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redrosesartcabin · 3 years ago

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So yeah, I wrote the thing based on an anon message for @itsme-star

I made it a Barley x (female) reader (based on my self insert character) fanfic ‘cause I had to be a little self indulgent lmao

I hope you enjoy it! It turned out longer than I had planned xD

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The double-decker couch

Barley x (female) reader fanfiction

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Around three months ago:

Y/n’s boyfriend, Barley Lightfoot, had knocked on her window… with small stones… in the middle of the night:

At first her ear just twitched and the noise had mashed with the dream she was having, but the more the noise repeated, the more her consciousness felt pulled into the physical realm again, and with a groan, she had to face the reality that the noise would not stop until she got up (she already had a suspicion as to who was causing the noise).

With a heavy sigh, y/n forced herself from under her comfortable blanket, before ripping the window open.

‘Of course it’s him’, she thought, looking down at Barley as he waved his hands up at her, somehow wide awake.

‘How much energy can a person have?’, she asked herself, before she motioned with her hands, that she’d come outside.

“What in the world are you doing here?”, she asked as she arrived, whisper-yelling at him.

“Well you know how it is my lady: sometimes one just drives around at night after finishing a campaign of quests of yore and sees the poster of a double-decker bus and then one might think: ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if one could have a couch after that structure?’ After having had thought about a new couch for a while and ‘wouldn’t it be cool, if one might be able to build that with their girlfriend?’”

“I can’t say I relate, though I am impressed by one having the idea”, she said, deliberately accentuating the word ‘one’, as she couldn’t now but smile at her beautiful dork, “And I have to say I love the idea, though I still have to decide whether it was worth waking me up at three a.m… but for now I’ll just say yes, because I love you too much to be mad at you for this”

“I know: I’m irresistible”, he winked, pulling her closer to him and engaging her in a sickeningly romantic kiss.

“As nice as this is, I would still like to catch up on some sleep. We’ll write later and you tell when we should start building”

“I actually thought… you know… that maybe now-”

“Don’t push it”

“Right”

Now:

It hadn’t been easy. First they had to scavenge several junkyards for old couches (because let’s be real: They were both poor college students and buying material or new couches just was too expensive), who weren’t completely busted. Then they had to figure out how to build the thing.

After studying art for a while, where y/n had to do a bunch of installation projects, she had gotten significantly better at building things with woods and such, though she still wasn’t an expert. And whilst Barley also got crafty from time to time, he also wasn’t a master.

But somehow, after sweat, and even a couple of tears after y/n once got her hand stuck under one of the couches, they had finished it: The double decker couch.

“This-”, Barley said, pointing his finger at it, “This is beautiful”.

It was a yellow and a green couch, connected through metal poles and stabilized with old wood planks with two ladders placed on top of it and just enough space between the couches, so that one could sit up straight. It sort of looked like a bunk bed, but with couches.

“It is. It really is”, y/n agreed, looking at her bandaged hand, “totally worth busting my hand”

“Totally worth going through every junkyard in the city”, Barley added.

“Totally worth being awake once for 48 hours”, she added as well.

“This should be awarded some kind of price… maybe I’d also just be happy for some money for a wellness weekend ‘cause my back could really need a nice massage”, Barley groaned, touching the small of his back.

“Hard agree”

They stayed standing there for a while, looking at it, before y/n occurred a question that should’ve occurred to her much sooner.

“So-uhm-”, she started, “what do we actually do with it now?”, she asked

“Sit on it of course. You sit below and I above so I can feed you grapes like you’re a roman emperor”, Barley explained matter of factly.

“That sounds lovely darling but that’s not what I mean”

“What seems to be the issue then?”he asked, a little frustrated. What could she possibly have to say now? After so much hard work?

“I mean… where do we put it?”, she asked with a sincere expression which immediately washed away his annoyance, “because it certainly won’t stay in my parents basement”, she stated.

“It’s certainly more worthy than this old, dusty room with your family's junk. And also because this place is crawling with bugs that I will have to remove every time because you’ll just screech and run away until it magically disappears”

“Hey!”, y/n interjected

“It's true!”

“Ok yeah fair enough, though seriously- where? I also can bet’ya we can’t put it anywhere in our homes either. It probably barely fit under the ceiling”

“Yeah no”

A moment of contemplative silence spread across them.

After a while, Barleys thoughts wandered to the night where he had gotten the idea. He thought about his beloved car-

‘OH. MY. GOD. That’s it!’, he thought to himself.

“I got it!”, he then yelled excitedly, his face contorted into one of the most adorable expressions y/n had ever seen anyone wear. No matter what it would be: She couldn’t but say yes to that smile.

Still she asked, “What’ya got?”

“You know how I got my idea from a poster with a double-decker bus?”, he asked her, still smiling like he had won the lottery

“Yes?”

“And you know how I have a van, right?”

