

Marry Christmas, everyone! And a wonderful December day to all of you who don’t celebrate Christmas, too. Let’s be honest right off the bat, though: I’m only using the date as an excuse to do this list anyways.

So. Throughout the time I’ve spent as a part of this wonderful corner of the sanders sides fandom over here on tumblr, I’ve often found a new creator and wished I’d found them sooner. It kind of makes me wonder who else I might miss. If you do to, here are a few creators I’d love for you to check out. You’ll probably recognize some of the names, if not all, but maybe you’ll find a new favorite creator here?

And to the creators in question, I really love your content. If you’ve made it onto this list, you’ve definitely cause one or two sleepless nights of reading for me, because who needs sleep if I can have this, right? XD Whatever you’ll find written next to your name is the impression you’ve left on me and… Well, just know that you’ve made some days of my life at least a little happier, all of you. And I hope to repay the favor by telling you how much I appreciate you releasing your content into this world… Well, repay the favor at least a little, I suppose.

Let’s begin, then, shall we?

@5am-the-foxing-hour Because this? This is who you go to if you want to read good Janus-content. You are in a mood to read sympathetic Janus? Wanna see the danger noodle just casually interact with other sides? Go to their short stories. I mean, “the cult”? Prime example of how to tell a story with impact in just a few words. 8 paragraphs, but boy did I read that one on repeat. Or “water spray bottle”, this one is fun, short and will make you laugh. An energy drink for the fander heart, so to say.

Then there’s their mafia-au, “there’s more in me than precious metals”. Six are out so far, and I adore every single word of every single part of this. Protective Remus, sassy Janus, angst, comedy relief, destruction, Roman-Remus-sibling-rivalry, braincell Logan, survival instinct Virgil, working together over a common enemy… This fic has it all, believe me. Take your time and read it, because you will read the entire thing in one go once you start. At least I did, and I didn’t even notice.

And their advent writings? Those had me squealing and jumping around in a way I will deny if anyone ever sees it. I don’t even know what else to say, they are fucking fantastic and that’s that.

So, yeah. Go check them out, before I start fangirling about them even more. You know my personal favorites now, so just go there. You won’t regret it.

Next up is @coconut-cluster. Ah, yes, Lexi. Lexi, whose uni-AU started as self indulgent and has become the loceit story on tumblr. We all know her, or at least most of us do, and we all love her too. And while I also drop everything I do at any point of time I possibly can once I realize the uni-au has any form of new addition, there are a lot of other fics created by her that you should check out as well.

Did you, for example, ever want a sappy prinxiety one-shot with the sappiness only being implied, a mutual understanding of “we’re-not-saying-we-care-but-we-both-know-we-do” born from joking reassurances and a not-a-date-nope-only-a-break? While that may seem to be a tall order, that is exactly what “before the sun goes down” is. Plus there’s ice cream. Or maybe you’re more of a logince fan? Do you want a fic where Roman isn’t the prince but serves His Highness? Do you like sincere talks while you’re procrastinating showing your face to the subjects you don’t really want to rule over? In that case, you really should read “Viva la Vida”. Careful, though, this one is so sweet you’ll probably get a toothache… There also is an analogical fic that I’ve enjoyed very much: “Cracks in the Ceiling”. I love it, because it’s just calm. Fears creeping up on you, thrown away by a trusted friend with a few words, just by being there and playing into the metaphors you head created this time around. It’s calm, and there’s not really a climax or anything, but it doesn’t need one. Because it’s just a glance into everyday life. It’s beautiful in its own right, really.

What I’m saying is, Lexi has a lot more wonderful stories to tell than the uni-au. It’s the most popular one, sure, and it’s one of her best works. But you really should check out her other fics as well. Lexi herself once said that she writs fics she’d like to read. I would figure it’s because of this, but her stories are mostly things you don’t really find anywhere else. Dynamics, stories, world building, all of those are aspects you may find somewhere else. But Lexi is just one of those people who see what they miss in a fandom and create it themselves, and among these creators Lexi is my favorite. She just has that certain skill that makes that approach to writing result in the most enjoyable reading experiences. Lexi’s fics are special, because they’re different, because they are authentic and you can feel that when you’re reading her work.

@djpurple3 is another talented individual I want to talk about. I have to confess, DJ is, as far as original content goes, almost exclusively locked in my brain with the fiction “I just keep loosing my beat”. 23 Chapters so far, one better than the last. It’s a bitter-sweet story following Remus and his children, after the bitch of a mother has been brought behind bars. Abusive piece of shit. Yeah, I don’t like her much. But the story is so full of love and support, everyone trying their best, everyone seeing how much the others deserve the world and wishing they could give it to them… Roman and Remus have a sibling-dynamic I would die for here, too. Patton is just the most adorable friend to Deceit - here Damion - Virgil is a precious bean, Logan is cute and the teacher we all wish he’d had ourselves and… god, I could keep gushing about this fic forever. I’ll stop now, though, before I’ll start spoiler things. Wouldn’t want to do that, especially since I really, really, really want more people to give this a go. It’s not underrated, I just think everyone who doesn’t is missing out by a lot, so… Go over there and read DJ’s fic right fucking now, if you haven’t already read it at least once. Thank you.

@delimeful, our wonderful lime-friend with a cute cat making a terrifying face in his header. First of all, there is the WIBAR universe, short for “Watch it burn and rust”. 5 chapters in act one, 4 intermissions (one of those with three chapters), one chapter of act two, as well as three extras and an au of this au called “the end of being alone”, and I’ve lost count of how many nights I spent reading those instead of sleeping like I should. (Or interacting with family. Or being productive. Or… It’s really a good story, okay?!) WIBAR is a deathworlder au. So a space au in which humans are regarded as dangerous deathworlders who can survive on a deathworld like earth. In other words, Virgil is the only human, and boy does that scare everyone around him. And the best part? You can feel the development, the shift in mentality regarding Virgil, feel the moment approach in which he isn’t a threat but a companion instead.

And, apart from the fic that inspired me enough to start writing “TINND!R?” over on my writing blog, there are a lot more amazing fics to read on lime’s blog. He wrote “How easy you are to need”, for example. It’s soft, it pulls at just the right heartstrings, it’s achingly hopeful and, god, the ending still has me in tears, even after the fifth - ? sixth? something among those lines - reread. This one’s a werewolf au, actually. Virgil is the werewolf, Logan, Patton and Roman are the humans.

Do you want yourself some of that pre-AA dynamic? I’d recommend “to taste your beating heart”. In this, Virgil gets separated from the rest of his group of vampire hunters and gets turned into a vampire himself, loosing his memories. And he’s “Anx” now, not “Virgil”, goddamnit! He isn’t their friend anymore, why don’t they understand that? Well, probably because they can still see Virgil’s old habits shining through. There’s a lot of tension, a lot of angst and a whole lot of frustration involved in this.

He also wrote some amazing one-shots. They’re mostly so well written that I’m almost sad not to be waiting on a continuation. There’s “the littlest mermaid”, in which Virgil goes to investigate a noise, finding a scared, tiny mermaid in need of help. In “community gardens” we have Remus being Remus, gaining the interest and friendship of the forest’s giant Logan. “Magical mutualism” tells the tale of a witch and a demon making a pact beneficial to both parties and opening the doors neither could have gone beyond alone. The way we’re all confused about our ships not actually having set sail yet comes to a hight in Virgil in regards to his friends in “amateur matchmakers”. And this is the point at witch I stop talking before I actually recommend every single one of lime’s fics instead of just my favorites as I had planed because I started to gush too much… XD

Let’s move on to @muppenthings. Mupp is an amazing artist and she created a giant mermaid au. There’s this one orca who’s just… We love her, but I actually don’t think she’s the brightest. I really, really love her, though. Virgil himself is being a little protective over his human friends and casually so. I love this comic series for the art style, but I also love the way it makes me crack a laugh at least once per work. Or appeal to my mother-instincts, if it’s about baby Virgil. Too cute for his own good, I tell ya! And the facial expressions! The detail, the jokes, everything about this is wonderful. You should at least take a look.

@whenisitenoughtrees. Cat got me with “This cup of yours tastes holy (This lie is dead)”. “A slow voice on a wave of phase” was next, later “Infinity and beyond”, “we are not alone in the dark with out demons” and “changing of the guard”. And then, suddenly, the night was over. I’ve read almost all of the fics in one go, and I’ve been semi-frequently visiting her master post ever since. When “There’s an endless road to rediscover” came out just a little while back, that lead to me re-reading through almost the entire list. I don’t regret it, my plans for that weekend would like to disagree.

These six fics I mentioned here are, by no means, the only ones I enjoyed. Those are just the ones I’ve found myself opening up again and again in sleepless nights. Those are the ones that pop up in my head and have me smiling to myself in the middle of god-knows-whatever-I’ve-been-doing-at-the-time.

Angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, you’ll find everything in that list. And something I’ve grown to like about Cat’s fics even more than anything else is the quick change between feeling perplexed, a startled laugh at certain wordings (you’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it) and apprehension. These fics will have you at the edge of you seat, swooping you away on an emotional roller coaster. And, god, the way Cat writes from Remus’ perspective? The introductions of her stories and the way she redirects to the main topic after going into detail on something? I saved a few paragraphs as screenshots on my phone because I love them and I want to read them again when I’m down. I just… Cat’s great.

Next up is @eliemo. Because Elias Virgil is the royalty of Virgil angst. From the touch-starved Virgil we’ve all had a head cannon of at one point in “Heart of Ice”, over ace Virgil panicking over telling his boyfriends that he his ace and didn’t think to tell them before in “Love our way” to so, so much more.

Mostly EV follows the story arc of an underlying feeling of dread at the beginning, which slowly grows into panic, exploding in a storm of angst and concludes in everyone, or at least whoever is around, coming to the rescue and helping to calm down, with the end being the hope for getting better in the future. They always manage to convey the confusion, fear or just the general thought process so well that you can’t help but get absorbed in the story. They know exactly what to say and what to leave between the lines to get the maximum effect. And, your heart will definitely be shattered after their angst. Still, the way the sides comfort each other and support each other so well every time is just… I love their stories, a lot.

I want to make two more suggestions if you want to check out this creator. A Janus angst fic, which can only be described as “ouch” you’ll find under the name “snake bite”. It hurts in the best way possible, because Janus gets the comfort he deserves.

The other suggestion gets a lot darker. It’s about Virgil having been abused by the “others” before he got accepted into the light side. The others are shocked to find out what has gone on behind their backs and they help Virgil in every way they can to recover. Of cause it’s a rocky path, though. This would be “Learned Behavior”. The series/au has twelve stories so far, one of which has two parts. You’ll find the master post for this pinned to the top on their blog.

If you like angst, you should also give @maybedefinitely404 a look. Ly has a soulmate-au going, in which they use the concept of “you hear the music your soulmate listens to”. "Music in my head” is a prinxiety fic, but the two of them have yet to meet. Four chapters and two mini-fics in. The reason I mentioned angst is because in this - spoiler alert for the first few chapters here - , Virgil gets put through conversion therapy. Luckily Janus and Logan are better foster parents than the ones who did that to him.

They also have a master list for all their soulmate stories, featuring different ships. Apparently they participated in soulmate month, if I understood that correctly. And to be honest, that was how I even found their account. I absolutely adore their anxceit fic, which takes place in a human au. It’s starting off pretty sad, but the bonding moments are absolutely wonderful. It’s a lovely story, and the ending is one of the best ones I’ve yet to read. Their logince fic took my breath away, too. A flower shop/tattoo artist au, and Logan is the tattoo artist. Stunning writing, wonderful world building, just the right amount of backstory to have everything make sense without overwhelming/drowning the reader in unnecessary details. Their moxceit fiction… Well, this one had me in tears within the first few paragraphs. It’s terrible and you feel for Janus, whose perspective this is written from. The ending, though… Gods! The ending was so indescribably cute. To be honest, all of the soulmate stories are great, these three are just my personal favorites.

Concerning their one shots, you’ll probably have to figure it out on your own concerning this. I haven’t been able to read all of them yet, as sad as that makes me. Definitely palling on doing it in the future, though. I did read two of them, though. “Pippity poppity” really was amusing, and I am so looking forward to the second part of “The Boy who sings next door”. The way they write the dynamics between the sides? I live for that.

Another creator I would like to recommend is @maybe-im-tired.They don’t have a master post, as far as I could see, but they only post their content anyways, so… “Can’t take my eyes off of you” is my favorite out of their fics so far. I mean, the way they managed to fit the sheer chaos that is intrulogical into this one short fic is amazing. And you could take about two thirds of what Remus said and put it up on your wall as out-of-contexts-quotes. Don’t worry, he says them out of context anyways, and they will definitely make you laugh.

The series of short stories for the human au that starts with “Glowing stars” is another au by them that you will almost certainly like. We have Logan and Virgil as kids (about 7 I think), Remus and Patton as single parents, Roman as the most adoring uncle, Emile as babysitter and Remy as his amazing partner. Remus is a great father, wonderfully chaotic as well. And a teacher! Imagine that, Remus as your teacher... He’s great with kids though, as long as they aren’t entitled villains come to make his precious Virgil feel bad, that is.

They also wrote a bunch of “random one shots”. They are all amazing, but my favorite has to be this one. It’s a logince one, once again human au. Patton may or may not tell his big brother’s crush about the feelings he wasn’t prepared to share yet. You know, as small kids do. It’s soft, it will make you smile as much as Logan does, and I love Remus in it. I generally like how they write Remus, okay? I know how much I’ve said it, but I’m not even exaggerating. They always write him differently, and all versions they write him as are so, so lovable and just… I wanna hug the life out of all Remus versions they wrote, okay? Take a look, you’ll know why.

Anyways. Let’s continue with @figurative-siren-song. This is the last account I’ve followed and I’m still sad about it having taken me this long to find them. Little salty, to be honest. (I’ll stick to they/them because they said just not to use she/her, and, well… consistency, you know? Don’t have much, so I have to get what I can XD). When I finally did find them, I went through their entire master list (at least all of the ships with characters I actually know. I’m kinda bad with the shorts characters, so I usually just… avoid them? Idk. Personal preference, I guess), and, well… I would honestly recommend every single fic on that list. They call themself “Repair Fluff King™️” and they deserve that title. But when they warn you that a fic will be angsty, it will be angsty.

I found them through the anxceit fic “A Deal”. Well, through an animatic by their friend on youtube that had linked the fic, but details. I’ve been reading this fic up and down again and again. It’s just so good! And when they talk in the second part and Janus explains why he proposed that deal. Or in the continuation, which i can’t talk about because I will probably spoiler things! So wholesome!

Also, their losleepxeity fic “We’re worth it”. So soft! The nicknames, the plot, the everything. It’s softer than clouds look, and we all know that means something.

But, really. Everyone will find something for them by this creator. So many ships, all incredibly well written, and soft and fluffy without getting boring in the slightest. It’s as energizing as coffee, actually. And, let’s be honest, this whole fandom drowns itself in angst most of the time. Take a break from that, repair your broken hearts with goof fluffy content that you’ll want to read over and over again. Go check this creator out. You will love them.

Last but not least… @myfriendsasthesides A blog by a creator who just takes the wonderfully chaotic dynamics of a friend group and using that to give us content of incorrect sides quotes. Maybe it doesn’t fit with me going on and on about fics here. I don’t care. Follow them and turn on those notifications, please, because seeing even one post of theirs on your dashboard will make your day. It’s funny, it’s absurd, it’s chaotic, it’s making you jealous of them for having friends like that. Believe me, you will want to see those posts. It’s just… the random shots of serotonin and dopamine out generation needs really fucking desperately 100% of the time.

That’s it with the list! Eleven creators I absolutely adore, and I’m sorry I was babbling so much all the way through, but… Well, actually I’m not sorry. And actually, half of the reason I even made this post is to tell them how much I love them and fangirl about them a bit. So… Yeah. Well.I love you guys and hope you’ll have a wonderful day! And to everyone else reading this: I hope this helped you ind some new creators you can enjoy. And a good day to you too, of cause.

Sincerely, Joy 🖤

(@joylessnightsky/@sanders-sides-fic)

#I hope it's okay to you I just went ahead and did this #if you don't feel comfortable with this or anything written in here feel free to let me know #also no I didn't check the spelling #I'm too tired to do that anyways #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #recommendations #list

114 notes · View notes

manikas-whims · 4 years

Text

A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.

A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.

Note:

I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.

This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.

Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.

Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥

Kaz

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”

And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.

With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.

“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.

Inej

Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.

Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.

Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.

“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”

“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”

“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”

“So…Suli huh?”

Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits, she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this.

A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.

When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.

She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.

“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.

Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”

“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”

Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”

He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”

“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.

He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I did!” she protests like a child falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”

“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”

Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.

“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.

She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?

“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.

She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”

He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”

“What about my..services?” she asks.

“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.

Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.

As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.

Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.

Hope it was enjoyable!

I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD

SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #kaz x inej #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kanej fanfiction

64 notes · View notes

harry-writings · 5 years

Text

Commitment

- the one where Y/n has commitment issues, until she meets Harry

Masterlist

Y/n has really bad commitment issues.

So much so, that she hasn't had a real, genuine boyfriend for as long as she —and her friends — can remember.