“No”, she answered sarcastically, “I know absolutely nothing about your most prized possession of a van that you called Guenivere the second after you sacrificed your first Guenivere when on a quest-”

“Ok I got the gist”, he chuckled, “but ok hear this: Since I have this wonderful van, this wonderful BIG van-”

“Wait a minute: You really want to put the couch in-”, she interrupted as she realized what he was saying, but got immediately interrupted back as he realized she had caught on

“Yes! I absolutely am”

“Dear lord… but ok I have no better idea, let’s do it”

“YES”

“Barley I am telling you, this is NOT working”, y/n huffed as she let her side of the construction gently land on the ground once again.

“Come on, just one more time!”, Barley pleaded.

“You’ve been saying ‘just one more time�� for an hour!”, she argued, “there is no way around: this just doesn’t fit inside the van. You underestimated Guenivere”

“Hey! There is no underestimating Guenivere! It’s not her fault”, he pouted.

“Ok ok ok... Sorry Gueni”, y/n said, giving the car a sincere pat on one of the back doors. She has gotten used to treating the car similar to a pet, “but seriously: We’ve been trying this at every angle, and as cool as Guenivere is, she can’t magically shapeshift”

“Magically shapeshift”, Barely repeated her last words, suddenly deep in thought, before an “ohhhh”, sound escaped him, “wait here my lady, I’ll be back in a sec”

“O...k”, she said, a little confused.

Five minutes later, she saw Ian storm out of his house, his hands clenched around his magic staff, with Barley closely behind him. “WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?”Ian yelled as he came to a hold, which caused his brother to almost crash into him.

“I need you to make Guenivere big enough so that our self made double-decker couch fits into her”, Barely explained, breathing as though he had just run from death.

For a moment nobody said anything to that before Ian and y/n both shouted

“WHAT?”,at the same time.

“So much for an emergency”, Ian also mumbled, a little annoyed at his brother's antics.

“I mean: If she’s too small, then we can just make her bigger, right?”

“Technically yes but I think you didn’t consider a very small, tiny detail”, Ian commented.

“And what would that be?”, Barley asked irritated, not understanding what the issue was.

“You are aware as a supposed magic expert, that I can’t only enlarge the trunk, right? I would have to make the entire car big, and that would lead-”

“-to the entire street being filled with the car”, y/n finished the thought, apologetically laying her hand on Barleys shoulder, “I’m sorry my love. It was a nice thought”

“Dang it”, Barley breathed out, “I was looking forward to make my own uber-van-couch-double-decker-business”

“Hm”, y/n simply hummed. She had known from the beginning it would probably go south, but his enthusiasm had given her hope.

“Sorry Barley”, Ian said quietly, now feeling bad for having been so harsh beforehand , before slowly heading inside again.

Y/n and Barely sat down on the edge of Guenivere’s trunk, tired and disappointed that it all hadn’t turned out like they wanted as they looked at their creation.

Y/n leaned against Barley’s shoulder, lovingly rubbing her cheek against him like a cat (she loved doing that).

After a while Barley decided he had enough of sulking, standing up to go to the front to put on some good old metal (which luckily she enjoyed too).

As he however returned to the trunk, he noticed some ropes laying around.

He had used ropes last time to tie up some of the material he had bought for their project, so they wouldn’t move around- what if though…

“Ok I’ve had enough”, Barley decided, “I WILL have my double-decker-couch-van for more people to ride with me and my buddies and if its the last thing I’m gonna do!”

“Barley, what are you-”, y/n wanted to ask, but as she saw him pick up the ropes from the trunk floor, she understood, “- Are you sure this will work out?”

“Nope”, he answered truthfully, “but I will surely try!”

She was still skeptical, but at the same time she would try anything with him, and if it meant helping him tie a double-decker-couch to the roof of his van.

“If you believe it can be done, I will too”, she smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “let’s do this!”

It was eight p.m. The sun was almost behind the horizon and the streetlamps threw dodgy looking lights in the middle of the street and kept the corners dark.

But the elven couple, who stood in front of a yellow van with a double-decker couch tied to its roof, couldn't help but see what they had accomplished: Which was accomplishing what, at least the female elf, had thought was impossible… yet again.

“I can’t believe that worked”, Y/n mumbled.

“Told ya”, Barley hushed back.

“Should we drive around? See if anyone is crazy enough to go on a drive?”, she asked.

“You bet we are. And tomorrow… and whenever we can. I’ll be the driver and you the tourist guide.. or maybe some kinda sturdess, after all you’re good lookin’”

“Oh hush”, she giggled, visibly blushing

“And-”, he continued, though not without giving her a good wink after his compliment, “then we’re gonna show the dear people of this town another perspective to life”

“That we can promise”, she laughed, “that we sure can”

#barley x reader #barley lightfoot x reader #barley x (female) reader #barley lightfoot #onward #based on an anon message for itsme-star #anon #onward fanfiction #fanfiction #artist on tumblr #redrosessoulcabin

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her-world-on-fire · 4 years ago

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Kisses in the Corridor {Tim Drake x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,604

Request: Could you please write a tim x reader fic where the reader is a superhero (I was thinking like Barry Allen’s kid and the new Kid Flash) and is also Tim’s s/o and maybe Bruce and/or the Flash catch them having sex? 💜

2s. “stop before someone sees!" & 4s. "ten? i only need five."