Sure, she's gone on multiple dates with the same guy, hooked up with them, even went as far as taking small getaway trips with her part-time almost lovers, but they were never relationships — never anything more than two people exclusively going out with each other whenever she didn't want to be on her own.

She doesn't ever purposefully start the game, but once it's being played, she has a full intention on finishing it. She enjoys the adventure and the freedom that comes with the what are we phase. It's the very moment that they ask if they could ever be anything more, however, that all of her interest is lost. She comes up with the same bullshit excuse every time — I'm sorry, but I just got out of a pretty nasty relationship, and I'm not entirely sure if I'm ready for that yet.

She always does end up feeling really bad about ending things, though, even though she doesn't show that kind of vulnerability to anybody but herself. It's screwed up and she knows it, but she just can't help it. There's always something that's not right — always something that's just not there.

Plus, where's the fun in relationships? All couples do is fight and argue and end up miserably bound together by law, anyways. That's all she's ever seen, all she's ever been around, and she doesn't want any part of it.

No obligations. No loyalty. No attachments. That's how she likes it.

Lonnie, however, not so much.

Lonnie is still healing from it all. He loves Y/n more than his heart can handle — so much so it physically hurts to look at her now, now that he's seen all of her and seen her in such a different way than he ever has before.

He thought it was different between them. He thought Y/n would be different, because all of the guys she brought home were new — ones she'd just met, ones she'd never had the chance to really know before becoming exclusive with them. But he had known Y/n for years, and maybe, that was all she needed — someone who she knew, that knew her, so she didn't have to be so afraid.

But fuck, did it really screw him over. Bad. Because he really, really, really thought it could work between them. He had done everything right — had done everything he was supposed to do — just to end up like every other guy on her list. And he really couldn't be mad at her, because he should have known better. If anything, he was mad at himself.

And he's even more mad at himself three months later, finding himself still thinking about her every single chance he gets. He's just breaking his own damn heart thinking it's something that could ever be, being stuck on a phase that only lasted a couple of weeks, but she's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on, and he couldn't imagine his heart being invested in anything or anybody else.

He could never tell Y/n, though, because even though she comes off as a real bitch, her heart is constantly hurting. And if she found out just how badly she had hurt Lonnie, she'd never be able to live with herself, and he couldn't, either.

Lonnie's about five shots in when Y/n and the rest of their friends walk into the bar.

Lonnie had been out drinking with his friend he had just met the other night. Harry was cool, and probably one of the easiest people to hold a conversation with. He had moved to town not too long ago and figured he'd make a great addition to the rest of his friend group.

Besides, it's been a while since any of them had made new friends. They've all grown up with the same people, and nobody else decides to move to a place like this — where the only places that are open past nine o'clock are a select couple of bars and a diner at the far end of town.

It'll be something different, and Harry seems like he'd fit into any crowd thrown at him.

When Lonnie's friends approach the pool table, half of them already seeming quite tipsy, Lonnie wastes no time to introduce Harry to everyone. He does it one by one, making sure he gets everybody's names, considering their friend group is quite large for a small town like this.

Harry's warm and welcoming to everyone he meets, which is no surprise to anybody. He seems grounded and humble — really put together for somebody who had made such a big move. Plus, Harry has always been good at first impressions.

Y/n is the last person Lonnie introduces Harry to.

"Harry, this is Y/n. And Y/n, this is Harry."

Neither of them knew it, but both of their hearts stopped beating.

Harry is the first to stick his hand out, however, with a smile so warm Y/n swears she can feel something flutter in her chest. "It's nice to meet you, Y/n."

She has never seen eyes so green, and hair so soft, and lips so full. His accent, too, is so smooth she swears she could bury herself in it if she could. What a man like Harry is doing in a place like this, she'll never understand.

She coughs a bit, pushing everything she felt down to the pit of her stomach before taking his hand in hers. "It's nice to meet you, too, Harry."

Y/n and Harry sit across from each other the rest of the night. She doesn't talk much, as usual, but even more so now that her head can't shut up about how good this Harry looks. She's really trying to keep her eyes off of him, but it’s just too damn hard when he keeps talking and talking and talking. He's getting along so well with everybody and she doesn't exactly know how to feel about it.

Especially with her best friend, Bentley, and it makes her want to rip her goddamn ears out of her head. They're both just so loud and laughing just a bit too much for her own sanity and she swears to fuck if she sees him look at her one more time she's going to -

"What about you, Y/n?"

And suddenly, the whole table has their eyes on her. She almost feels like she's been caught red handed, because she's barely stopped looking at Harry and they definitely took notice in her lingering gaze now that everybody's suddenly paying attention to her. And to make matters worse, she became so lost in her thoughts that she hasn't been paying attention to a word anybody has been saying.

She coughs awkwardly again, looking down at her lap pretending to adjust the end of her shirt.

"What about what?" She asks without a trace of emotion.

Harry giggles. "Do you have one? A boyfriend?"

God, please say no.

Normally, that kind of question doesn't faze her. Usually, she'll brush it off and answer as honestly as she could without seeming like a coldhearted bitch that doesn't believe in love (and it's not that she doesn't believe in love, she just doesn't believe in love for her — but nobody else could ever understand that, even if they tried). But when Harry asks, for some reason, it makes her nervous. And for a moment, she's at a loss as to what she could say.

She ends up shaking her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over her chest. "No. I haven't had one in a while, actually."

And Lonnie doesn't know why he does it - it could be the alcohol, it could be because he was so outrageously jealous that Y/n couldn't take her eyes off of Harry all night — but he fucks up… bad. Really bad. So bad that he genuinely feels like Y/n could never forgive him for it.

"In a while? Please, try ever. She wouldn't know what commitment was if it slapped her in the fucking face."

With just once sentence, for the first time tonight, nobody at the table had anything to say.

Y/n had such a mix of emotions she didn't know what to do with herself. A part of her wanted to cry, but she'd curse herself everyday for the rest of her life if she decided to be emotional in a room full of people. Another part of her wanted to scream, but that would mean drawing attention to herself and the situation, and that's the last thing she wants.

Really, if she had the choice, she'd disappear and forget entirely about her existence.

Rather, the only thing she does is look at Harry - who has his eyebrows raised in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape, gaze fixed on the table right before her. And just that alone makes her feel so humiliated. So disgusting and so horribly, horribly mortified to ever show her face to him ever again.

And Lonnie really is sorry. Fuck, there are no words to express how painful it is for him to see Y/n sitting in her seat looking so small, so helpless, with tears building in her eyes that she probably doesn't even realize are there — all because of him. All because the sight of her looking at anybody else other than him makes him want to rip his entire fucking heart out.

All she did was look at Harry, all night. It was killing him with every passing second. And he knows he shouldn't have made a fool out of her, especially in front of Harry, but he just wanted her to stop fucking looking at him.

"Y/n.." Lonnie whispers brokenly, "Love, I'm so sorry, I —"

Before Lonnie can finish his apology, Y/n stands up from her seat so fast her chair makes a god-awful noise against the hardwood floor. "I think I should go home now." She gulps, pathetically attempting to muster up everything built inside of her as she grabs her jacket from the back of her chair.

She refuses to make eye contact with anybody at the table as she makes her way to the door. She only makes it a couple of feet away from the table before she feels an all too familiar hand land on her shoulder.

"Y/n, please."

She rolls her eyes as she turns to face Lonnie, her hand reaching to push his hand off of her shoulder because there's nothing he can do to fix this, and she fucking hates being touched.

"You know what your problem is?!" Y/n snaps, making Lonnie's eyes widen at the unexpected outburst. "You just can't handle the fact that I don't have feelings for you! It kills you knowing that you can't be with me because I don't need you! I never did! I didn't before, I didn't when we were fucking, and I don't now! Maybe I wouldn't know what commitment was if it slapped me in the face because I don't need anybody but myself! And I certainly don't fucking need anybody like you to call my boyfriend!"

Her fists are at her sides and her face is as red as can be, nose flared as she takes deep breaths to hold herself back from saying something she doesn't mean. Because even though he stooped too fucking low with her, she'd never want to make him feel the way she's feeling in this very moment.

When her eyes drift away from his, she realizes that everyone at the bar is looking at them. And although this really was the last thing she wanted, she's so beyond hurt and angry that she doesn't even seem to care anymore.

She lets out a dry laugh. "Show's over. I'm fucking out of here."

She takes one last look at Lonnie before she turns her back towards him to make her way out the front door. And it isn't until the hit of the chilling air that she realizes two things: she has tears streaming down her face and she has absolutely no way of getting home.

Bentley was her ride here. But she was also everybody else's ride here, and since Y/n was the one who walked out, there's no way in hell she'd leave everybody else behind just because Lonnie decided to make a bitch out of her.

She kicks the side of the building, a loud "fuck!" falling past her lips as she stands and shivers in her place. She needs to call a cab but she needs to put herself back together before she dares makes herself known, which she feels like isn't going to happen for a while.

She's humiliated. She's hurt. She feels so small and stupid and all she wants is to go home.

She faces toward the street as loud, pitiful sobs leave her lips. She's got her face buried in her hands because she's too ashamed for the world to see it, as stupid as it sounds.

She just can't help but feel dirty, like she's something she's not. She's not somebody who just goes around, sleeping with guys and breaking their hearts because she likes it. And knowing that Lonnie feels that way about her, and made it known to the whole fucking bar, makes her feel like she's worth nothing.

Y/n's nearly done crying her goddamn eyes out when she feels yet another hand on her shoulder, but this time, it isn't familiar.

"Y/n."

She's quick to wipe the tears from her eyes before turning her head to where Harry is standing, with a small pout on his lips and regret in his eyes. "Hey, Harry." She smiles weakly, even though she's really, really embarrassed to face him after what happened. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

His heart is aching for her, seeing her this way. She's so misunderstood, he can physically feel it — how different she is from any other woman in the room. That's why he couldn't stand the idea of her walking away. She deserves someone who wants her, for her, and not because they want to change her to be somebody else.

And Lonnie especially doesn't deserve her. Fuck no. Not after the shit he just pulled back there. It was so wrong on so many more levels than one, and it breaks his heart that she feels the need to apologize for anything that happened tonight. All he wants to do is stay by her side for the rest of the night to make sure she's okay, and to be there for her if she isn't — since nobody else had come after her.

"No, Y/n. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you if you had a boyfriend. It wasn't right of me, and it wasn't any of my business. I had just noticed you weren't talking much, and I just wanted to include you, is all."

His fingers start to twist at the ends of her hair, and Y/n doesn't understand why it's not pissing her off the way it should — the way it would if it were anybody else. But there's something so calming about him, so alluring, and she hates the unfamiliarity of it.

She wants him off, yet her body does nothing to push him away.

Instead, she sighs, fluttering her eyes closed as she shakes her head. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. I didn't know, either — that Lonnie was going to make me seem like a total bitch." She presses her lips into a line. "Look… it's not that I don't want to commit to someone, it's just — it's not.."

Y/n huffs because she doesn't know what to say, she doesn't know if she can say it because it doesn't even make much sense, why she does the things she does. And she doesn't know why the hell she feels the need to explain herself for it, either.

"Hey," Harry whispers, his hands on both of her shoulders now. "We don't need to talk about this. How are you getting home?"

Y/n leans her back against the outside of the bar, looking down at her fingers playing with the ends of her hair, where Harry's just were. "Guess I'm not." She mumbles. "Bentley was my ride."

Harry pouts, his eyebrows creasing just trying to figure out how anybody could leave somebody like her, like this.

And it's clear she doesn't want to be here. She wouldn't have left if she did, and she would have gone back inside if she thought of any other way of getting home. But clearly, she's stuck on this sidewalk until she either finds somebody else to drive her, or until she musters enough energy to just walk it.

But he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight knowing he left her by herself, and he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight not knowing if she's going to be okay. Because as weird as it sounds, he already cares more about her than he's cared about anybody in a while.

"Look, why don't I drive you home, yeah? I don't want you to go back in there like this, but I don't want to leave you out here alone, either. 'Sides, it's the least I could do for you right now."

Y/n should have never accepted Harry to drive her home.

What a stupid, stupid, stupid mistake. What was she, a maniac? A goddamn lunatic? Because now it's three days after meeting Harry at the bar and he's all she can think about. Because he fell asleep next to her that night, all coddled in his arms, and she hasn't been able to sleep the same since.

She never minded sleeping alone. In fact, she preferred it that way, she always has. She liked having the space, the solitude. She hated sleeping next to somebody else because they were always all over her, and all she wanted to do was breathe without somebody else breathing down her neck.

But Harry… Harry was different. He was warm, his touches so soft she almost didn't even feel him there. But he was, the whole night, and Y/n didn't want him to leave the next morning.

Of course, she didn't tell him that. She didn't mention them sleeping together at all, actually. But that's all she wanted to talk about, to everyone. She had half the mind to call Bentley the next morning and tell her everything that happened with Harry, but she knew that if she did, it would have been made such a bigger deal than it was. Because it was just sleeping together, right?

But it's three days later and Y/n just can't stop thinking about how good he felt beside her.

And now she's laying in her bed, desperate, like a pathetic little girl without her teddy bear. And all she wants to do is call the number he had given her that night and beg him to coddle her back to sleep. But how the hell is she going to ask him so late at night, when they haven't spoken to each other since?

Little does she know that Harry feels the same way.

Sleeping next to Y/n was probably the most comforting feeling he's had in a while. She fit into him so perfectly, filled in all the gaps so that there was absolutely no space between them, and let him hold her to him through all the hours of the night.

She's unlike anybody he's ever met — the way she smiles, the sound of her laugh, the feeling of her skin against him — it was all so intoxicating and addicting. Not a single part of him wanted to let go, no matter how stupid it was of him to feel that way after just one night of meeting.

But could he have helped it? Probably not. Because it felt so right, even though it was so wrong. And with each night that passed by since, he prayed she'd ask him to spend another night with her. Because how could he ever sleep the same after sleeping with her, when it felt so good?

That's why when he got a text from an unfamiliar number at 11:42 saying, "Hey, Harry. It's Y/n. Would you want to stay the night again?", his heart nearly stops beating.

This is everything he's been waiting for, for the past 72 hours and he almost doesn't believe his eyes. How could she even ask if it's something he wanted? Sleeping beside her again was everything he needed right now, and more.

Not even caring if it seems desperate, Harry is quick to reply. "It's like you've read my mind. I'll be there soon, love."

He wastes no time to get together everything he needs. And it's not even like he needs much, but he doesn't know how long she wants him to stay and he needs to be fully prepared for anything she has in mind.

He slips on his shoes before making his way out the door. And most of the time, whenever he's driving somewhere new in an unfamiliar place, it takes his brain a couple of moments to remember exactly where he needs to go. But when it comes to Y/n's apartment, he doesn't need anything.

He knows exactly where he's going the moment he's behind the wheel. What makes it even better is that she doesn't live too far from him, either, so by the time he gets to her place, it's barely past midnight.

Somewhere along the way, Y/n had answered him telling him that she had left her front door unlocked, so he didn't have to bother knocking. Which is exactly what he does.

He opens her front door softly, creeping in as quietly as he can before shutting and locking the door behind him. He slips off his shoes before making his way to her bedroom.

When he opens the door to her room, Y/n is laying on her side with her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her face. And Harry's heart melts at the sight of it, because she looks so damn cute and inviting and his arms are practically twitching at the thought of holding her again.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Is the first thing she says, and Harry looks at her in wonder. "I couldn't sleep."

Without you.

He places his overnight bag silently on the floor beside her door, his eyes not once breaking away from her. He walks over to his side of the bed with a small smile on his face as Y/n lifts the duvet up for him to crawl in beside her.

He lays with his chest against her back as his arms find their way around her torso. They both move closer together, adjusting their limbs, until they find a position that's just as comfortable as they remember. "It's okay, love," he whispers against her ear, his thumbs rubbing against her skin, "I couldn't either."

For the first couple of minutes, they lay there in silence, embracing each other and the moment because they've missed it for so long, and they want to soak it all up until Harry needs to leave in the morning - something they both can't fathom to think about.

And when he leaves, will he come back to her? Will he text her whenever his day is done and ask to spend the rest of it with her, on her tiny bed, with his arms exactly where they are now?

Y/n hates that she cares so much, but she does. She cares a bit too much. She doesn't want to spend another god-awful night alone, towns away from Harry, when he could be here, with her. Even if all it is, is sleeping with each other, she wants it every single night and she doesn't want it to stop.

"Why did you do it?"

She doesn't mean to ask, but it comes out anyways. She whispers it, so lightly Harry almost misses it. But he could never miss a word she says, no matter what.

"Why did I do what, darling?"

Despite practically melting where she is, Y/n rolls over until she's looking directly into Harry's eyes. And she silently prays he doesn't hear her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

He's so perfect, it physically hurts her. Everything about him is beyond anything she could have ever imagined. He just doesn't make sense to her. She feels everything else in this world is out to do harm — out to hurt her, out to play with her emotions, push her over the edge — but not Harry.

For the first time in her life, she feels like she's finally found something good. And she doesn't know what to do now that she has.

Her fingers run along the nape of his neck.

"Why did you sleep with me that night? You didn't know me."

If Harry didn't know any better, he'd think she's only asking because she didn't want it — because it was too soon, because it was too far, because it wasn't her. But when he sees the look in her eyes, like it was something she couldn't believe, he knows it's so much deeper than that.

"I know I didn't know you, but I wanted to try."

He runs his fingers along the sides of her face, rubbing softly at her temples, and Y/n's eyes shutter closed at the warmth of it.

"I didn't want you to spend the night alone, and I didn't want to spend the night with anybody else."

Y/n hums, her eyes still closed as she pushes her face further against Harry's skin.

It's so unlike her, to be this close and comfortable with somebody. But she can't hold herself back. Her body just keeps gravitating towards him and she feels like she has no control. No matter how far she is from him, or how long they go without speaking to one another, she found a way to be with him again.

She has a feeling it won't be the last time she does so.

"Did you not want me to? Did you not enjoy it?"

The last thing Harry could have wanted out of this was to push her too far. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, or make her feel obligated to carry it on. And although he feels in his heart that that's not the case, he wants to make sure. Because out of all the things he's screwed up, he doesn't want to make this one of them.

The question alone makes her heart break.

He's pouting and he has a look on his face like her answer could make or break him. And the first thing she thinks about doing is kissing away his doubts and telling him that if she truly didn't enjoy it, she would have never reached out to him for another night of it. But she can't, she really, really can't, because that's too much.

Instead, she places the pads of her fingers against his cheek and rubbing her thumb against the corner of his mouth.

She swears she can feel her fingertips tingle as she does so.

"Are you serious, Harry?" She whispers, looking at him in bewilderment. "You're all I've been thinking about since that night. How could I — how could it not have been special to me?"

His heart is swelling. He can feel it, everywhere — how different they are together.

And god, he really doesn't want to think about all that he's heard about her commitment issues because he doesn't want to get hurt - not by her. All he wants is to protect her and cuddle her and kiss her and tell her that she deserves so much more than she's ever been given.

But he's terrified she won't let him, and he's terrified that she will let him just to move onto somebody else that could do all that for her, too. But they could never do it like him.

Y/n knows it, too. She knows she's never felt this way about somebody, and she knows she never will again.

They spend the rest of the night holding each other, noses touching, hands wandering, and sleeping without letting each other go.

Harry's spent every night with her since.

It's been three weeks now, all still fresh and new, but they feel like they've known each other forever.

Y/n has dinner ready upon his every arrival — a new dish every night, a glass of wine, and a small dessert picked from the local bakery. And once all the food is finished and the wine starts to settle in, they talk at her kitchen table for hours.

What they enjoy most is that there's never a dull moment between them. No matter what the topic of conversation is, or how many times they've talked about it, they're always finding a way to make each other laugh. Whether it's through Harry's shitty, god-awful jokes, or Y/n's dry humor, they make the most out of each and every night they spend together.

And once their jaws start to get tight and their eyes get heavy, they crawl into her bed and tangle between each other even closer than the night before.

And it's so perfect. Everything about it makes sense and feels right, but there's only one problem that seems to be getting in the way of it all.

Nobody knows.

It's killing the both of them, really. Because when they're not together, they're all each other can think about and all they want to talk about. But Y/n can't find the courage to tell any of her friends because she knows she'd never hear the end of it, and Harry can't tell anybody, either, because her friends are now his friends and he could never do anything to make her uncomfortable.

But it's hard, and it gets harder every night they're with their friends.

It's hard for Harry, because he genuinely believes Y/n is his other half. There was always apart of him that felt incomplete — lost, almost — and the only person to have ever made him feel so whole was Y/n. And he just wants to show her off, all proud, and call her his for as long as she'll have him for.

And it's especially hard for Y/n, considering she feels empty without being beside him. And he's the only person she ever wants to talk to, no matter where she is or who she's with, all she ever wants is Harry. And her skin aches whenever it’s not touching his.

And it's even harder for her, now, when a woman is blatantly making eyes at him from across the bar.

She couldn't be making it more obvious even if she tried. And to make it worse, Harry is completely oblivious to it. He's talking to everyone at the table, as he usually is, sitting right beside Y/n, and he has no idea there's another woman desperately trying to get his attention.

It's driving her fucking crazy. She doesn't even know what to do with herself, and she doesn't even know if there's anything she can do other than watch somebody else drooling over her Harry, imagining her Harry in ways only Y/n should imagine him, begging her Harry for something he can only give Y/n.

Her heart is racing, her blood boiling, teeth grinding and she has half the fucking mind to just grab Harry's face and smash his lips against hers in front of this whole fucking bar just to show who he belongs to and -

"Baby," Harry whispers against her ear, bringing Y/n back from whatever the hell just took over her, "you're squeezin' a bit too tight, don't you think?"

Her head snaps in his direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she watches Harry smirk at her, an amused look in his eye and she genuinely has no idea what he's trying to say.

Without waiting for her to reply, Harry's eyes divert to his hand that's been laying on her knee the whole night, and when Y/n follows his direction, she notices her hand is wrapped tightly around his. So tight, in fact, that her knuckles are white and the ends of Harry's fingers are much more red than usual.

And Y/n doesn't know what to say for herself. She's never reached for his hand — she's never done anything with Harry besides sleep beside him. That's all it ever was - sleeping together - until now.

Until she finds herself grabbing ahold of his hand whenever she gets jealous. Until she does get jealous, over somebody that isn't even hers. Until the thought of Harry being with another girl makes her want to pistol aim her fist into a wall.

Until this very moment, when she realizes she loves Harry.

She doesn't know much about love — if anything, at all — but if she could imagine it to be anything, it'd be this.

An addiction. A drug. A feeling so strong, there are no real words to explain it.

A skip in your heart. A kaleidoscope of butterflies in your stomach. A feeling so true, everything else seems like a deception. Except your lover.

And that's when every wall she's ever built around herself begins to crumble — when everything she's been holding back comes to the surface so hard, her whole body grows numb.

The amused smirk is wiped off of Harry's face as soon as he sees the state of her.

She's pale, her eyes wide, still looking at their intertwined hands with tears falling silently from her eyes.

Harry is quick to bring his other hand to her cheek, wiping away the wetness because he knows she wouldn't want anybody else to see her this way.

"Baby, what the hell?" He whispers to her, letting go of her hand to place it against the small of her back. "Why are you crying? Did I do somethin' wrong?"

She's hyperventilating in the midst of a full-blown panic attack and she swears if she doesn't get out of here within the next five seconds, she's going to collapse. And at this point, she isn't so sure if being around Harry is going to make it better or worse.

If she is around Harry, she's going to be reminded of everything she's never believed in and everything she hasn't prepared herself for. But if she isn’t around Harry, she's going to miss him and feel even worse than she does now.

She just doesn't know what to do. She doesn't even know how to breathe. It's all just so much, so scary and intimidating and too fucking much.

She can't love Harry. She can't love anybody. She can't. She can't fall in love just to watch it all fall apart. She can't love Harry just to lose him, just to hurt him, just to have her end up alone.

She just can't do it.

"Harry." She sobs, lips twitching and voice thick.

Out of all the times she's ever ended something, this is proving to be the hardest one yet. She could never imagine herself truly ending things with Harry, it just doesn't feel right to do so. He's hers, whether he knows it or not or whether the world knows it or not, Harry is hers.

Harry is hers to hold, to cuddle with, to hold hands with whenever she needs reassurance. Harry is her secret, her little baby to keep in her pocket at all times.

She just can't love him. She can't.

He has a look on his face like he knows what's about to come. He's heard all about it — the games she plays, the cycle of her relationships, all doomed for disaster. He's been around her friends long enough to know that Y/n doesn't commit, Y/n doesn't fall in love, Y/n doesn't need anybody but herself.

But it's all so wrong. It's been right, and it's been true, until now.

And if he could just understand that she's only doing this because running away is all she knows how to do, then maybe, he'll find it in his heart to come back to her.

She just needs time.

"Y/n, please don't." He croaks out, nearly begs, so shamelessly and helplessly.

By now, the entire table is silent and watching the disaster this night has turned into. All in shock, all unknowing of everything that has lead to this very moment.

All because of her.

He never imagined it'd get here. He really didn't think Y/n would up and leave like she did everyone else. And it’s not that he wanted her to change who she was, or adjust herself to fit perfectly into Harry's love life, he just really thought she felt it, too.

He thought it was different. Because of the way she looks at him. Because she absentmindedly grabs ahold of his hand and completely forgets that she's even doing it. Because she hasn't spent a night without him in a while. Because in her sleep, she mumbles things she'd never say to him when he's awake.

And he can't just fucking lose her. He can't. He doesn't ever want to go back home. He doesn't ever want to look for something he can only find in Y/n in another woman. He doesn't ever want to spend a night, alone, without her ever fucking again.

He loves her and he wants to continue to love her, and he wants to love her until he falls in love with her and can finally make her his.

How did he ever let it get here?

"I'm so sorry." She sobs again. "I just — I can't do this right now."

It's three hours later and Y/n can't shake the feeling of regret from inside of her.

It wasn't fair — what she did — and she knows it. Because Harry deserves so much better than to be left like he meant absolutely nothing to her. When in reality, he was her everything, and it was killing her from the inside out not knowing how to cope with it.

To love Harry the way she does is dangerous for her, because it gets to her head. It consumes her, so much so that everything else around her seems completely meaningless. And that's the problem — that's why she ran away, because if she lets it get any deeper than that — any harder than that - she's going to be so completely lost whenever he's not around.

All her life, all she had ever needed was herself. Now, all she needs is Harry.

How the hell is that not supposed to scare her?

But it wasn't until two and a half hours of feeling cold in her bed, reaching for a Harry that wasn't beside her, and crying to his favorite song, did she realize something else.

She can't live without him.

Harry is worth it. He's worth all the fears, all the risks — he's worth every ounce of doubt inside of her because that's what love is.

It's terrifying. It's soul-shaking. It's a fall without an air catcher. It’s holding their hand so that they don't have to face the world alone. It’s accepting all the bad, all the good, all the flaws that come along with them. It's being by their side no matter how hard it becomes.

And if Y/n is willing to sacrifice herself for anybody, it's Harry.

Which is why she's here — hopelessly standing outside of Harry's apartment door at two in the morning.

Her hands are shaking, her tongue is tied, and her brain is scrambling with the million and one things she wants to tell him whenever he opens the door. If she has to get on her knees and beg, sob, offer her own fucking blood, then she will — if that's what it takes.

She knocks on his door as quietly as she can, praying to God it’s loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough to piss him off. She knows how important sleep is to him, and if she does something else to ruin his night, she'll never find it in her heart to forgive herself.

It only takes about thirty seconds for Harry to open the door.

He's shirtless, sweatpants clad loosely around his legs, hair all disheveled — just how she loves him most.

"Y/n?" He asks in disbelief.

"Harry," Y/n breathes out, her tense shoulders slumping down as she can physically feel all of the weight come off of them. "I really need to talk to you."

She gently pushes past his shoulders, her body making its way to his bedroom, and that's when his blood runs cold.

He flings his body haphazardly beside hers, his hands quick to grab ahold of her shoulders in hopes to keep her in her place. He's panicking and he needs to come up with something, fast. He needs to get her out of this damn, stupid apartment as fast as he can before anything else gets screwed up.

"You know what, Y/n?" Harry pants, his hands scrambling to push her back towards the door from where she's standing, "we don't have to do this right now, yeah? You go and get some rest and we can talk about it in the morning. Just go home, right now. Go home and we can figure this all out before -"

"But you don't understand, Harry!" Y/n whines, her hands fighting back with his because why the fuck is he pushing her away so much? Why the hell is he trying so hard to kick her out when all she wants to do is tell him how sorry he is and how much she loves him? "I really, really need to talk to you! And you can't push me away like I pushed you away, I won't let it!"

She manages to escape from Harry's desperate hands, a small huff leaving her nose as she walks past him again.

And Harry knows he stands no chance. Harry knows that he just made this — everything — so much fucking worse and there's nothing he can do to change it. He's on the verge of sobbing, hitting his hands against his knees — on the verge of entirely breaking down the second he sees her hand reach for his bedroom door.

And what she sees when she opens it leaves her brokenhearted for the first time in her entire life.

There, sleeping softly upon Harry's bed, is a woman.

And not just any woman. It's the same woman who was making eyes at him at the bar not just four hours ago — the same woman that made Y/n realize she loves Harry, the same woman that she was oh, so jealous of, the same woman that's been making her sick to her stomach all night.

Her clothes are thrown across the floor, upon the bed — just everywhere — mocking and laughing at Y/n for ever letting herself feel the way she does.

Y/n is frozen still and Harry is watching it all happen, with pitiful tears falling from his eyes. And he knows there's nothing he can do, or say, to fix the mess he's made.

But he tries anyways. Fuck, does he try because it was just a stupid, drunken mistake. It was a stupid mistake fueled by heartbreak — a mistake he made under the belief that Y/n didn't want him the way he wanted her, and he didn't know how to cope with it.

Whoever the fuck she is, she's no Y/n. She's absolutely nothing other than a regret, but Y/n doesn't know that. And he isn't so sure if Y/n would ever believe it.

He breaks the agonizing silence with a sob. A sob so broken, so hoarse, it makes Y/n flinch.

"Baby —”

But before he could even begin his pathetic apology, Y/n's walks out on him the second time tonight.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles preferences #one direction #one direction fanfiction #one direction one shots #one direction imagines

1K notes · View notes

itsmyara · 3 years

Text

Playing Cards (SFW Fanfic)

Pairing: Chrollo/Machi (yep!)

Word Count: 1.7 k

Warning: Hisoka acting psycho.

Note: I've recently talked about Kuromachi with @takkarulz and it reminded me of this VERY old fic. It was supposed to be the first chapter of a story about Hisoka's first mission with the Troupe but I don't think I'm gonna continue it. Oh, and it was originally written in Portuguese, so maybe something got lost in translation. I hope not but sorry if it did!

The prey was aware of the bloodlust that emanated from his pores. Hisoka was bored when he felt that random aura and left in pursuit. Granted, it wasn’t a strong aura, but the relative abstinence made him lower his criteria. Any less-than-a-minute fight would offer some relief. The prey was already running ahead, looking back at him now and then in despair. He was sweating, breathing heavily, tripping over his own feet. It was a shame. Even so, the predator felt that in that aura there was an impulse to try to fight back, a courage that could spring from adrenaline and give him some precious extra time to live.

He focused entirely on instilling fear in him, as a favor to awaken that trace of hidden strength, and as a favor for his own sadism.

Fear and death roamed the desolate streets at night, accompanied only by concrete walls, garbage cans overturned by mangy dogs, and abandoned souls, drunken and empty, who wouldn’t dare to approach the source of that terrifying bloodlust.

Hisoka's expression was already inhuman.

The victim turned a corner, looked around, started to run faster. Perhaps he was close to home and struggled to reach it, with that false feeling that at home he would be safe. Poor fool. The predator licked his lips, he wouldn’t allow the prey to gain distance from him. In fact, he didn’t intend to let him free for too long.

Thirsty for action, Hisoka dashed and jumped to reach him faster but when he was in mid-air, something stopped his body, suspending it far from the ground, and a third presence was revealed. A woman fell gracefully in front of him and as soon as her feet touched the ground, her hands pulled a thread, making him realize that the trap had tightened around his body.

The pink-haired woman boldly stepped between him and his victim, and when she looked up and glared at him, her blue eyes were unfazed by his bloodlust. The victim stopped for a moment to try to understand what had happened, but he wasn't stupid enough to stay.

Soon it was only he and her.

Hisoka smiled and sought a comfortable position within her trap. It was worth exchanging the weak prey for that woman who either mastered zetsu very well or knew how to take advantage of his distraction to catch him. Either way, she was incomparably stronger.

“Well, well... and who are you?” His voice sounded mischievous as his eyes sparkled, studying her carefully.

She kept him in her threads without difficulty, as they crossed the deserted street trapped to the side of two buildings, forming a web that closed around him in the center. A spider web. She was skilled and agile to prepare that engineering in such a short time. Besides this, she also had that delightful demeanor. So under control. So cold. So full of an unshakable self-confidence. It wasn’t someone to be thrown away. Maybe he would keep her to play with, little by little, instead of killing her at once.

“I have a message from the boss,” when she said those words, Hisoka understood and closed his eyes. He definitely would have to save her for later. “Midnight at the sanctuary of St. Levi. If you’re too busy hunting mice, you will suffer the consequences.”

A crooked smile grew on the magician's face. Suffering the consequences was what he wanted the most, but not in the way they used to apply them.

“Will the boss be there?” He asked, but his question was ignored.

“I think you can get out of there alone.”

It was the last thing she said before disappearing into the night.

There was a possibility that Chrollo would attend the meeting, but there was also the possibility that it would end up being just another spiders’ meeting that would kill him with boredom at once. He had recently joined the Phantom Troupe for a single purpose, and so far he had successfully avoided childish robberies and meaningless missions, no matter who showed up to try to intimidate him.

An Ace of Hearts took shape between his fingers and he used it to slash the tangled threads that held him. To his surprise, not all of them broke on the first blow, demanding one or two more hits for him to break free completely.

He thought that maybe this time it would be worth it to show up at the meeting if she were there.