WARNING NSFW MATURE CONTENT 18+ Tim and reader are 18

I WOKE up to the sound of a loud buzzing. I moved away from Tim’s grip and reached on the nightstand for my phone. I looked back at Tim, he held the same peaceful expression. I squinted at the caller ID and immediately sat up. I tried to be as gentle as possible, not to wake Tim. He was normally a very light sleeper, but he was sleep deprived. I pushed the blankets off and moved out of the room. I gently opened the door and snuck out into the hallway. I looked down at the caller ID once more to be sure before I answered.

DAD

“Dad? It’s 3am, what’s going on?” I whispered, I heard a rustling in the background. There was some kind of conflict, but I couldn’t quite make it out. After a few moments there was silence, then a heavy sigh.“I need your help.”

“What’s going on?” I moved down the hall trying my best to be quiet. “I’m going to send you some files. I need you to get Tim to decrypt them.”

“Okay send them to me and I’ll have him look at them as soon as he wakes up.” I heard a pause from the other side of the line. “When he-” He paused. “He’s with you right now?” I hadn’t exactly mentioned that I had moved in with him. As far as he knew I was still staying with in the house with the others. I faked a yawn. “I gotta go dad, love you.”

I quickly hung up and moved back into the bedroom. I got back into bed and Tim shifted slightly. I moved closer and he put his arm around me again.

I woke up and found Tim looking up at the ceiling. “Did you sleep okay? I noticed you got out of bed last night.” He turned to me, and I sighed. “Sorry I thought I was being quiet.” He chuckled, “Work hazard. Don’t worry about it.” I sat up and grabbed my phone. “Well it was my dad.” He squinted his eyes. “Why did he call you at 3am?”

“He wanted me to send you some files he needs decrypted.” I handed him my phone and showed him the files. He hummed and sat up. “I’m sorry I know you just finished your project-” He shook his head and get out of bed. “I really don’t mind. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.” Tim grabbed his laptop and connected my phone. We moved into the bathroom and got started on our morning routines.

Tim’s was straight forward, he wanted to brush his teeth and get to work. I on the other hand had a few steps. I tried to make Tim do them with me as much as I could. “Come here.” I grabbed his face and massaged a gentle cleanser. Wearing masks almost every night didn’t work wonders for out skin. He waited patiently until I was done. I applied some moisturizer, “All done.”

He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss. “I’ll get the coffee started.”

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Tim spent most of the day working on the files. When it was time to leave for patrol I had to pry him from the computer. “It’s time already?” I nodded and moved to get up. He stretched and then looked around.

I held out his suit and he sighed in relief. “What would I do without you?” He pulled his shirt over his head. My eyes raked over his toned chest. He had come a long way. He used to be lanky, but he had put on a lot more muscle in the past two years. Whatever shape he was in, I loved him.

Truth be told I was still getting used to his chiseled features. I gave him once last glance. “If I stay here any longer we’re going to be late.” I handed him his suit and moved out of the room. I grabbed my phone and noticed a missed call.

DAD: I’ll be by Friday afternoon, Bruce needs me to speak at his proposal. Looking forward to talking to Tim.

As if Tim didn’t have enough on his plate. I still had another 3 days to prepare Tim. I decided to tell him tomorrow. I put my phone down and Tim emerged from the bedroom. We met Dick at the coordinates he gave us. Dick left for the night leaving the two of us in charge. Tim had wired the police scanners to our headsets. The night moved slowly.

That was until the 3rd hour.

“10-44. Any units between 4th street and Palmdale?” Tim and I exchanged looks, stolen vehicle. We were only a few minutes out. Tim used his grapple, seeing as we were nearby. I got there a few minutes before him. “How bad is it?” The scanners had grown more chaotic. This wasn’t a normal stolen vehicle situation. We learned that there were children inside the car when it was taken. On top of it all, the driver was intoxicated. “Can you send out an alert and clear the next two blocks?”

“Done.”

I kept up with the vehicle, doing my best to move civilians out of the path. With the alert Tim had sent out. I was going to get inside the vehicle and stop the driver. “He’s approaching a construction site. You’re going in blind, the city hasn’t updated the maps.”

“Send an ambulance, and make sure the police don’t go into construction.”

“Y/N-” Tim’s voice said sternly. He was too far behind to do anything. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” Now that there were no civilians in the way, I was going to have to get the children out first. He was nearing the end of the map. I moved in and saw two children in the backseat. I needed to take them one by one. It was safer, their bodies weren’t meant to undergo high velocities. I needed to protected them from whiplash.

The first child was a beautiful chocolate haired boy. “Okay, where are you Tim?”