***

Their current hideout was a mansion away from the city and with a reputation for being haunted. The abandonment of the building made it cold and fragile, but there was a certain beauty in all those aged memories left by the corners, and in the way nature was taking over the place little by little. In a few years, the creeping plants will probably take it over completely.

Machi entered through the backdoor absolutely quietly, just in case. Soon she realized that there was someone in the basement and she walked down the stairs, equally silent, to find Chrollo sitting on an old wooden chest. By candlelight, he analyzed something on a table in front of him.

“Fascinating... whoever lived here, was someone impressive. It is not by chance that this house has a reputation for being haunted,” he whispered when she approached but kept his gray eyes fixed on the objects spread on the table.

In that room, Machi noticed opaque crystals, rusty metal objects that were supposed to serve very specific uses, animal skulls with horns, and some books so old and yellow that she thought they would turn to dust if she looked at them for too long. She stood next to the boss and realized that what captured his attention were cards, similar to a playing deck, but more numerous and richly illustrated even though -- like everything in that basement -- they were in dull colors.

“Did these objects serve any ritualistic purpose? They must be flooded with nen,” the energy of the place was somewhat obscure, and she thought that maybe this is why he felt comfortable there.

“I haven’t found any trace of nen in this basement,” he said, causing a brief expression of surprise in her. Fascinating, really.

Chrollo finally looked at her, his expression calm and pleasant. His eyes were more mysterious and dark than the energy of the place. By far more fascinating. Eyes that caused her the same feeling, again and again, after so many years.

Perhaps because she was so close that he could feel that commotion inside of her, or perhaps because he was feeling comfortable in that environment, he placed one hand on her waist, while the other held some cards.

“Sit here with me, as we used to do when I read to you,” he said, invoking the past and leading her gently so that she sat on his right thigh.

The memory stirred the feelings inside her even more. She was so young when she found him, a beautiful, intelligent and kind boy, as young as she was, who talked to her, played with her, and cared for her. Chrollo was always different from everyone else. He had ended up awakening in her still innocent heart that dream that he was a prince charming and that they would marry someday, even marriage being such an abstract concept in Meteor City. It turned out that the commitment she had made to him was far greater than that of a marriage.

Enjoying the moment, she rested her arm around his shoulders and studied the cards ahead more closely now.

“Are these tarot cards?” She asked, vaguely recognizing a couple of drawings.

“Yes, it’s the most valuable thing I’ve found here. The style is so unique, each card is a work of art by itself.”

Her eyes met an Arcana and she leaned over to pick it up, almost instinctively. The Fool, with his extravagant clothes and gestures, looking at the horizon from the edge of the abyss, projecting himself to it with nothing to hold him back -- from the infinite fall or from the flight to the horizon. Her intuition led her to believe it would be the first option.

“How was it with him?” Chrollo asked, noticing the card she was looking at so attentively.

“He's strong, I ended up having to set a trap with more aura than I've expected,” she replied almost automatically, only managing to return the card at the end of the sentence.

“He wouldn't have listened to you any other way.”

"No," she confirmed, and then they looked at each other. “The decision is yours, danchou, but I wouldn’t trust him.”

“This is why you didn't bring him here. You’ve decided to wait until tomorrow.”

Chrollo hadn’t told her to take Hisoka to him, he had left the option in the hands of her interpretation. Since the magician was one of them, he belonged -- in theory -- to that place with them, and it would have been natural for her to invite him. But it wasn’t.

Machi knew that sometimes Chrollo let her interpret his orders because he trusted her judgment. And in addition to not having taken him to the boss, she also left promptly so as not to be followed.

“You have been more receptive to new members before,” he said softly.

And the fact that he pulled her to him gently to place a kiss on her temple softened his speech even more.

“Sorry, he seemed to have a special interest in you,” she spoke in a slightly serious tone. Intuition. Concern.

Something that made him snicker as his free hand touched her hair.

“Don’t worry too much, Machi.”

That was the end of the subject brought up by the card. Soon he would touch her thigh and his hand would roam her body. Soon he would show her how comfortable he felt, to the point of allowing himself to enjoy the tenderness that Machi dedicated to him right from her lips, her skin, and her embrace.

#kuromachi #chrollo #machi #hisoka #chrollo lucilfer #machi komachine #machi komacine #hisoka morrow #chrollo x machi #machi hxh #chrollo hxh #myarawrites

32 notes · View notes

andorlorian · 4 years

Text

okay so I do have an anakin fix it au floating around in my brain in which revenge of the sith goes as well as it possibly could BUT that's not the important part of this post the IMPORTANT part is what happens to maul in this au. (disclaimer: all I know about maul's backstory is from watching the clone wars and reading his wookiepedia page so some of this might be inaccurate. bear with me)

okay so because order 66 didn't happen, maul is brought before the council. he was sith so the council would want to deal with him personally

I think with palpatine dead (fully and completely 100% dead no take backs) the influence of the dark side everywhere would be lessened. everyone would feel a lot clearer, happier, brighter, like a dark cloud had been lifted from their mind. this would include maul.

however, for maul, diving deep into the dark side has been something of a coping mechanism. amassing as much power as possible and giving yourself over to this dark higher power means you don't have the contemplate the fact that you were stolen from your family and home world and fed incredibly damaging rhetoric from the man who 1) let you die 2) immediately upon finding out you were still alive electrocuted the fuck out of you and killed the last part of your family and (imo) the only person you ever truly loved

so maul upon arriving to the jedi council, while slightly less affected by the dark side, is still full of pure rage, hate, and a clusterfuck of other emotions brought about by thinking about the jedi. he's a whole disaster

okay this is going to get very very long I'm going to put a read more here

I imagine some in the council would like to kill or exile him and be done with it, but after the inherent trauma of the clone wars and seeing how far separated from their ideals the jedi order has become, they'd show him mercy. this part may not necessarily make 100% sense but shut up this is the good things for maul au maul gets good things

therefore, the council would vote in favor of rehabilitation. what I imagine this would look like is maul would be heavily guarded and watched, and whenever possible he would be visited by jedi masters (and masters ONLY. they're not dumb)

maul gets his own quarters, which are big enough not to be stifling or tiny but small enough to still fit in a jedi temple where they value austerity and forsaking possessions. they would want to give maul as much freedom as possible while making sure he couldn't be a threat to anyone around him, which would mean he doesn't have much freedom at all. he's fed and watered and visited by at least one jedi master a day. these visits are usually someone meditating and trying to rehabilitate maul's mind while not being openly invading, rather guiding maul's broken mind into its natural state and removing palpatine's influence. these visits are also good old fashioned therapy (maul desperately needs to talk some shit out)

it would take a very very very long time but with guided meditation and constant consistent kindness and understanding shown to him by the jedi maul would start to heal. one of the major things that palpatine forcibly shoved into his brain is a distrust and particular hatred for the jedi, but after spending so many years in their care and with constant (almost annoying) understanding that belief system would start to break down.

it would start small. like one day maybe instead of feeling rage and anger around savage's death he feels sadness because for the first time he's in an environment where he has the space to breathe and remember his brother

I think once maul has actually started to improve a little bit and moved past his rage and murder phase that's when obi-wan would visit him. which would definitely bring back some rage and murder but also it would bring maul some closure. I'd imagine they'd both need some sort of closure, considering maul killed qui gon and obi-wan essentially killed him. but obi-wan saying something like "I forgive you. I'm not your enemy." that might throw a wrench into maul's thinking

so over time, maul is becoming less and less emotionally tumultuous. he's in a stable environment in which a set group of people visit him daily solely for the purpose of rehabilitating him, both through the force and just regular conversation as equals. eventually, after enough time in this environment, whoever maul is beneath the rage and pain and the dark side would emerge

this is the side of maul that I wrote this for. this is why he's one of my favorites.

maul is deeply intelligent, and rather calculating. while he usually forgoes rational thought to scream "kenOBIIIIIII" into the night he's very good at assessing a situation and how to get the best possible outcome. he feels things very deeply but he's incredibly bad at naming exactly what his feelings are and he's not very good at reading the emotions of others. I think a flaw of his is that he really forgets to take emotions into account, while for the jedi that's kind of their whole thing. (yeah the jedi are stereotyped as unfeeling warriors but that's not true at all, they acknowledge and release their feelings into the force. for them their feelings are the force.)

I think one day when maul is beyond resisting his existence at the jedi temple, when he slowly realizes "hey my life sucks a whole lot less than before" he manages to actually solve a problem for one of the masters who visits him regularly and has become the closest thing he can really have to a friend. said master (maybe kit fisto just because I like kit fisto) rants about a problem or a mission that they're having and maul just goes "well it's obvious, really." and manages to solve the problem like that by nature of his unique perspective.

and after a looong amount of time has passed, maul's role shifts from enemy, victim, and a patient to being a voice of rationality, a problem-solver, and someone to rant to when the whole jedi master thing gets to be A Lot™

seriously though I cannot stress how long it would take for maul to heal and get to this point. MINIMUM five years.

eventually maul and some people he's forged friendships with petition the council to allow him to have some more freedom. while extremely hesitant, without palps clouding their vision they could much more clearly see maul's mental state and what sort of danger he would pose to the jedi, and they would let him move freely about the temple

okay here's my favorite part of this whole thing. maul is a fucking nerd. he discovers the jedi library and goes insane. maul would read so many books about so many different things because he's interested in everything and he'd want to build his knowledge in a myriad of subjects. he would spend hours upon hours in the jedi library just reading every single thing in there. he'd beg one of the masters to let him access the "forbidden knowledge" just because it's knowledge and he wants it. and if that didn't work he'd find a way to break in (the forbidden knowledge did not disappoint).

I also think maul would love to spar with lightsabers and stuff. he'd know techniques the jedi wouldn't, and so in friendly spars with people he'd managed to befriend, he'd actually give them a fight and teach them something, while also learning new techniques from the jedi

I think maul would consider becoming a jedi for a brief second. he's happier here than he's probably ever been, finally free from palpatine's influence and in a healthy environment. but he knows it's not his path.

after spending a long time living at the jedi temple, having carved out something of a life for himself, made friends for the first time in his life, having finally achieved emotional stability, he approaches the order on his own. they expect, after having been long used to his presence, for him to ask to be a jedi. but he comes with an unexpected proposal.

maul asks to leave the jedi temple to go home to dathomir, to see what had become of his family and of the nightbrothers. he's much much more stable than he was, but he still has burning questions that palpatine would never have let him find the answers to. and he genuinely does want to get there, eventually. but he also wants to learn more about the force that the jedi wouldn't teach him, to learn more about the sith.

his departure is surprisingly more emotional than he was expecting. the jedi temple was the first place he'd ever actually felt safe, that he'd been allowed to just exist. he would miss it.

armed with all the knowledge in the jedi temple, he searches for knowledge the jedi wouldn't have access to. he finds the remains of mortis, and researches the mortis gods. he spends a period of time wandering around like batman crushing the people he doesn't particularly like (usually people objectively morally horrible. he spent years with the jedi he has ✨morals✨ now). he even made his way to ilum, and found two crystals to forge a new double-bladed lightsaber. (the blades are yellow.)

maul would also study ancient sith texts, and spend a lot of time investigating old sith temples (like the one on malachor). however, he doesn't have the same burning desire to seize the power for himself anymore. it's an odd feeling.

eventually he does return home to dathomir to find the genocide of the nightsisters (with only one nightsister, merrin, remaining) and the nightbrothers in disarray after the loss of the dictatorial government they'd lived under for generations. maul ends up taking over a la mandalore (but with a lot less murder and awfulness. ✨morals✨)

what I'd love to see is maul founding an opposite sort of order to the jedi. not necessarily the sith, since the sith treated him horribly and destroyed his entire life, but i think maul would believe that for the force to truly be in balance, you couldn't try to eradicate an entire half of it from the galaxy. I would love to see maul found an order of dark side force users that teaches about how to use the dark side, how to avoid total corruption, and the correct channels for the power you control.

maul would be a very effective teacher in the dark side because of how much experience he has with it. he experienced the absolute worst of the dark side, the total corruption and loss of self, but he also used the dark side to save the nightbrothers from destroying themselves after the loss of the nightsisters and used his power to keep them together and safe (not to mention the period of time with Batman Maul where he used the dark side to help people).

also I would love to see the new generation of jedi and the new generation of dark side users not to be in opposition for once. by nature of maul being rehabilitated by the jedi, he would teach about them and their teachings with a modicum of respect, and the two orders would be seen as two sides of the same coin. twins, almost.

maul would not be a child snatcher, he was child snatched. the dark side is different from the light in that its always there. it comes much more naturally to force users, and unlike the jedi, it wouldn't require you to join from a ridiculously young age. his order is always known and always open to any force user who wishes to learn about the force.

maul's life comes to an end peacefully, at his home on dathomir, having built a new society for the nightbrothers and a new order for users of the dark side.

#word count: 1.9k #holy wow i did not know i had that many words in me about maul #here's my good things for maul au #in which order 66 did not happen #maul #revenge of the sith #the prequels #the clone wars #star wars #darth maul #jedi #sith #meta #ryn dot text #good things for maul au #ryn dot fic

40 notes · View notes

florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Note

prompt: buck hears eddie talking about him over the car's bluetooth speaker (or the other way around!)

sang so loud, sang so clear on AO3 (2.4k)

It was safe to say that there was no part of his job that Eddie didn’t like. He loved being part of the community. He loved being able to make a positive change in the worst moments of someone’s life. Hell, he loved helping people in general, and that stretched far beyond the ‘call of duty’; so it was no surprise that when Bobby announced a series of fundraisers that the LAFD were participating in, Eddie was probably the only person who didn’t groan in defeat when Station 6 got to host a carnival while the 118 got stuck with a car wash.

He was excited because it was for charity. Not because it meant he got to have an entire weekend free from fire, free to spend some more time with his kid. That wasn’t it at all.

It also wasn’t because he got to spend some more time with Buck, outside of an assortment of burning buildings. That definitely wasn’t it—because despite what Carla said (and what Abuela said, and what Pepa said, and the looks that Hen shot him) he was an adult who had control over himself and had his...emotions regarding Buck under control.

It wasn’t a crush. He was fine. The fact that he had to go through the Starbucks line again after he got Buck’s order to get his own coffee was purely coincidental.

“Dad, can we play my music?”

“Sure, buddy.”

Eddie idly switched through the radio controls on his truck as he pulled onto the highway, smiling at his son in the rear view mirror as Chris pulled out his phone, working with the accessibility controls easily. The device was still pretty new, and Chris was still getting the hang of it, but after the tsunami Eddie would have bought him one phone for each hand if it meant he would know his son was safe at all times. Paranoia aside, Chris had been elated at cataloguing his life whenever he could—they already had digital albums full of Chris and his school friends, his family, and the things he got to do with Carla while Eddie was stuck at work.

Normally on days like today, Carla would have swung by and picked Chris up from the house, but it was easy enough to push that back an hour or so and have her pick Chris up right from the firehouse when he had all but begged to come in to the 118 and say hi to the team.

And hell, if Eddie got his kid to kick up the cuteness near their tip jar? Eddie wouldn’t complain about that, either.

One of Chris’ favorite albums had wrapped to a close when Eddie pulled off the highway, turning down the volume as they started to approach the 118. The morning was still pretty young, but it looked like they already had a pretty good turnout lined up—there were cars wrapped around the station building, in various stages of drying, with a line pretty steadily moving through the main engine bay. It looked like Bobby had moved the trucks out toward the street for added publicity, meaning the entire floor of the station was filled with cars, suds, and pop-ish music (no doubt, courtesy of Chim).

“Eddie, don’t tell me you actually expect us to wash your truck.” Chim snarked from the stairs, his LAFD tee shirt covered in colorful suds and sticking to his skin, and Eddie only smirked as he shoved a twenty into the donation jar. “Come on now, I’m a paying customer! Are you telling me that you’re gonna turn away someone for a charity drive?”

“No, he isn’t. Eddie, here, gimme the keys.” Eddie beamed as he heard Buck’s voice behind him, sticking his tongue out at Chim in a very mature, grown up way as he helped Chris out of the truck. Reaching back into the drivers seat, he pulled the second coffee out of the holder, the iced drink matching his own save for Buck’s added pumps of sugar—and almost keeled over when he turned around.

Look, if there was one thing that Eddie Diaz knew, it was that life was not fair.

His two tours weren’t fair. His son’s CP wasn’t fair. His marriage with Sharon hadn’t been fair.

But pulling up to the 118, stepping out of his truck, and coming face to face with Buck? Buck, who was clad only in his turnout pants and suspenders, who was dripping wet?

Well, that wasn’t just unfair, that was mean.

“See, Chim, this is why the Diaz’s are my favorite. You gotta step up, man, Eddie brought me my favorite coffee and my favorite Chris.”

Buck was thankfully oblivious as Eddie short circuited, bending down to high five Chris, his face brightening when he saw the second coffee in Eddie’s hands. He pulled the coffee and the keys out of Eddie’s shockingly limp grip, turning to Chim triumphantly as Eddie tried to gather his thoughts. His thoughts, which currently needed gathering, because they were tracing the path a drop of water made as it glided along Buck’s shoulder blades, trailed along to the edge of his torso, resting on a hip that Eddie would very much like to bite, thank you, and—

“Buck, I’ll be giving you an actual niece or nephew! That has to rank better than coffee!”