“Magnolia.” He replied immediately. I took the boy and ran him to Tim. By time his older brother blinked I was back. I left them both with Tim and rushed back to the driver. By now he knew that something was going on. He sped up. “What are you doing?” Tim’s worried voice came over the headset. “They’re safe.”

“He could get away.” I used every ounce of my stamina to catch up. I caught up and moved inside the car. I tried to take control, but he wasn’t giving up. The site was less than a mile away. As it grew closer, I saw it was the outline of a building.

If he breached the gates he wouldn’t have time to stop. He would drive through the building’s foundation, which wasn’t secure. It would crumble onto of us. His hand moved to the gun he had by his side. He slammed the gun into the side of my head. I felt the warmth trickling down the side of my face. I threw a punch and felt it connect. He fired a shot and moved my head back. He missed. I lifted my head back up and took the gun. and tossed it in the back seat. I looked up, it was too late. We were almost inside the building.

Tim was screaming in my headset. He heard the gunshot. I opened the door and pulled the driver out. I looked in front of us, the building slowly started to crumble. There was still a chance. There was a small opening where the building hadn’t caved in yet.

I had to make a choice. I needed to risk taking him and him slowing me down. Or I could leave him and get out, guaranteed. I had a fraction of a second to decide. I took one look at him and decided to risk it. I held on too him and used all my strength to reach the opening. I was exhausted. Just catching up to him when he was miles ahead had taken it out of me. Now I was bleeding, and drained.

I thought about Tim. Memories of us flashed inside my head. I mustered enough strength to run. I threw the man out and then jumped out of the opening. On impact, I knew something wasn’t okay. I had landed on my shoulder. “Tim.”

He was just outside the gates.

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Luckily my body worked hard to fix the broken bone. Being a speedster came with its perks. Fast metabolism, and healing. By the time Bruce’s proposal came around, my wounds were almost completely healed.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Tim asked once more, hands on either side of my face. “I’m fine Tim. I promise. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He sighed, he had seen the x- rays. Physically I was fine. “Fine but if you start to feel even just a headache, we’re coming back.” I nodded and he looked over my face again.

I stuck out my hand and he placed a kiss on it before intertwining our fingers.

We arrived right on time. Tim’s part of Bruce’s proposal was one of the first points. He had to go set up in Bruce’s office. “I’ll be right back.” He took his files and rushed up to the office. I joined Dick, Jason and Damien in the lounge. “Hello, boys.”

They looked up and Dick’s eyebrow’s knitted together. “Are you even supposed to be out of bed?” I laughed, “Dick it was just my shoulder. I’m fine.” Damian snickered at his brother. Dick looked at between his brothers. Jason had a smirk on his face. “What?”

“Speedster. They heal 20 times faster than us.”

“He got promoted to lead of the biotech department of Wayne Enterprises a few weeks ago.”

The boys bickered. My eyes scanned the room for my father. He was incredibly hard to miss. “I’ll be back.” The boys didn’t even turn in my direction. I walked to the other side of the lounge. He turned to me and then patted his college on the shoulder. He approached me, a big smile on his face. “Hey dad.” He opened his arms and pulled me in for a tight hug. I groaned, “Little too hard.” I gasped and he let go. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you much.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been meaning to visit.” He nodded and looked around. “Where’s Tim?” I pointed to Bruce’s office. “He’s setting up.” My father raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know he was part of the presentation.”

“Wow. That’s fantastic.” He genuinely was impressed. After all he had a background in bio medicine. He knew how hard the work was. “We’ll I’d love to talk to him about it.” I laughed, of course he did. “You can come by our place after and I’m sure he’d talk your ear off.” He turned to me. His eyes narrowing.

Realization struck, and I cursed internally. Eventually I was going to have to tell him, but I was hoping back at home. In front of family and witnesses. Before he could say anything. There was an announcement on the overhead speaker. We were ushered as the presentations were about to begin.

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Tim did fantastic as expected. He kept the crowd engages and said everything perfectly. He approached me as he walked off of the stage. I clapped along with the crowd. He greeted me with a kiss. “You did amazing Tim.” We walked to the back of the room. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone. He gestured for the door. He took my hand and I followed after him. We closed the door behind us and stood in the corridor. Tim let out a deep breath.

He still wasn’t used to speaking in crowds, and this was a lot larger than he was used to. “Are you alright?” He nodded, “I’m glad it’s over.” He moved to take off his tuxedo jacket. I watched as his arms contracted. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms.

He put his jacket over his arm and looked over at me. A small grin on his face. “What?” I shook my head and sighed. “How much longer is this?” He looked at the clock. “We still have another hour.” I looked up at him. His piercing blue eyes were fixated on mine. His hair wast neatly parted down the middle, every strand perfectly combed in place. He moved closer and put his hand over the wall near my head. “What’s got you all flustered Y/N?”

I took a deep breath, my eyes fixated on his lips. “You, Drake.” He smirked and pressed his lips against mine.

Barry looked around the room, and noticed the absence of Y/N and Tim. He turned to Bruce. “Where are they?” Bruce looked around. No sigh of them. He looked at the cameras on his watch. He didn’t see them. Bruce shook his head. The two got up and moved into the lounge. Damian, Jason and Dick were there for security. He knew no one would get past them unnoticed.

“Have either of you seen Y/N and Tim?” Bruce asked. Dick and Jason looked at each other and then shrugged. Bruce sighed, so much for security.

“I think I saw them go-” Damian spoke nonchalantly. He looked in front of him, behind Bruce and Barry Dick and Jason were trying to tell him something. Quite frankly, they looked like idiots. They were shaking their heads violently waving their arms back and forth. Damien squinted as he tried to read the boys lips. Dick mouthed something he couldn’t quite make out. Bruce and Barry exchanged looks, they turned around and saw Dick and Jason conversing casually.

“Damian?” Jason motioned for him to keep his lips zipped. A smirk grew on Damian's face. He wanted to see it all play out.

Dick and Jason tried. They weren’t quite sure what they were up to but they knew it was nothing good. They tried to stay in Tim’s good graces, in the blink of an eye Tim could hack everything they owned. As for Y/N, they knew there would be no escaping. Y/N could catch up to them anywhere. In short, they didn’t want to piss either of them off.

They had noticed their brother couldn’t keep his hands off of his date. They were two hyperactive teenagers, it didn’t take rocket science to figure it out. They watched as Damian’s smirk grew. He hadn’t figured it out but he knew it would get Tim in trouble and that was enough for him. “They went down the hall and up the elevator.” Bruce gave a short nod and the two went off.

“Well, we tried.” Jason shrugged, and took a swing of his drink. He wasn’t going to deny that watching Tim get his ass kicked by a speedster wasn’t funny. “Should’ve choked the little bastard.” Dick sighed, the two could only wait.

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“Tim.” I let out a shaky breath, trying my hardest to keep quiet. “Stop before someone sees!" We were in a building full of people, at any moment someone could walk down the corridor. Tim chuckled against my neck, “You really want me to stop?” I bit my lip, he was right. I didn’t want him to stop. I was just worried about being caught. “The next presentation starts in 10 minutes.”

"Ten? I only need five."

At this point I threw all common sense out of the window. I took his hand and we were in his office in seconds. I had closed the door behind us. Tim smirked, “In my office? You little-” I interrupted him by kissing him. My hands moved from his hair and down to his suit. I quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt, and my hands moved to unbuckle his belt.

Without breaking the kiss i discarded his dress shirt on the floor. His hands moved to remove my clothing. We broke away for a moment to catch our breaths. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. His lips reconnected to mine once more. I straddled his waist and moved against him for friction. My hands moved back down to the waistband of his boxers. I pulled them down and ran my hands up and down his length.

He let out a groan. “Fuck.” He got rid of the rest of my clothes throwing them across his office. I didn’t waste time in scolding him. I lowered myself down onto his length. We both let out a sigh, all of our pent up frustrations released. Tim’s hands moved back to my waist. He lifted me and then slammed me back down onto himself. I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet. His lips moved down to my neck, leaving wet kisses before moving to whisper in my ear. “They’re all down stairs, I want to hear you.”

Tim loved hearing vocalization, he couldn’t get enough. He knew every part of my body. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted. He speed up, and hit just the right spot. I gave in. “Oh god.” We were both breathing heavily. Sounds of pleasure overtook the room. Our bodies moved against each other hungrily. Tim smirked as he moved back to my neck. He moved right to my sweet spot. “Fuck,Tim.”

I dug my nails into his shoulders, leaving small red lines, He pulled away from my neck, satisfied by his work. His lips moved back to mine and speed up again. I felt a growing knot in my stomach each time he moved in and out. Sensing I was close he sat up and took control. He thrusted up into me, over and over, and I grew louder each time. “Please, Tim.” I could feel his thrusts becoming more sloppy, he was close. My orgasm came soon after, my body gave out. I shook against him. He helped me ride out my high. He came and I felt his warmth spread in my core.

“Y/N are you okay-” The door burst open, in the heat of the moment I had forgotten to lock it. Luckily Tim reached for his shirt. He quickly used it to cover me. “I thought you were hurt or dear god.” Barry looked at the ceiling, trying to avert his gaze.

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE!” Bruce’s voice echoed off the walls. Surely the boys down stairs were snickering. “In your office of all places.” He rubbed his hand across his face. Neither of us knew what to say. “Get dressed. Now.” Bruce said sternly before slamming Tim’s office door.

We moved off of each other and tried to find our clothes. Of course Tim in desperation had scattered my clothes. I was kind enough to leave his nicely by the couch. We quickly got dressed and opened the door. Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. Barry glared at Tim.