“Well, first of all, Maddie will be giving me an actual niece or nephew. Second of all…”

Eddie pulled himself back to realist as Buck and Chim started to bicker, eyes suddenly desperate to look anywhere else before he got distracted again. “Hey, uh, I’m going to set Chris up upstairs, we’ll be down in a second.”

He wasn’t sure if he was more thankful for the easy out or for the distance that he got to put between himself and a half naked Buck, but Eddie was nothing if he wasn’t an idiot—so even as he helped Chris set up some papers around the table at the loft, he still found himself peeking over the railing whenever Buck laughed, or shouted, or did anything that could draw Eddie’s attention away from the here and now as he sipped his coffee.

One of his little dalliances must have taken a little longer than before, because he honestly couldn’t telly ou how much time had passed before he heard Chris speak up.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie felt his head snap up, his face instantly bright red as he almost choked on his iced coffee. He gasped as he saw Chris hiding behind his cell phone, immediately breaking out into giggles as he pointed his camera back and forth from Eddie to where Buck stood in the engine bay. He was quiet enough, thank fuck, so Eddie didn’t have to do any immediate damage control—just had to save face, doing so with an exaggerated flourish as he easily closed the space between he and Chris, picking his son up playfully with one arm as the other snagged his phone from his hand.

“The lies! The deceit! Betrayed by my own son!”

“Daddy, nooo!”

Eddie found himself laughing as he flopped down on to one of the overstuffed couches in the loft, grinning like a fool as Chris wriggled beside him, his phone still secure in Eddie’s hand, out of Chris’ reach.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie blinked, looking up as he heard Chris’ words repeated, eyes looking at the loop now playing on his phone. It was a Snapchat—one of the few social apps Eddie allowed on Chris’ phone, after Chris had more or less taught him how to use it (and had promised to send Eddie a few selfies throughout the day).

Chris had done the courtesy of zooming on Buck, bending over to scrub at the rims on Eddie’s truck, and then the camera swung back to Eddie, who... missed his own mouth with his straw, several times, trying to sip from his coffee.

Alright, maybe his crush wasn’t as under control as he thought it was.

“Dad’s got a crush on Buck, Dad’s got a crush on Buck...”

Eddie frowned as his ears twinged, suddenly aware that the sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, the looping audio echoing up to the loft. He put his head next to the phone, trying to tell—were the speakers broken? Was something jammed in a port or whatever?

He turned the volume up, frowning, a little disappointed. He had told Chris how important it was to take care of this things, and if his phone had already been dropped or broken, he would have to—

“DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK, DAD’S GOT A CRUSH ON BUCK...”

—he would have to crawl into a hole and die, because that sound wasn’t coming from Chris’ phone, it was coming from Eddie’s truck. Eddie’s truck, which was powered on, and still connected to Chris’ phone from their music this morning.

Eddie’s truck, which thanks to his own idiocy had every speaker blasting, and had a bright red Buck bent over the hood—frozen, like Eddie seemed to be, his face unreadable as he stared up at Eddie in the loft up above the bay. Eddie felt his body go numb as Chris finally stole his phone back, the sound thankfully stopping as he locked his phone.

“Oh fuck.”

“Ooh, you owe a dollar to Carla’s swear jar.”

“There’s my number one guy! Chris, how’re you doing?”

Eddie managed to successfully avoid everyone for the better part of an hour—it was easy enough to do, considering they still had a line out the door of people waiting to get their cars scrubbed down by the 118. He felt a small moment of dread spike through his heart as Carla managed to seek them out—he would have a zero chance of hiding if he didn’t have his ‘son-shield’ up.

Eddie managed a small smile as Carla ruffled Chris’ hair, clearing his throat. “Hey, Carla, you brought your van today right?”

“Sure did, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. I just need to lie down behind your rear wheels so you can put me out of your misery before you leave.”

“... uh huh.” Carla rose her brow as Chris shoved his papers and markers into his backpack, looking at Eddie in a way that was almost pitying. “Daddy accidentally megaphoned his crush on Buck to the entire station, so he’s been hiding upstairs and helping me draw instead of helping with charities.”

Well, that was one way to put it, though Eddie would have preferred a way that made him feel less of a dick. He winced as he nodded his head, clearing his throat as Carla’s eyes widened. “And that’s why Daddy has to go throw himself into traffic.”

“Well, I would prefer it if you didn’t.” Eddie felt his entire body tense as he heard Buck behind him, only managing a weak wave as Carla whisked Chris off down the stairs—his protests of “but Carla, I wanna listen!” making Eddie go even redder.

At the very least, he wasn’t alone in that boat. Buck was an absolutely delightful shade of pink, and Eddie was fucking distraught to learn that Buck’s blush went all the way down to his chest, because for some reason the other man still hadn’t put on a shirt. Normally, Eddie would have been delighted to see that, but after having his feelings so publicly (even if intentionally) put on blast, all that he wanted was to be swallowed up by the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’d make sure Chim had to scrape me off the pavement, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” Eddie said, his humor landing a little dark—Buck didn’t laugh, but his smile did grow, and Eddie counted that as a win as he sighed. “Look, Buck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird and I don’t want to—“

“Oh, Eddie, I’m not here to talk about that, I just wanted to get your help scrubbing on the floor.”

Oh. The car wash, right. Eddie felt his stomach drop as he swallowed, processing what Buck had said, nodding his head. Buck wanted to look past it, pretend it hadn’t happened. That was... fine. Eddie hitched a smile onto his face, nodding his head as he looked down the floor, finding the tie of his own boots fascinating. “Yeah, no, you’re right. Sorry I was putting it off, I’ll grab some towels and I can—“

“Actually, you should start washing up with me. I was thinking we could make a bet out of it.”

Eddie looked back up, curiosity outweighing all the weight in his stomach as he tilted his head, trying to get a read on Buck—even if all he could see was that delicious blush, trailing down Buck’s neck and fucking Christ, across his chest. “A bet? Buck, I don’t know if—”

“Whoever gets the most tips has to pay for dinner... tonight? After we’ve dried off?”

Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Buck cut him off again, his brain trying to work a mile a minute as he caught up with what Buck had said.

Because if he didn’t know any better, if sounded like Buck was asking him out on a date.

“Buck, you... you? Me, when... you really... when I...”

“Eddie, will you please just say yes? I was going to ask you an hour ago, but you’ve been hiding very unsuccessfully from me.”

Buck was asking him out to dinner. Buck was asking, him, Eddie Diaz, out to dinner, after Eddie all but humiliated himself. Buck had been waiting since that moment to ask Eddie out to dinner. Oh this, this he could certainly work with.

“So… dinner, huh? You’re on. But if you’re going to be working in just your turnouts, so am I.”

Yeah, he could work with that. And two could play at this game.

(If Carla was laughing when Eddie explained their little bet over the phone later, she was all but howling when Eddie admitted he won, asking if she could watch Chris for a few more hours and for recommendations as to where he could take Buck on their first date—even as Chris shouted “good luck, dad!” over the phone.)

#buddie #911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #chris diaz #fluff #flospeaks #floanswers #hearteyesforbuck #carwash #a carwash fic in which NOTHING gets washed #ha!

107 notes · View notes

fandom-necromancer · 4 years

Text

‘You come here often?’ ‘Well I work here.’ Part 4

This was prompted by the lovely AO3 user LoafofCat! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Read complete on AO3]

‘You know, if you just wanted to see me, there would be easier ways.’ ‘Bold of you to assume I come here only to see you.’ Nines smiled looking up to Gavin, who was just untying his apron and sitting down in front of him with a coffee of his own. ‘Am I wrong then?’, the human asked and Nines huffed, letting his head fall. ‘No’, he admitted. ‘Okay, so let me get this right’, Gavin laughed. ‘I had to propose to my boss to get thirium drinks on the menu as a “costumer asked for it” and it might help us crank those numbers up, just so you could plant your ass here in your break?’ ‘It did get you more costumers though’, Nines shrugged pointing to the other tables. ‘That’s not- Nines, do you think I care about this shop? I just work here; I don’t care if… You know what? Screw it. Nice to see you, Nines.’ ‘Nice to see you too’, the android chuckled. ‘How are you?’ ‘Can’t complain. What do you have there?’

Nines looked down on the tablet in his hands. ‘Oh, just work. A case.’ ‘You are on your break and brought work?’, Gavin asked, looking at him sceptically. ‘Tina was right, you really are me just with a little less personality.’ ‘Being nice and polite doesn’t mean not having a personality. You were just an asshole.’ ‘What technically is a personality trait’, Gavin argued, taking a sip from his coffee. ‘Now come on, tell me about your case!’ Nines frowned. ‘I really can’t tell you, it’s-‘ ‘Confidential, I get it. But come on, I’m a former cop I can keep a secret. For old time’s sake.’ The android eyed Gavin and how he looked so eager to get information. It was cute in a way, how he looked in between his eyes and the tablet in his hands. Maybe that’s why Nines showed weakness and caved in.

‘Okay, but you really keep this to yourself. We are investigating a series of murders. They don’t have anything in common in regard to victims or how the deed was done or staged, but at every crime-scene we found the picture of this man.’ Nines flipped through the pictures of the different crime-scenes until he reached a few portraits. They weren’t really the kind of pictures you would expect of a cold-blooded serial-killer. Not after the few flashes of gruesome staging, Gavin caught a glimpse of as Nines had searched for these. They all portrayed a middle-aged man with a small belly you could easily get if you worked long hours in the office and were too exhausted afterwards to do sports. The pictures looked like they were ripped right out of a family photo-album. The guy was at the beach smiling at the camera with a cocktail in hand. The next one showed him in what Gavin supposed to be his home with a small dog on his lap. Then next to a ridiculously oversized barbeque grill all shiny chrome and reds.

Gavin lifted a brow at Nines. ‘Yeah, sorry Nines, but no way this is your killer.’ ‘I ruled it out as unlikely, too’, the android nodded. ‘Although you can never know with people. At the very least it’s a lead. Maybe the killer knows this man. As much as this is a lead, it is also our only link.’ Gavin shrugged, leaning back. ‘Well, why haven’t you solved it then? I mean, you can scan his face and get a name, age, address, likely even social media as creepy as they designed you and Connor. No offense there.’ Nines sighed. ‘As creepy as I might be designed, my scanner has its limits too. I can’t get a name to this man, not even an age. Scanning him just returns an error. Manual research in the police databanks also hasn’t brought up anything yet. We also can’t exactly go around asking for this man. If he is the serial killer, as unlikely as it might seem, we would only alert him.’ Gavin nodded absent-mindedly, staring at the photo, pulling the tablet closer to zoom in on some details. ‘Honestly?’, Nines said frustratedly. ‘We’re all currently waiting for the forensics to find more evidence on the bodies. It’s quite frustrating, but at the same time no one really minds if I spend a bit longer on my break with you.’

Gavin couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated ‘Awww’ at that, Nines reprimanded with an annoyed but amused look. ‘Nah, really thanks, looking at your tablet for what, ten minutes? This was already more exciting than the whole damn month. The most action I had was a drunk guy I had to escort out because everyone else was too chicken shit to risk getting vomited on.’ ‘Understandable.’ ‘Not the point. I mean, I’m happy here, I guess. It is decent money and I have more time for my cats at home. Also, maybe not being confronted with what humans are capable of is nice for a while. But I can basically feel my brain rot here.’ ‘That is also understandable’, Nines huffed. ‘Maybe search for some outside work activity? Something new to learn and keep you active mentally?’ ‘Like what? Knitting?’ ‘If you want that?’ ‘You know what? Maybe not the worst idea. I’ll see if I can find anything and when I have I will-‘

Nines never got to find out what Gavin would do afterwards, as his colleagues called him, pointing at the growing queue. The human sighed. ‘Well, my call to duty’, he announced and walked over to press a quick kiss to the android’s temple. ‘Was nice chatting with you, babe. Good luck with your case.’ ‘Yeah, you too.’

It was a slow Tuesday, without many costumers coming in. The rush of office workers in their break had already stormed the small shop and rushed back to their workplace and now it was mostly a few students and the regular old granny circle in the front judging people and eating cake. Living the life. Gavin had already washed the entire stack of mugs twice now and was out of work, except for manipulating the radio until his co-workers began to wonder why the last song had been so long and found him messing with the system. Then he walked around, collecting discarded newspapers and cleaning the tables while his co-worker told him she would be out for a cigarette. He nodded and continued working until a sole costumer entered. Gavin quickly rubbed the table dry and hurried over, throwing the man an extra smile just in case he wanted to complain about having to wait a few seconds. ‘What can I do for you?’ ‘I’d like a coffee, please. Medium, to go with cream but no sugar.’ ‘Coming right up.’ Gavin was already going through the motions of preparing the coffee and turned around to hand it over. ‘Anything else…’ He trailed off, as he saw the man’s face, but he seemingly hadn’t noticed his slip. ‘No, thank you, that would be all.’

Gavin watched him leave again and was trying to decide what to do next. He couldn’t just leave; he was at work after all. But he couldn’t do nothing either. Frantically he looked through the shop and, in the end, shook his head, rushing past the counter. Outside his co-worker stopped him. ‘Gavin? What are you doing?’ Gavin blinked, but came up with an excuse fast enough: ‘Dude forgot his wallet. Can you take over for a moment? Sorry!’ ‘Sure, no problem. Just hurry, he’s already behind the corner.’

Gavin did hurry. But not to run after the man, but to pull out his phone. ‘Nines? Yes, hi babe I know you are at work, shut up, this is work. Li-Listen, yes. Shut up for just a second! I’m pursuing your office killer. Ye-Yes, exactly, the beach holiday photo model with the ugliest dog I’ve seen in my life. Now will you phcking get your ass here? I will pursue him you can track my phone. Wh- come on, it can’t be that dangerous, I’m still well trained now stop worrying and move your ass!’

He had become louder than he wanted and had caused the man he wanted to follow inconspicuously to turn around. He wasn’t really unsuspicious though, dressed in the silly coffee-shop apron and shouting at someone on the phone. Trying to play it down, Gavin instead tried the open approach: ‘Hey, you forgot your wallet!’ It only caused the man to bolt. So much for being a friendly, costumer-orientated employee. Gavin pushed it all to hell, lifting up his apron and running after the man. So, he did had dirt on him. Gavin followed him down the street and used a streetlight to take the corner with more speed. A mistake he later would regret as he ran face first into a fist that definitely wasn’t human. Seeing stars, he looked up from where he had fallen against the building. The chubby man was surprisingly agile and fast, unfitting to his overall completely average looks. And Gavin saw why: The skin where the man had punched him had retracted to show stern white underneath. The man was an android? Where the hell did he get all these modifications from? Cyberlife had designed all androids to be phcking inhuman models. But maybe that had been the plan. Being as inconspicuous as possible. Remembering the brief flashes of crime-scenes that made him pale. Oh no.

‘How the hell did some barista recognise me, huh?’, the android asked, holding Gavin by the throat, his toes barely touching the ground. ‘You are all over the news!’, Gavin tried. ‘I’m not. None of my doings have even been published yet.’ ‘Well, I was a cop once.’ ‘Were you? Well, who is your contact then? If you were a cop once.’ Gavin really hoped someone would turn the corner and see this to help him. Because the way the android’s hand clenched around his throat, lack of oxygen could soon be his least concern. ‘My boyfriend, okay? But I will never tell you his name!’ ‘Your boyfriend? Alright, thank you. After I killed you, I will go to him next. See if I can’t keep this information from spreading.

The pressure on his throat became almost unbearable, as Gavin saw a flash of white behind the man. ‘I highly doubt that’, Nines voice sounded through the alley and Gavin could see the gun aimed at his head. ‘Now let him down and go.’ The android in front of Gavin cursed, but complied. ‘You are arrested for the suspected murder of three people, as well as the attempted murder of this man. Turn around, hands behind your back.’ Nines handcuffed him, reading him his rights before making the call to the station to send a car.

‘Gavin, that was extremely reckless of you.’ ‘Hey, I got your killer, right?’, Gavin croaked with a cocky grin while rubbing his throat. ‘I solved a case you would have waited weeks on before even getting close to the guy.’ ‘Oh, please, I’m the most advanced android there is. I would have gotten him.’ ‘Yeah, but it was the ex-detective they threw out to replace with you that caught him in the end. Please, rub that into Fowler’s face for me, would you?’ ‘I most certainly won’t’, Nines stated. ‘I will emphasize your involvement in this case though, what at least should keep your employer off your ass.’ ‘Oh, what would I do without you?’ The android in Nines grip struggled against him, causing Nines to return his attention to him. ‘Urgh, get a room, you two!’ ‘Excellent idea actually. Gavin, how about after our shifts ended, we meet at my place? You know? To celebrate.’ ‘Oh, I’d love to’, Gavin grinned and winked the RK900.

The captive criminal got a glimpse of the gesture and regretted it deeply. ‘Oh, please, just kill me, would you?’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed

23 notes · View notes

gabby297 · 3 years

Text

Saudade - Chapter 2

|| Prologue || ||Chapter 1 ||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 10k

Helmut followed in some sort of a daze, not focusing on the turns that they took as they made their way to Selby's office, barely seeing the money that was piled up on the tables and the armed men that stood guard on seemingly every corner. No, his mind was miles away, trying to comprehend what he heard mere minutes ago.