“Hey dad.” I smiled nervously, he sighed deeply. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m so-”

“Did you finish uploading the files before you-” Bruce couldn’t finish the sentence, Tim pulled the hard drive out his pocket and handed it over. “Go.” He waved us off and I watched as he placed a hand on my father’s chest. I motioned for Tim to go, and I approached my father. Bruce looked between us and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He nodded, a silence washed over us. Neither of us sure what to say. Finally, he broke the silence. “So, you really love him?” I looked back at Tim who was having his talk with Bruce. I smiled and nodded. “I really do.” It gave Barry comfort. He had seen the strength of the connection when he first met Tim a year ago. He knew that they were growing up, it was inevitable. After all, he was a teenager once. He knew what it was like to be deeply in love. For now, all he could do was try and forget this ever happened. Tim approached us. I looked back and forth between the two. For a long moment there was just silence. The two held eye contact. “I expect to see you during the holidays Timothy.” Tim nodded, “Of course sir.”

We went back down stairs. Damian snickered, and Tim shot a glare at his brothers. Dick and Jason pointed to their youngest brother. “If either of you breathe a word...” Tim trailed off, his threat looming. His older brothers nodded. “And you,” He turned to Damian. “I’ll end you.” I placed my hand on Tim’s chest. He backed away and stood up straight. “You know he-”

“Thank you for the drive, you helped save a lot of people.” And with that he was off. Tim breathed a sigh of relief, “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I know. In time, let’s just get through this.” Tim sighed, “Fine.”

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

#Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader smut #tim drake smut #batman #Red Robin #red robin x reader #red robin imagine #red robin smut #red robin x reader smut #batboys #batfamily #Bat Family

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Corpse Infested

Corpse Husband & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of dysfunctional family, Family problems, Swearing

Genre: Humor, Comfort, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When your friend disappears for a long time, seemingly having lost interest in what fueled the most passionate fire in their life, you cannot not worry about them. Even if you wanna give them space, you will reach out, you will offer your help. You will tell them they always have you to rely on and talk to.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request, but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and if you do I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

For me, it’s never hard to find things to do. I’ve constantly got things on my mind and tasks to tend to, keeping me occupied and my mind focused at all times. I think that comes with living in a home as dysfunctional as this one. I honestly can’t recall a time when my parents got along nor can I think of a time where there was at least one second of peace while the two are both present in the house. It’s always a warzone up there. I’m saying up there because I tend to live out of the basement of their home. I know living in your parents’ basement is considered a peak loser point, or the bottom of the bottom, but you’d have to believe me when I say - I wasn’t always like this. In fact, I only recently came back to this hell-hole and boy do I regret it. I mean, it was a decision forced upon me by circumstances. Trust me, I tried every other option there was. When my dorm was to be closed down and demolished, we were given a notice to start planning our next move about a month early. You can bet I immediately started looking at places but my very tragic and miserable budget didn’t allow such a purchase. No rent was adequate for me and my near-empty wallet so my second option was moving in with my best friend who was also not in the greatest of situations but I thought I’d give that a shot too.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t work out. She lived in a tiny apartment with her boyfriend and his best friend at the time, so four people in one apartment was a nightmare. Still a lesser nightmare than this one but a nightmare nonetheless. Some unwanted and downright traumatizing events chased me out of that place after barely managing to pack my stuff. Therefore, finding myself on the streets again, I had no other option other than the obvious and least liked one: moving back in with my parents.

Making money during my first year of college hasn’t been easy. Working two jobs at once and also streaming video games on the side was what my time was filled with all throughout the first semester but then this damn pandemic started and now ruined everything for me. I had things going for me, I was slowly getting my life together and now it has all fallen apart yet again. The places I worked at closed down due to quarantine and I haven’t been able to steam, not only cause I’d be the victim of my parents’ comments but also cause my terrible home life would be exposed to all my fans and viewers. It’s not like I could cancel out the commotion going on right above my head, it’s a livestream and this house’s walls are cardboard thin meaning all the arguing I hear almost 24/7 will serve as background noise for my streams.

I haven’t reached out to my friends or fans to inform them of this which I feel slightly guilty about but I’m really not looking forward to having to lie to them, just as much as I’m not looking forward to having to tell them the truth so instead I’ve picked silence which is probably either worrying them or driving them insane. Either way, I’ll make my comeback soon.

Well....not very soon by the looks of it...

I have to gather the money, then I have to find a place, then comes the packing, moving out of here, moving into the new place...oh God, there’s so much to it that I don’t even wanna think about. Just that thought that I’ll be inactive for that long makes my stomach turn. Streaming’s where I’ve been channeling all my negative emotions, turning them into something positive and entertaining with the help of my friends.