"What the hell, man?" Sam hissed right by his ear as he overtook James. "You almost blew us."

"Apologies." Was all that he could muster up to say, looking straight ahead. What else could he really say? That for the briefest moment he thought he heard Nic's voice? That if he shut down the logical side of his brain even for a second, he would admit that's how he'd imagine she would sound like now? That he, not even seeing a woman's face fully, picked her as an example of how his girl would look like? Maybe being locked up for few years with nothing but books and solidarity brought him closer to insanity than he liked to admit.

Helmut barely heard Le Petit Homme by Edith Piaf playing over the speakers as they finally approached Selby's office. The woman in front of them turned back. Her brown eyes landed on him for the briefest second and knocked the air out of his lungs once again. Was this a trick of some sort? Power Broker trying to get under his skin, render him useless? Helmut doubted that he would care enough to go to such lengths, but there had to be an explanation. Sure, he knew that theoretically there were around seven people in the world who could look similar to Nic, but his gut instinct was sending him red signals. That this was too much of a coincidence for him to cross paths with a lookalike, in Madripoor of all places, the one time that he was looking for information himself. No, something was wrong here. He couldn't get distracted, couldn't let some lowlife distract him with the face of the dead. He spent most of his life trusting his instinct. The one time that he didn't, he spent days digging through the rocks of a collapsed building.

The woman took a couple of steps behind him, attacking his nose with a sharp, earthy scent that had just a tiniest floral undertone, and stopped in front of Sam. She invaded his space, leaving no distance between them. Helmut followed her actions with his eyes, noticing that James straightened up and he shook his head lightly in a warning. There were too many eyes watching them. She reached for Sam's neck and Helmut was nearly certain that James would lash out. He could tell by the way that he was clenching the prosthetic arm, that the man was considering it. Whatever they thought she'd do, they didn't expect for her to simply unbutton the top button and straighten his collar.

"Are you really going to make me wait for my own guests, Nic?" Selby's sweet voice almost made him jump up in surprise. He clenched his hands in the pockets of the coat, wrapping his fingers around the hard handle of the ka-bar knife he still had in his possession from the army days. A coincidence. Nicoletta, or any similar version of it, was simply a popular name. It wasn't his Nic. Definitely not the girl he buried years ago. Just one big, fat coincidence. He was even prepared to entertain the idea of it being a futile attempt by someone to distract him. In his mind, he knew that. He only needed to convince his heart that hadn't stopped racing from the moment she spoke.

"Of course not." Her voice rang out, making him inhale sharply. She ran her fingers through the suit jacket and with a smirk moved in front again. Right. There was no time for mistakes.

Nic moved out of the way, allowing Helmut to cast his eyes on Selby. She had her back turned to them, sitting comfortably on one of the couches. A power move. She was not threatened by their presence. Not that he could blame her, there were four security guards in the room alone, all holding assault rifles. No doubt more were ready to barge in at a second's notice.

"You should know, Baron. People don't just come into my bar and make demands." Selby said as she tapped her fingers against the couch. Helmut gave her a tight-lipped smile and a small nod as he moved to sit down in front of her. Two of the men stood by the wall beside them while James and Sam moved in to stand on either end of the couches.

"Not a demand. An offer." He elaborated, getting comfortable on the couch. He crossed his legs, his foot landing on the edge of the short table that was in front of him. He noticed a couple of bags lying on the table with a clear powder and a Grand Power K100 semi-automatic pistol within a hand's reach, positioned in a way that she could easily grab it. It was a cat and mouse game. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Nic walked over to the table behind Selby's couch and turned her back on them.

"A lot has changed since you were here last." She took a glance at James before turning back to him. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

A lot of things might have changed during the years, but he could tell that she did not. All sweet and smiles, hoping that he would fall into the false sense of security that she loved to provide. That he'd spill his secrets or slip up and give a reason for her to doubt his intentions for the visit.

"People like us always find a way, don't we?" Helmut dodged her question raising his hands in a shrug. The more that he could get away with leading her in circles, the better. "I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."

His smile faltered ever so slightly as Nic came back in the view, moving past James to sit down on the couch. She had taken off her mask. He blinked twice to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks with him. Sure he had moments during his imprisonment, in the dead of night where he had nothing but his own mind to keep him company. Moments where he could almost imagine Ivana's soft touch against his face and see his children in a flash between one moment and the next. If he concentrated enough, he could've heard their voices. But this was different. This was too real to be a figment of his imagination, no matter how vivid it could be. Whoever she was, she looked identical to his Nic.

He bit inside his cheek, irritating his mouth even more as Nic planted herself beside Selby and mimicked her pose. It was so much harder to keep his composure when she was right in front of him, watching his every move with those same shade of brown eyes that Ivana had.

With her sitting opposite of him, he had a chance to take a closer look at her. The chopped off blonde hair barely reached her shoulders. Unlike the majority of the people in the bar, she did not wear makeup or attire suitable for such a place. Instead, she wore a pair of jeans, a high collared crop top, and a rust-colored leather jacket with a hood.

Swallowing he looked back at Selby, determined to keep his attention to her. He was after the information that she had, he needed to concentrate on that. Not on the hypotheticals.

"So many people with offers and deals these days." She grinned, moving her hand to rest on Nic's shoulder. "Like this one. Promised to look over the bar for a good sum and yet did nothing but drink while your friend had fun trashing it. I feel cheated really."

"The agreement was for me to look over the bar. Not to fight for it. There's a difference…I think." Nic deadpanned but didn't move to get the hand off her. Helmut could feel her gaze burning holes in his skin. He readjusted his pose ever so slightly, hoping to get rid of the feeling entirely if he moved a couple of muscles. It didn't work.

"Funny thing aren't you." Selby chuckled and leaned to grab one of the small packets off the table. "Be a dear and make yourself useful. Our friends in Azimut are offering a share for B163.9. I think they're blowing smoke up my eyes but I was in a good mood that day. Tell me what you think."

Helmut clenched his jaw and shared a glance with James. The longer they stayed, the more difficult it would become to maintain their cover. The opening snap of the bag brought everyone's attention back to Nic. She shifted in her seat, pulling a key out of her pocket.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what she would do next. Helmut cleared his throat and picked different points of interest to look at around the office. He resisted the urge to shift more in his seat or start tapping his fingers. Whatever the young woman was, his stomach rebelled at the thought of watching her snort the powder. Her appearance alone was too close for him to clearly draw the line and separate the two girls. It didn't matter that his Nic would never reach the age this woman in front of him was, would never end up in a sleazy office in Madripoor, snorting God knows what. It didn't stop his blood from freezing in place and a massive pit forming in his stomach.

Helmut settled on looking at Selby instead. He had to concentrate on her or else he wasn't sure if he could keep the content of his stomach in place. It was too similar, too close to home for his mind not to start messing with him with the 'what if' scenarios.

The ride home was dead silent. Helmut was sure that if he clenched the wheel any harder, the leather surrounding it would rip and break. The bright beam-lights of Ivana 's Range Rover Evoque lit up the road in front of him as he sped through the empty streets. He was grateful that there was no other cars around as he wasn't completely sure that he wouldn't murder someone on the spot given the chance.

"Daddy?" Nic pulled his attention from the countless racing thoughts in his head.

"Hmm?" He frowned and tilted his head towards her, not taking his eyes off the road. He needed to concentrate on something else.

"Are you mad?"

"No." Sometimes you had to lie to your children to protect them. He was quite familiar with that concept. Certain matters were best kept hidden. Truths of what his job really entailed, the rumors of human experimentation in outside city facilities, reasons why their country was always on a brink of war or governmental collapse. So what was a small lie about how he felt compared to the never-ending list of half-truths and outright lies he told?

"Are you sure?"

"Don't close your eyes. You'll only make yourself dizzy." He changed the subject instead. He cast a glance at her curled up on the seat and with a sigh, placed his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it in a warning. The last thing he needed was her freaking out if she started to feel sick.

Helmut had only needed to take one glance at her and instinctively know that it wasn 't just alcohol running through her system. He didn't need proper lighting to know her pupils were still blown out of proportion or look at the way she grounded her jaw to confirm his suspicion.

"I feel sick."

"I bet you do," He muttered under his breath, too low for her to hear. Nonetheless, he pressed down gently on the brakes bringing the car to a smooth stop. "Let's get you some air."

Nic clumsily reached for the door handle and pulled it hard enough that it slipped from her grip and made a loud noise sliding back in place. It took her few tries to actually pry the doors open.

Hearing the door shut, he closed his eyes and leaned further into his seat. Dragging his hand over his face did very little to help him relax the tension that slipped into his bones ever since he answered her call. He could already feel the beginning of a migraine forming.

Helmut sighed deeply and unclipped his seatbelt. He couldn 't let her leave his eyesight for too long. Who the hell knew what she could think of doing in the drug-induced mind. Clearly, there wasn't much thinking involved that got her in this state in the first place. He had to swallow the urge to demand for answers that she most likely would not be able to think of. 'Later', he had to remind himself. They needed to get home first.

Helmut walked around the car from the back and found her sitting on the gravel with knees pulled to her chest. Even with his jacket over whatever it was that she was wearing, she was barely covered. He had no doubt that the gravel that dug into her skin would be painful tomorrow. God, that was never how he wanted to see her.

Slowly crouching down, he put his hand on her shoulder again, feeling it shake under his touch. He brought his other hand into her hair, and stroked it lightly, in an attempt to calm her down. Of course, she ended up freaking herself out. That was what tended to happen when you didn 't think your actions through. Hearing her breath hitch, he forced any emotion he might have felt to leave his voice and moved in closer, dropping down to one of his knees. The gravel was a bitch.

"You're fine. Look at me," He moved his hands to cup her face, tapping her cheek lightly to keep her attention on him for long enough to calm down. "You're okay. Don't work yourself up. It will pass."

She gripped his shirt and lurched herself into his chest, almost knocking him backward. Grunting lightly, he wrapped his arms around her shaking form and let her destroy his shirt with makeup, tears, and snot.

"Come on, mom is waiting for us at home." He encouraged her softly and kissed the side of her head. "I'm sure she has some tea ready for us. That sound good?"

He felt her nod against him and waited a couple of moments before pulling away.

Getting her inside and not waking the entire house was another feat. It seemed that she was hellbent on being as loud as humanly possible. Even with him supporting most of her weight, she found ways to almost trip or knock something off.

"Hey," Ivana greeted them as she stepped from the kitchen into the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. "Whoa."

"Mom!" Nic half screamed into his ear, making him wince in pain.

"Nic!" He hissed in warning. He was this close to snapping entirely. "Carl is asleep, don't be loud."

She turned and looked at him with a wobbly lip and eyes sparkling with tears. Helmut swallowed, feeling the pang of guilt pass him. No, he had no reason to feel guilty. But just because he knew something logically didn 't mean that her expression didn't pierce through his heart.

"Here, I'll put her to bed," Ivana interrupted approaching them and wrapping one of Nic's arms around her shoulder, taking some of the weight off him. "You take a breath."

"I'm fine." He bit out harsher than he meant. Taking a breath in, he glanced at them. "Give a shout if you need help."

It took him longer than a moment to actually let go fully and let Ivana take over. Rubbing his neck, he walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom and dug through the drawers of his bedside table until he found a half-full packet of cigarette carton with a lighter shoved inside.

He took it and walked out into the balcony, leaving the door half-open behind him. He closed his eyes as he brought the bud to his lips and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs. Only then could he feel his shoulders releasing some of the tension that he carried. He eventually reopened his eyes, not really looking at anything.

"You're smoking." Helmut eventually heard Ivana behind him but didn't turn to her. At least she didn't sound annoyed.

"Yeah," He mumbled as she joined him and leaned against the railing. "I'll take a shower before I come back to bed."

"I'll let it pass for tonight." She looked him up and down and slightly arched her eyebrow. "Although, do make sure you throw that shirt into a wash. I don't even want to know what's on it."

Helmut could tell she was trying to lighten up his mood but he wasn't sure it was possible at that minute. There were too many emotions swirling under the surface. He wasn't a stranger to saying something in a heat of a moment and then regretting it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Half of their early arguments as a new couple consisted of that. So he kept his mouth shut until he got himself under control. Ivana understood his needs, sometimes more than he did himself, and let him brood in his own misery until he finished his first cigarette and tossed it away.

He sighed deeply and finally turned his head to look at her. She stood beside him in a rich blue, silk dressing gown and some fluffy slippers. For a moment he wondered if it wasn't too cold to stand on a balcony in the middle of the night. A twinge of guilt passed through him. He didn't want his own restlessness to make her cold.

"Am I away from home that often? Going through abandoned bunkers, this. Is this some sort of cry for help or attention? What else don't I know? She secretly dating a fifty-year-old man too?" He pondered, the words rolling off his tongue the moment he opened his mouth. Perhaps he opened his mouth too soon. He stretched out his arm, going for the carton that he threw to the side but she blocked it and took his hand in her own instead.

"She messed up." Ivana agreed quietly, rubbing her fingers against his knuckles.

"She's fifteen, lied where she was, drank and got high off her rockets. I think it constitutes more than just a mess up." He barked out. Fuck. He needed another cigarette.

Untangling his hand free of her hold, this time she didn't stop him as he reached for the carton and pulled out another cigarette before lighting it up again. After a couple of moments of silence, he swapped hands and extended his left for her to hold again. He needed something to ground him.

"I'm not disagreeing with you, love." She reminded him, lacing their fingers together. "But she did call you when she felt unsafe. That counts for something."

"So what? We should congratulate her on making a single sane decision in the mess that she created herself?"

"No one is saying that, Helmut. But maybe you are being a bit too harsh," Ivana said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He leaned further against the turning in their balcony, exhaling harshly the smoke out of his chest, causing his throat to burn. "She is a teenager after all. They are not exactly known for making the best choices."

"I'm not too hard on her. If anything, I'm clearly not hard enough on her. Hell if I called my father after pulling these kinds of stunts he would have skinned me alive for disrespecting the family name."

"I'd rather have our daughter mess up and know she can call us than her hiding out god knows where out of fear." She chastised him, her tone hardening. It snapped him out of his tirade long enough to realize the implications of what he said.

"My apologies," He lowered his head in shame at even the notion of it. "It wasn't what I intended to say."

"I have been by your side long enough to know what you mean and don't mean. I know you're angry."

"Of course I'm angry. You didn't see her in that dingy bathroom with skimpy clothes, eyes blown wide. It wasn't just some weed she smoked, that's for sure. Besides where did she even pick up such clothes?" Even talking about it made his skin crawl with dread. He brought the cigarette to his mouth yet again, needing the calm. Chain-smoking was a habit that he picked up years ago all the way back when he was just a private, and needed nicotine in stressful situations. This definitely constituted a stressful situation.

Ivana didn't respond, just kept rubbing his shoulder. Her lack of anger was starting to get under his skin. Almost made him feel like he was in the wrong. He wasn't, not this time.

"Why aren't you angry?" He finally asked.

"Of course I'm angry Helmut, I'm furious. But right now, Nic is in bed and you need me more."

Her words, spoken with such gentleness, forced him to turn to her and really look at her. Here she was, in the middle of the night, listening to his ramblings and quietening down all his inner turmoils. What would he ever do without her? There was no way in hell he ever deserved her.

He clenched his jaw a couple of times as he tried to find the words to somehow justify his behavior. To justify the tornado of rage and absolute fear that swirled inside him. In the end, he settled on:

"A girl died a week ago, overdosing on shit like this."

"I know."

"All I can imagine is that being her," He sighed, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head. It was like the idea itself tried to choke the life out of him. "Of getting a call like that in the middle of the night. Instead of the one we got tonight. I can't. I really can't."

Ivana sighed and wrapped her arms around him, stepping on her tippy toes to land her chin on his shoulder. "We won't. You know we won't. She made a mistake and she is sorry about it. We'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Together."

Helmut felt her fingers slowly run through his hair, easing some pressure off his chest. Not enough to let it go entirely, but just enough for him to feel like he could go back inside.

"Well, she's a sad drunk just like you. That's for sure." His attempt to finally lighten the mood felt flat even to his own ears. Nevertheless, she chuckled and slapped his chest lightly in a warning.

"Watch yourself. One more comment and I'll have you sleeping on the couch." She smiled and turned to go back inside but he tugged her back into his hold before she had a chance.

"I love you." He told her, meaning every word. He loved her, truly. He doubted that he would ever find enough words to express just how much he adored her.

"And I love you. Now come on, let's go back to bed. You can be mad at her tomorrow." She took his hand and pulled him back inside their room.

"You go ahead, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"You better." She pointed a finger at him. "And seriously, lose the shirt. Preferably into the trash. It's disgusting."

For once he didn't disagree with her opinion on clothes. He doubted he would ever be able to get the stains and the stench out of the material.

"Nothing special for the price. I'd go for the Stironium that Joy offers. Basically the same thing but cheaper. " Nic's voice snapped him back to reality. Swallowing, he spared a glance at her, half expecting her to look drugged up. He didn't delude himself, knowing where he was. Narcotics in Madripoor hit a completely different level. It was more like a ticking Russian Roulette. You were considered lucky if you were alive by the morning.

To his surprise, the woman didn't even look dazed let alone under the influence. That was…an interesting piece of information to know.

"I knew it," Selby sighed and nodded to one of the men who promptly left the office. Her attention returned to him. "What was your offer again?"

"Tell us what you know about the Super-Soldier serum." Helmut proposed and stood up. He circled behind James, touching him just enough to show that he was the one in control. As expected, James did not move or wince as he trailed his hands down his face. "And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want."

"Now that's the Zemo I remember." Selby gleamed at the prospect of his offer. Helmut nodded, pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."

With his job of selling the bait complete, he returned to his seat. He nodded in thanks as Nic moved her legs out of his way.

"The Super-Soldier Serum is here in Madripoor. You're looking at one example right in front of you." Selby confirmed his speculation and pointed at Nic lazily.

Helmut struggled briefly to keep his face straight. The woman in front of him did not look like a Super Soldier, if anything she looked very much like a regular person. Well, as normal as a person could be when they looked older version of someone else. But human. Nothing like the ones that he killed in Siberia.

Besides, Selby looked eager when he offered up James. Why would she want him if she already had a Super Soldier working for her? He supposed James was pretty handsome for a man but he doubted that she would be interested in him that way. The Selby he knew was always interested in finding use out of a situation or a person, not to take a personal interest.

Too many things weren't adding up.

"Doctor Nigel is the man you want to thank or condemn," Selby released a dramatic sigh, cocking her head to the side. "Depending on what side of this you're on."

"She's your pet?" Helmut asked curiously. He had so many questions about this Nic, but couldn't ask any of them without giving himself away.

"In a way. Power Broker's toy. Such a pretty thing, lethal too if you can afford her." The way she said, with such glee, made a shiver go down his back. She cast her eyes at Sam. "you know all about that don't you, Smiling Tiger?"

"Don't need to tell me." Sam mustered up all could in sounding confident for which Helmut was thankful. But Selby didn't seem to want to let up.

"You're taller than I'd heard."

"It's the shoes." Nic intervened and loosely crossed her arms, kicking up her foot against his couch. If he didn't know better he would say that it was a subtle attempt to lock him in his place. Was she playing something? He couldn't figure out her angle. Not yet, anyway.

"You had plenty of business with him didn't you?" Selby raised her eyebrow at Nic who merely nodded. "Can you confirm it's him?"

Helmut stiffened up, slowly moving his hand closer to his pockets, ready for a fight. He wondered if he would be able to grab the gun off the table quicker than Selby. Any moment now, their cover would be blown. He doubted the security would hesitate in shooting them. Nic stood up and slowly walked over from the couch to Sam. She circled around him like a cheetah ready to play with her food before devouring it.

She walked right up to Sam until there was almost no space between them and looked up. Helmut was ready to pray to the God he had long abandoned if it kept Sam from blowing their cover by stepping back. They were so close to knowing what they needed, it would be nice if they could leave this place without being shoved inside a body bag. He watched with a bated breath as she tilted her head and clicked her tongue.

"Oh, it's him."

Helmut was not expecting that. He looked up to James who also wore a similar expression of surprise. She was covering for them? Why? He doubted she really believed Sam to be Conrad Mack, she gave them more than enough indication that she suspected at least something.

"Good." Selby flashed her teeth as she turned to Helmut. "Had to ask. Too many fakes running around ever since the Blip."

Yeah, like the one sitting right in front of him who just lied about the identity of the Smiling Tiger.

"The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn't go as planned."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?"

"Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you." Selby teased him, raising up. "And before you get all cute, don't think you can find Nagel without me."

Helmut pursed his lips. She was right, people like him loved to hide out in the dark, work off-grid in their own little dungeons. He despised the Frankenstein wannabes, too deluded in their own ideals to see the lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Selby just about passed by Sam when a sudden buzzing noise brought the office to a standstill. It appeared that everyone held in their breath as the vibration rang out again. All eyes turned to Sam who dug into his jacket to retrieve his phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Did he seriously not turn off his phone? Helmut looked away exasperated and his eyes landed on Nic just in time to see her stiffened in her seat and clench her jaw. If Sam blew their cover and Selby realized that she covered for them, for whatever reason, she'd be just in as much hot water as they would.

In conclusion, this was very bad for all of them.

"Answer it. On speaker." Selby ordered as the phone continued to vibrate in Sam's hand. James moved behind Selby as the guards stepped up closer to Sam. Helmut glanced around the place, looking for any possible exit routes or what they could use to defend themselves. If they were ever going to get out of here alive, he was going to feed him nothing but expired food, that was for sure. Did he really need to spell it out for them every little precaution when going into a bad place? What kind of moron didn't turn off his ring tone when going undercover?

"Hello?" Sam answered.

"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It's been drivin' me nuts."

"What situation exactly are you talkin' about?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nic move to the center of the couch as she watched the interaction.

"Are you high? You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have."

Their eyes met as Nic reached for the gun on the table while everyone's attention was focused on Sam and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket before leaning back. She continued to watch him with a cold gaze as she ran her hand through the right side of her face and settled her fingers over her mouth.

He barely heard it. Perhaps he even imagined it happening at all. Maybe she simply coughed. But at that moment, he was certain that she uttered 'grasshopper' in Sokovian.

The call, Sam, Selby; they all became muted. Mere background noise as his whole body froze up on the spot. There was ringing in his ears. Or was it his own heartbeat that was banging against his eardrums? He wasn't sure. A sudden chill swept through him as if a cold wind cut through his skin. The word was not meant for him. He most likely was not even meant to hear it in the first place.

His brain screamed at him to snap out of it. To get himself back in order before he was riddled with bullets. But even blinking felt like an impossible feat. How was he meant to pay attention to what was going on around him? A fleeting, treasonous, thought crossed his mind. Did it even matter if he ended up with a bullet in his head before he had a chance to fight back? No. He still had a job to do. He needed to finish it before he gave in any temptation.

"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

It felt like forever when he finally zoned back into his surroundings. Right. Sam was about to blow their cover. This woman in front of him was or at least knew Sokovian while looking like his daughter. James did what he did best, and stared at Sam.

Wait. Who was she talking to? Was she wired? Who the hell was on the other end?

Helmut tilted his head ever so slightly as Selby walked behind him. From experience, he did not enjoy someone standing behind when he was not in control of the room. Even now, it made his skin crawl with dread. She was circling them like they were the prey.

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed."

"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios?" Helmut inhaled sharply. They were done. "I don't have time for this! Sam, I'm sorry. I'll call you back."

The pressure in the air dropped. Selby raised her eyebrow, surprised.

"Sam? Who's Sam?"

"Now." Nic hissed out at the same time as Selby shouted "Kill them!"

Nic ripped the pistol out of her jacket and jumped up. She aimed and pulled the trigger. The sound of that first bullet leaving the chamber pierced through his eardrums. Multiple shots followed, as well as a window shattering into millions of shards. A man in the very back of the office dropped with dead weight.

The second's hesitation, the shock of surprise that passed through the guards, gave just enough time for Sam and James to overpower them. Helmut leaped from his seat as they fought for the weapons, there was no moment to waste.

Nic jumped over the corner of the couch to the table. Slapping the mask over her face she pulled the table apart. By the time that everyone was either knocked out or dead, she had thrown a backpack over her shoulders and secured it over her chest.

James pointed the gun as the doors to the office opened.

"Whoa." A woman with glasses entered the office. It took her one look inside to raise her hands up in surrender. "Wait I-"

"Nothing personal, it's just business." Nic responded and pulled the trigger before James could.

"They're gonna pin this on us," Sam informed them as he looked at Helmut. As if he didn't know that himself.

"We have a real problem now," He sighed thinking of what they could do. Maybe if they managed to sneak out unnoticed, they'd have just enough time to hide out and eventually get out of Low Town. It was their best chance. "so leave your weapons and follow my lead."

"We have roughly two minutes before every single mercenary gets an alert for a bounty. She was on the no kill list." Nic briefed them as she walked over to them with a phone in hand.

"Two minutes?" Helmut couldn't help but smirk. "A lot can be done in two minutes."

=====

By the time they made it to the streets and turned a corner, Nic's phone chimed up.

"We are about to have a lot of company," Nic called out and held up her phone. It had two notifications:

Messenger | now.

'Selby dead. B1k BOUNTY for her killers.'

Veron | now.

'58324 Ridge Tow. 7 minutes.'

Helmut would have loved to ask about the second message if they weren't about to become biggest practice targets to about every single lowlife in the city.

"What's the plan now?" James bit out as they marched down the street. More and more phones chimed up. Eyes followed their every move.

"Follow me and you might stand a chance," Nic replied, pulling a hood over her head.

"How do we know you're not just going to shoot us? You just said Selby was on the no-kill list and you shot her."

"Oh, you don't. But I am your only hope of staying alive."

"This is not good," Helmut warned, he could see the bystanders arming themselves. They had no choice but to place their trust in her.

The street light went out underneath them and a man pointed a gun at them. Shots rang out behind them.

"Through here," Nic shouted, ducking from the fire. She took a sharp turn behind a parked van that Helmut barely managed not to miss. They sprinted through a small alleyway in between the buildings.

"Why are you helping us?" He called out as they passed yet another turn, barely keeping up with her.

"An interested party is paying a lot of money to keep you alive." She responded and slowed down ever so slightly. As if she noticed that he couldn't keep up with a Super-Soldier speed. She frowned looking behind him. "Are your friends able to follow any basic instructions?"

Helmut looked back as well. Sam and James were nowhere to be seen.

"Not particularly." He sighed, shrugging. "Who is this interested party?"

She did not reply to him. Instead, she tapped her right ear as she held the pistol and slowly walked over to the end of the alleyway.

"We have a problem." She snapped into what he assumed was an earpiece.

"Oh?"

"Forty seconds."

Wordlessly she passed her gun to him and pulled out a blade that he could not recognize in the dim light. She moved out of the alleyway into the open. He followed suit with the gun raised but had no time to see where she ran off to.

Helmut aimed at whoever stood in front of him just as Sam and James cut the corner and appeared into the view. The goon dropped dead before he could pull the trigger. Startled, he squinted to see where the shot came from.

He turned at the sound of motorbikes approaching them. Another shot rang out, right as Nic popped out and dragged the goon off the bike to the floor. He did not rise again.

"You seem to have a guardian angel." Helmut broke the silence, surprised, as he walked up to them.

"Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo." A voice behind him made him jump and turn around. With the gun in his face, he had no choice but to bend down and slowly put the gun on the floor.

"Sharon?" James faltered, recognizing her. He knew her. A friend?

"You cost me everything." The woman, Sharon, growled at him with the gun still pointed to him. Helmut cocked his eyebrow. Did he? He could not recall ever meeting her before. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.

"Sharon, wait." Sam interjected, stepping closer to him. "Someone recreated the Super-Soldier serum and Zemo had a lead."

He was defending him? How sweet. Helmut would have made a witty comment if his life wasn't hanging by a thread. He turned his head to see Nic walking up to them from behind. The knife that she carried had spots of blood on it.

Helmut swallowed nervously. The woman in front of him clearly held a grudge against him and the woman behind him, well he had not the slightest idea what she wanted. Who was to say that they weren't about to end his existence at a moment's notice.

"That explains why you guys are here. And Selby's dead." She gave a pointed look at Nic who just shrugged.

"In my defense, this one did not think to turn off his phone."

"So what are you doing here?" Sam asked, changing the attention away from himself. Helmut wondered if he was embarrassed that he forgot to do such a basic task. He hoped that he was.

"I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor." Oh. So that's why she didn't like him. Even though it was hardly his fault.

"Don't blow smoke. I was on the run, too."

"Was. Is. Big difference. I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am."

Helmut looked around uncomfortably. He didn't particularly care about their reunion. Especially when they were still out on the open and could be spotted at any moment.

"Listen… Sharon, we need your help." James said, causing the woman to chuckle.

"Please." He added for the good measure.

Sharon sighed and looked behind them where Nic stood around.

"You alright?"

"Never been better," Nic called out. Even with his back turned to her, he could tell she was smirking.

"This isn't over. I have a place in High Town. You'll be safe there for a while."

Helmut shared a look with Sam and James and nodded. Getting a ride to High Town would be safer for them than navigating their way back to the safe house themselves. The bounty on their heads would not go away anytime soon.

"I'll follow by." Nic nodded to them and walked over to the motorbikes that sat empty. Kicking one of the bodies out of her way, she turned on the engine.

Helmut intended to trail behind them but Sam grabbed his shoulder and roughly moved him to the front, preventing him from seeing Nic take off. He still had so many questions and about zero answers when it came to her. Not knowing something was not his style.

The ride from Low Town was just as quiet but more relaxing than their last one. He imagined that having company that did not try to kill them at any chance they got helped.

Glancing at the side mirror, he saw that a single motorbike was close, trailing behind them.

"Your friend," Helmut opened his mouth, hoping to get even a grain of information. "Nic. Who-"

"Shut up, Zemo." Sam snarled from the back as he leaned into the seat's headrest and closed his eyes.

Helmut raised an eyebrow watching him through the rear mirror. At first, he assumed that the hostility was from the adrenaline of having a whole town trying to feed them bullets. But enough time passed for them to settle down and take a breath in. So there had to be another reason for the snappiness.

Helmut racked his brain through the day's events that would result in such behavior. He had to admit a lot did occur in the space of the twenty-four hours.

Oh?

Perhaps his intuition was correct and there was something going on between these two men. It would definitely explain the constant staring at each other. If he was right, he could imagine that Sam did not take lightly at the prospect of him trying to sell off James. Not that he actually wanted or planned to do it. He had hoped it would not come to that point anyway. James was much more useful to have around than not.

====

Their car pulled in front of a gated building that was surrounded by guards. Helmut had to admit, he was impressed. Not many people would be able to afford such a place, especially in High Town. He followed closely behind Sharon as they walked inside.

The inside was as over the top and sleek as he imagined it would be. They passed through numerous paintings that he had no doubt were the real copies and other artifacts. So she was a hustler then.

"Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well." Sam chuckled looking around.

"I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I'll get for a real Monet?" Sharon explained, leading them further in.

"Also it helps that a lot of high-paying idiots do not realize the real value of art and are willing to overpay," Nic added passing them all.

"Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets."

"No. She means real." Helmut interjected, having some experience with places like these. Ivana had picked Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 by Marcel Duchamp to hang in their living room by the fireplace. "This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics."

"It's true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this." Even James reaffirmed their point.

"Okay, guys, I see what you're doing. You're more worldly than good old Sam." Sam rolled his eyes and proceeded to Google it.

"Yeah. What's Google say?" James asked sarcastically.

"No shit."

Helmut glanced at them. They fell behind, referring to bicker with each other than to follow them. Definitely had to be fucking.

"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour." Sharon sighed exasperated.

====

Helmut helped himself to the open bar while James and Sam tried to pick what to wear for the evening. There was no way he would exchange the comfort of his own clothes to whatever Sharon had in stock. He already looked the part anyway. It was one of the many advantages of having a good taste in fashion.

Nic apparently had a similar idea as she threw the backpack by James and joined him at the bar. Wordlessly, Helmut passed her a glass and proceeded to pour himself a good amount of scotch. He would need a lot of it if he even wanted to begin to untangle the mess. Ignoring her existence seemed to be the easier option at the moment.

"Much better." Sharon made a comment as she passed Sam who kept changing his mind on what shirt to wear. His indecisiveness started to grate on Helmut's nerves. Even he didn't take this long to choose a shirt and he was called a fashion diva on numerous occasions.

Sharon sat down beside James and took the bag on her lap. She unzipped it and looked up at Nic with a grin.

"You think you can push it?"

"I know I can." Nic replied smugly and rose the glass to her mouth.

"Hold up," Sam interrupted turning to them with a simple turtle neck in his arms. Helmut crinkled his nose. Really? All this time for a plain turtleneck? "What exactly do you do? Cause you are sending mixed messages with the killing and saving our asses."

"I do whatever you can afford me to do." Nic grinned and looked him up and down as if to make a point. Helmut cringed at the suggestive tone of her voice. It made him uncomfortable to even think of what it could entail. Whether she did look like his daughter or not, it felt wrong. He doubted she was much older than twenty. Practically a kid.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, getting a similar image as he did.

"So what?" He asked Sharon, putting the shirt over his head. "You have a lot of people that need to be murdered on your list?"

"Oh, no." Sharon chuckled. "We're friends. I just buy her out whenever I can to mostly chill. Her being able to sell crap to others on the side are just an added bonus."

"Who is the Power Broker now?" Helmut asked as he held the glass in his hands. He doubted it was the same person from when he dealt with him. People in places like Madripoor usually did not reach pension age.

"Depend on which division you want to talk to." Sharon shrugged. "It's not a single entity anymore but more like a big umbrella organization. Even then, you don't really know who you speak to. Suppose it's easier to hold on to power that way."

"You seem like you know a lot about how this place operates. What's going on, Sharon? You don't ever wanna come back home?" Sam frowned, sitting down on the couch opposite of her.

"They'll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition." Sharon sighed, standing up and walking over to another table to pick something up. Helmut watched her, noticing that she did not sit in one place for too long. Interesting. He wondered for a second if perhaps she had some form of ADHD or if it was just her body language betraying discomfort.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after The Blip and the chaos, I just…"

"Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."