Speaking of my friends, I should probably put emphasis on how amazing they are. Basically the older siblings I’ve always wished I had. I’m the baby of the group, the eighteen year old freshman in college, powering through life the best they can cause they are constantly getting tripped up by inconvenient occurrences such as this one for example. I tend to have the gang poke fun at me quite frequently - all lighthearted and with good intentions obviously - but they are also the ones to get super defensive if anyone gets the balls to talk shit about me. They’d never allow me to be the victim of any smack talk or online rumors and ‘cancel culture’ or whatever the hell people will come up with to leave others restless and wondering if they did something shady a decade ago. Well, to be fair, I didn’t even know about the concept of social media a decade ago and I’ve never been one to post much but I still have a protection squad in case anyone decides to come after me.

Little do they know the people I need protecting from are the very people that are supposed to protect me - my parents. Luckily, they don’t venture into to basement very often if at all and I have my own exit to the outside world so I don’t have to run into them unless I absolutely have to. The only time I emerge to the surface of the house - aka the ground floor - I do so to leave my share of rent money on the dining table and I usually do it when they aren’t home or when they’re asleep - that happens often with how many bottles they each knock back on the daily.

*sigh*...at least I don’t have to talk to them, right?

Anyhow, remember how I mentioned I always have things to do? Well, right now I’ve tasked myself with rifling through the large boxes containing random stuff I found in one of the basements down here to see if there’s anything I could possibly sell online. For starters, I’d like to hope there aren’t any severed body parts in here because this was one shady-ass basement before I moved in and un-creeped it a bit so I wouldn’t have to become an insomniac due to the paranoia of there being a homeless person down here with me or some paranormal entity. Regardless, old basements tend to be, apart from haunted, also filled with junk no one would find valuable despite it actually being worth something after all. That’s basically what I’m hoping to find at the moment.

As I dig through the contents of the first box, the YouTube playlist I have put on on my phone cuts off causing me to furrow my brows in confusion for a second before my ringtone pierces the silence the lack of music created.

I quickly mute the ringing and take a look at the Caller ID to see a name I never thought would pop up on my screen as an incoming call - Corpse. I, as well as many of our friends, know that he’s not the biggest fan of talking to people on the phone so this is rather surprising. Still, I pick up the call in case it’s not a mistake and an odd chance that it’s somethin urgent cause Lord knows Corpse doesn’t call people willy-nilly.

Thank God it’s quiet up there at the moment.

“Hello?“ I try my best to cover up the confusion in my voice but I can only assume I didn’t do the best job considering Corpse replies with a slightly awkward chuckle.

“Surprised you, didn’t I?“ He asks, getting my cheeks to redden a bit, “You can’t blame a guy for calling after up and disappearing on him and on the whole internet. Where’ve you been?“

I open my mouth to respond when I hear the sound of glass breaking a shouted curse from upstairs.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

“Um...you know, places?“ I’m aware the answer isn’t only nonsensical but also sounds more like a question, but I can hardly focus on that right now. I’m too buys praying to an entity I don’t fully believe in for the situation above to not escalate.

“Uh, is everything ok over there? Where even are you right now?“ The teasing tone to his voice is all but gone at this point, replaced with deep concern, having obviously heard the commotion that did the exact opposite of what I prayed for - escalated.

“Y-yeah, it’s ok. It’s just another Thursday, you know.“ I attempt a small laugh but it’s blatantly miserable, “I moved back in with my parents when they announced the quarantine so that’s where I’m at now. They’re not the quietest of folks as you can tell so...“

“I FUCKING HATE YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HOPE YOU DIE“

Oh crap, here we go.

“...So I can’t really stream a lot...or at all.“ I mutter, cringing with all my might, “But it’s only temporary! I’ll get back in the saddle as soon as I find another place to stay.“ I don’t dare mention how long that’s gonna take me, it’ll be too disappointing and depressing for the both of us. “So yeah...um...thanks for showing concern but there’s really nothing to worry about. I’m ok, everything’s ok, things are just...a bit off the rails, but I’ll fix em no problem. Like I always do!“ I attempt to sound as cheerful as possible with little success due to the overwhelming anger I feel towards those people upstairs and the gut-wrenching nostalgia for the world of streaming I can no longer be a part of because of them. Actually, I put the blame first on the pandemic and second on my parents - if it wasn’t for Covid I’d probably still be in my dorm!

“Hey...um, I think I know an affordable place where you can take up residence. Only if you want to, of course.“ He sounds hesitant but I easily overlook that as excitement bursts throughout my entire being at the sound if an escape being offered to me just like that. Had I known I’d find the solution to my problem in the very people I spent time avoiding because I was afraid of their pity, sympathy and judgement.

“Oh please, it could be a rat and roach infested shoe box and I’d go running to it. How much is rent?“ I ask through a gasp of hurried laughter that’s a result of my inability to contain said excitement. Listen, I’ve been sitting here in Hellsburg for three months now and haven’t gotten a proper shuteye during that whole period, whatever Corpse is offering has to be better than this misery.

“Rent can be discussed once you move in...“ He trails off, “And it’s not rat nor roach infested but there’s a slight issue...“

“Which is?“ I’m honestly expecting the worst: in a bad neighborhood; faulty wiring with a high chance of being electrocuted; faulty piping with a high chance of flooding; people have died there; things get randomly moved around in the middle of the night etc. However, I don’t voice any of them to avoid getting laughed at for my wild imagination.