"He knows. And not so deep down." Helmut commented, bringing everyone's attention to him. He raised his glass in fake salute.

"By the way, how is the new Cap?"

"He sounds annoying." Nic interjected. She raised her eyebrow as he looked up at her. "What? It's Madripoor, not a cave. We do keep up with international news."

"Don't get me started." James grumbled, turning his head away.

"Please." Sharon scoffed, settling down beside James again. "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."

Well, that was offensive. To both him and James.

"Wow. She's kind of awful now." James bit out dryly.

"You get used to it." Nic retorted as she poured herself another drink.

"Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum." Sam spoke, playing with his collar. Either the scotch was really good or the day was getting to him, but if Sam kept messing with his attire one more time he wasn't sure he will be able to control himself enough not to strangle him.

Perhaps he was still annoyed at Sam for not turning off his phone.

"You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety."

"We know it's a risk, but we won't leave until we find the one who cracked the code."

"We got a name. Wilfred Nagel." James added.

Sharon shared a look with Nic before rising once again.

"Nagel works for the Power Broker."

Helmut moved out of her way the moment he saw her walk in his direction. He glanced at the empty seat by a glass table and chose to sit there. It was close enough that he could still see them. The only downside was that Nic was directly in his sight now. With no imminent danger to his life, it was harder to concentrate on other matters and not let his mind run miles away. The longer he looked at her, the more exhausted he felt. Weariness seeped into his bones. He focused on the glass in his hands, running his fingertips through the golden strip.

"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared."

"You haggling with my life?"

"Not like that."

Helmut frowned. He didn't particularly care for their conversation. Or whether Sharon cleared her name. He was itching to get out, preferably as far away from Nic as possible. Maybe he could drink himself stupid until he forgot ever meeting her. Or until he started to believe that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and he simply slapped Nic's face over someone who shared her name.

That was going to take a lot of alcohol. It had been years since the last time that he got so drunk he passed out. Ironically, alcohol never made him forget, if anything it made the noise in his head so much louder.

He stopped paying attention to their conversation. It became a background noise as he zoned out. Even the glass that he kept staring at blurred away.

"I don't buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name."

"Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you're right. What happened to you. But I'm willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he's met."

"I heard that."

"I don't trust charity."

A pair of boots in his vision snapped him back. He blinked and looked up to see Nic standing in front of him.

"Sorry. Kind of need that." She pointed at the chest that was on the table.

"Of course." He gave her a polite smile and moved his chair to the side so she could grab it.

He gulped as the perfume hit his senses again. It felt weird. Wrong. His Nic always stole Ivana's perfumes that had some sweet combination of coconut, vanilla and touch of floral notes. She had a habit of spraying just a touch too much.

This was too harsh of a scent on her.

Not her. A stranger. Nic was dead. He should not compare how this woman smelled to how she used to. He had no business judging.

His eyes followed her as she walked off with the chest in her arm as if it weighed nothing and stopped by the stairs.

Sharon put her drink down with thud and straightened up.

"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find."

"Trouble." Helmut blurted out sarcastically and shrugged. He watched as the two women climbed up the stairs and left his sight.

"She means you." Sam gave him a pointed look.

"Why is she mad at me again?" Helmut asked as he got up and moved back to the yellow couches. Sam sat down beside James with a drink in hand. They had some time to kill before the party began.

"You don't remember?" Sam scoffed into his drink.

"Sam, if I tried to remember every single person that I may or may not have inconvenienced directly or indirectly, it would be a very long list and we'd spend a long time sitting around."

"Can't believe I'm saying this again. But it's not the time for arguments." James groaned out and let his head fall onto the back of the couch, almost like the idea itself was paining him.

"Alright. But I swear to God if you even move out of our sight for one second. I will send your ass right back to jail before you can make some stupid remark."

"I have no intention of inconveniencing you that much." Helmut smirked. "But be my guest and enjoy the party, I'm simply going to observe some individuals. No tricks."

"No. See, if we are doing this," Sam protested pointing to the three of them. "We need to know that you are not going to stab us in the back the first chance you get. So you gotta be honest with us, and tell us what the hell you're playing at."

"I told you before, I'm here to end the Super Soldiers serum. Nothing more, nothing less." Seeing the doubt on their faces, Helmut sighed in defeat. "And also figure out who the hell the woman your friend hanging out with is."

"You suspect she isn't just Sharon's friend." James guessed, crossing his arms as he stared at him.

Helmut threw back the glass, swallowing the last of it's contents. With the familiar burn that went down his throat, he pulled out his phone from the inside of his jacket and unlocked it. It didn't take long to search up his personal ICloud storage and enter the password. His phone lit up with multiple folders of pictures and documents that he had on his old phone. He clicked on the 'Pictures' folder, somewhat grateful that the contents of it were grouped by dates and had random strings of letters for its names instead of the actual pictures itself. It wasn't something he could deal with today.'Or ever' his mind supplied ever so helpfully.

He didn't need to scroll far to find the pictures dated back to February 2015. Mainly because he stopped taking pictures past May 2015.

In that February, he managed to pull enough strings with his Lieutenant General to get a couple of weeks off at the same time that Nic and Carl had holidays off school. Ivana wanted to go to Switzerland for the ski season while he wanted to go somewhere warm. After a few days of deliberation, they settled on and ended up flying out to Barbados for couple of days.

Helmut hesitated. It had been years since he saw their faces. Dread settled in his gut as he pressed to open the pictures. He did not give himself enough time to look at the pictures. Just tiniest of flashes as he scrolled through the few landscape shots before he found a picture where Nic was in it.

"This was my daughter, Nic," He told them, raising his phone away from himself and for them to see. "Looks familiar?"

Ivana had her arms wrapped around Nic's shoulders while Nic made a face at the camera. In the picture, Nic was with a mess of brown, wet curls that dropped down her back. She was younger, scrawnier, still with some baby fat in her cheeks but it was impossible not to see the similarities between the girl in the picture and the woman that they just met today. Apart from the haircut and the years, they were identical.

"Oh shit." Sam swore, zooming into the picture.

"Any chance it is her?" James asked looking up from the phone to him.

"I buried what was left of her years ago James. Collapsed buildings and flying ruble do not leave much behind." Helmut clenched his jaw. "But I am pretty certain that it is impossible."

"So either it's the biggest coincidence in the world that we met someone with exactly the same looks and name or either someone is behind this." Sam concluded passing the phone back to him.

"My thoughts exactly." He pocketed the phone back. "I simply wish to find whoever thought this was a funny joke and have a chat with them."

James and Sam shared a look. They did not believe a word of that.

"Alright," James sighed. "We'll see what we can find out before we leave this place."

====

Thank you so much for all the notes. I'm so glad you liked the previous chapters and hope you'll enjoy this too :) xx

#tfatws #zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo fic #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #fanicti #zemo's family

8 notes · View notes

tf2-headcanons-and-scenarios · 5 years

Note

Mercs receiving a cool-down hug from s/o?(you can decide what pissed them off in the first place)

A/N: This was certainly a treat to make, hope you enjoy these!! 💕

Scout:

- You began noticing Scout’s frustration on the battlefield after being sent through respawn a few times, though you didn’t think much of it at first

- However, Spy’s laughter along with the domination fanfare made it obvious that Scout was being owned by the opposition, specifically the enemy Scout

- Over and over again did you witness Scout going through respawn, more times than you could actually count that very round

- Engi said his respawn count ticked over 100 just as the round ended

- Despite winning the round, you didn’t see Scout celebrating with the rest of the team afterwards, so you went to look for him

- You found him bouncing his baseball against the wall, throwing the poor thing with a lot of force

- That was was definitely going to become dented

- You sat beside him and asked him what was wrong, to which he details his entire disaster of being dominated by a Scout just as annoying and cocky as him

- He told you that what really pissed him off was when he started weaving you into his trash talking

- Ridiculous things such as “Heh, looks like I’m the one that should be dating [y/n] from now on!” or “If [y/n] were to see you now they’d start falling in love with me instead!”

- As childish as the insults were, they really got to him and he couldn’t keep his cool for the entire round

- You didn’t know what to say so you brought him close for a comfort hug

- He was caught off-guard at first but it didn’t take long for him to hug you back tightly

- You boy stayed like that for a while and he eventually calmed down

- He’ll never admit that your hugs remind him of home

Soldier:

- It was easy to pinpoint when Soldier was growing angry, usually he’d start yelling at the top of his lungs and try to murder the hell out of the person/people that pushed him over the edge

- If someone on your team pissed him off, he’d make life for that person living hell until he either forgets about it or another poor soul manages to piss him off

- That poor soul so happened to be almost everyone on the entire team when they began to lose ground pushing the cart

- He was holding Scout up by the throat and pinned Pyro to the ground with his foot when you and Medic stepped in to intervene

- He was itching for blood and a bloody fight, nothing was going to calm him down anytime soon

- Heavy eventually restrained him and set him on top of the cart so he can still help push the bloody thing

- You sat on top of it with him as he kept trying to yell and fight absolutely everyone around him

- You try to tall reason into him but words seem to be the last thing he wants to hear, so you try the next best thing and hug him

- He froze and tried to shake you off at first, still boiling with anger, but he eventually quietened down and tried to get away from you less and less

- As Scout puts it, you managed to ‘tame the beast’ with a mere hug

- Soldier wouldn’t mind getting angry again if it meant you could hug him again. That being said, he was convinced for a while that you’ll only hug him if he’s angry

- He does try to get angry all the time for hugs from you

- You eventually remind him that hugs from you are infinite no matter what the circumstances are

Pyro:

- It comes down to Pyro’s body language to tell if they’re angry, happy, sad etc.

- It takes a while for you to notice, but you figured out they were not having a very good day when they walked out of respawn visibly shaking from anger, growling behind their gas mask as they march back to the front lines

- You didn’t really know what had happened until you witness Pyro protecting your fellow Engineer’s nest but dying to a very cocky Spy who never sapped the buildings, instead opting to pester and target only Pyro

- You never did see that Spy at the end of the round, you don’t know why

- When the round was over, you tried to find Pyro to see if they were alright, only to find them burning the bodies left behind by the enemy team as they all went through respawn

- They were violently shaking from anger, and they were verbally growling in frustration

- When you tried to approach them, they turned around, grabbed you and almost threw you into the fire when they snapped out of their rage for a few seconds

- This gave you the time to wrap them up in a hug and whisper comforting words into their ear through the gas mask

- They stopped shaking from anger and started shaking from crying, and they held onto you tightly, as if letting go was going to send them back to moments ago

- From that moment forward, anytime they begin to feel frustrated or angry, they seek you out for a hug

- They really believe your hugs work like magic, they make all the bad things go away

- If they have to wait for you to respawn for a quick hug, so be it

Demoman:

- Most of the time, if Demoman gets pissed off, he’d usually drink it away until it didn’t bother him anymore

- Even if he became drunk on the battlefield, so long as it meant he wasn’t feeling the absolute shit-fest that was being dominated by an enemy then he’ll drink until the cows come home

- However, you notice him trying to drink his anger away and failing miserably during a round of CTF in 2Fort

- Turns out some enemy Engineer was dishing out the dirt on absolutely everyone on your team, throwing insults and taunts at everyone who crossed his path

- Particularly this Texan asshole jabbed at Demo’s history of drinking, poor choices and his lost eye. As an added cherry on top, the enemy Engi threw you into that pile too

- “I don’t know who to feel sorry for: You for your lack of fighting skills, or ya girlfriend for dating your sorry drunk ass.”

- Demo was just feeling like shit to the point he was really pissed off

- In an attempt to comfort him, you bring him into a gentle and cautious hug, unsure if it was the best course of action to take

- Your shoulders relax when he returns the hug and clings to you as you rub soothing circles into his back and kiss his cheek and forehead

- Afterwards you accompany him to help get revenge on the enemy Engineer

- Let’s just say that it was a lot of fun for the both of you, not so much for the Engineer

Heavy:

- When this man is angry, he’s angry in one of two ways

- Either he mows down the entire enemy team with his mini-gun with no mercy or sense of control

- Or he stays silent, keeps to himself, avoids everyone like the plague and stays locked up in his room for hours on end without speaking to anyone else

- You catch him alone in his room reading a book in Russian one day after a fight ensued between the team

- Heavy, as you remembered, was one of the main participants in the argument and as much as he tried to keep his cook throughout the entire ordeal, you knew that Scout was never going to give up

- He notices your presence and instead of motioning for you to leave, he motions for you to come sit with him to read together

- You sit beside him and he gives you a book in English, and you both sit in awkward silence together reading in his room

- Eventually you break the silence by asking if he was ok. He doesn’t respond to you in words but he nods at the question

- You lean over and wrap your arms around him apologising for the mess that was the fight, at least what you had been guilty of doing/dating during the argument

- He lets out a sigh and holds you close, giving you gentle pats on the back. Heavy feels himself relaxing more and feeling less frustrated than before because of the hug

- He invites you to sit close to him as he translates his book into English for you to understand

- You both cool off completely reading Russian literature together, and he even teaches you a few new sentences in Russian

Engineer:

- Engineer is more on the verbal side of the coin whenever he’s angry. The only physical things he’s done while angry were throwing tools down on the ground or kicking broken machinery

- There was no round going on when you and the rest of the team hear something breaking, followed by the not-so-sweet melody of a Texan swearing throughout the base from his workshop

- You and a few of the mercs go and see what had happened, finding Engineer cursing at a teleporter that lay in pieces

- Eventually everyone but you left the area, and you step towards him to ask what had happened

- He told you that the teleporters were having a difficult time keeping themselves running, and hat he tried to fix them to no sort of avail

- He grabbed his hat and threw it down to the ground, kicking the broken bits of the teleporter and he roughly grabbed his blueprints and moved to work on it again

- You pick the pieces up and place them by the work bench before moving behind the Texan and giving him a comforting hug

- He tenses up at first before sighing and leaning into your gentle touch that he loves so dearly

- He apologises for the mess and making you concerned, giving you a hug in return

- He still is angry, just not as much now that you’re here

- You both spend the rest of the day fixing the teleporter

Medic:

- This man tends to hide the fact that he’s frustrated by getting himself busy with absolutely anything he can

- If there were no opportunities to experiment on a team member, he’d either feed his birds or write up medical reports he has yet to finish

- You find him feeding his doves late in the evening after overhearing the amount of headaches the German received from Scout and Soldier

- You didn’t know much of the details, but whatever it was that they did severely pissed of Medic

- You approach Medic and ask him for his side of the incident and he brushes you off, saying that he’s fine etc.

- You don’t buy his bullshit for a second but you don’t insist on any answers until he was willing to talk

- You give him a gentle hug to calm him down and you hear him let out a big sigh

- He calms down enough to tell you what happened, and you listen to him while petting Archimedes in your hands

- Eventually you both start discussing various other subjects to lighten the mood, the base filling up with laughter echoing from Medic’s lab

- He honestly believes you help him calm down after a stressful day, which means he goes to you if he’s feeling stressed or aggravated

- You help him extract revenge on Soldier and Scout the following morning

- Let’s just say Soldier and Scout scores leave on account of medical issues

Sniper:

- When he’s angry he’s silent full stop, and he grows a lot more distant from everyone around him

- In-Battle he just starts missing some of his shots if he’s angry, outside of battle he just drives off somewhere to cool off by himself for a few hours

- You managed to catch him before he left the base one evening after a disagreement ensued between the Australian and Spy

- You try to encourage him back to base instead of driving off somewhere but he doesn’t want to get out of the car and he tells you to either get in with him or go back to base

- You jump into the passenger seat of the car, much to Sniper’s surprise, and the both of you drive in awkward silence out to the middle of nowhere

- You follow him to the top of the van where he’s watching the stars above, his face in a scowl

- Both of you sit in silence until you reach over to hug him

- He tenses up at first but gives in and wraps an arm around you, understanding the intentions of your sudden hug

- You both sit in comfortable silence Star-gazing, and he calms down

- Since then, he offers to take you out Star-gazing every now and then, and hugs become a bit more frequent especially if he’s feeling frustrated

Spy:

- For Spy, much like most of the other mercs, he’d either make life for the person/people who pissed him off living hell or he’d retreat to his Smoking Room to be alone with his anger

- You went looking for the French mercenary after coming back from a trip to town, and found him drinking and smoking in his Smoking Room

- It didn’t take a genius to determine that he had another fight with Scout

- You invite yourself inside and you receive the unwelcoming cold shoulder from Spy, the both of you sitting in silence as he tries to calm himself down

- You break the silence by asking him what went wrong and he tells you to leave before he sends you through respawn

- Despite threatening you to leave, you knew better and stayed put, even going as bold as hugging him because no amount of words was going to get through to him

- He tries to push you away, spilling his beverage onto the floor, but you cling onto him and persist

- Eventually he stops fighting you in case you got hurt, and he began to sink into your embrace

- He won’t admit it to you, but he reckons your hug was what he needed after the headache that was Scout being a dick

- He invites you to stay in the Room, offering you a drink as he turns on some music

- He keeps you close for the rest of the evening, he wants to keep holding you in his arms and he wants to be held by your embrace as he finally calms down

296 notes · View notes