“Well, uh, it’s corpse infested.“ He says a little awkwardly, causing me to let out an inaudible sigh.

So my ‘people have died there’ guess was on point, huh?

“People have died there, huh? Well, I can turn a blind eye to that as long as I don’t find their bodies in the closet or meet their spirits at 3AM.“ I attempt to joke, now second-guessing my eagerness to accept the offer.

Corpse bursts out laughing his ass off at my statement, getting me to furrow my eyebrows in confusion and wonder what I said was so funny - it was a poor attempt at a joke, it in no way deserves that sort of reaction, barely a chuckle in my opinion.

“You’re golden, Y/N, I swear.“ He says once he forces the laughter to subside, “I meant corpse infested as in Corpse Husband infested.“ He breaks out in another fit as my brain slowly starts connecting the dots.

Oooohh he’s asking me to go live with him

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, hold up for a sec. Are you aware of what you’re offering me? I mean, we’ve never met IRL, you barely know me and....and for all you know I could be the serial killer in this situation!“ I have no idea why I’m pushing my luck, don’t ask. I just don’t want him to make a decision he’ll later regret, I guess. “Like, I could kill you in your sleep!“

“Would you?“ He asks confidently, silently stating he already knows the answer.

I roll my eyes, “Of course not! But...” He cuts me off.

“Great, the offer stands on my end. I’m not a noisy nor nosey roommate so I suggest you start packing. If you choose to live in that hell-hole over living with me, I’m sorry but I’ll be hella offended, just so you know.“

Corpse sounds like he’s about to hang up on me, a decision already made, so I hurry to stop him. “Wait! What about rent?”

“Fuck the rent, pack your bags.“ And just like that, despite my efforts, he hangs up on me.

Well...this is a chance of a lifetime that I know refusing would lead me to not only remain stuck here but also put me in the hugest loser bin. There’s also the fear of being Corpse’s burden which I’ll try my best not to be - I mean, I’m a super independent person and Lord knows that if this offer came any other time or from any other person, I would’ve declined asap, no discussion.

But streaming

But sleeping properly

But having a normal life again

Yeah those are most certainly the reasons I get up and go into the closet in search on my emptied suitcase. Time to fill it up again, I guess. This time with a smile on my face and excitement fueling each and every movement of mine.

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mellow-em · 3 years ago

Text

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 1

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The murky layers of clouds that filled the grey afternoon sky, mutated into the clear blend of colors of the evening sunset.

I rolled the windows down over an hour ago, to let in the crisp breeze of the night to keep myself awake. It really was the longest drive of my entire life. Though, even if it had been drawn out to extremes thanks to the traffic on the highways, it was relaxing nonetheless.

I spin the steering wheel slightly, finally turning into my neighborhood. I let out an exasperated yawn, feeling my whole body yearning to be in my comfy bed again. I was tremendously exhausted.

I looked around at the strips of houses lining both sides of the road; because it had been around 7pm, lights remained visible within the windows, and families were most likely eating dinner.

Our neighborhood was known for being tranquill, that is, when you first enter anyway. The farther down you drive, the more lively it gets. My parents and I happened to live right towards the end of the street, where everybody knew everyone.

From when I was little all the way into highschool, we’d have block parties, barbecues, and random get togethers every chance we could get. Those would last for hours, leading into the am sometimes. It was chaotic most of the time, but I enjoyed it.

Not even a moment later I find myself in front of my house, pulling into the driveway with one swift turn in. I couldn’t even put the car in park before I heard an uproar by the front door, causing me to stifle a laugh and shake my head.

It’s definitely gonna be a long night.

I roll all of the windows up before shutting the car off, stashing my keys away into the side pocket of my shorts. While pushing the door open with my feet, I look up to see both of my parents awaiting to engulf me into a hug.

A warm smile rises on my face as I hug them back.

“We’ve missed you honey,” my mom softly said in my ear, smoothing my hair down before kissing the top of my head.

The hug had met its demise, and I turned around to look at the mountains of boxes overflowing within the backseat and the trunk of my car.

I inaudibly sigh in my head, knowing how time consuming this is going to be. Luckily mother could probably sense my vexation.

“Your father and I were gonna help you whether you liked it or not, so come on.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry that drive just killed me.”

She looked at me with a knowing expression on her facial features, “This is why I told you we should’ve helped you with heading home.”

I rolled my eyes, “And I insisted that I could take care of it myself,” I walked around to the other side as each of us opened the other doors to the car to start unloading my stuff.

She chuckled, dismissing me with a shake of her head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let's start getting this done so you can go to sleep,” she paused behind me with a box wedged in her hands, “ cause your walkin’ around looking like a damn zombie.”

I scoffed jokingly, “ Ha ha ha, very funny.”

“Get to it y/n!” she called out from inside of the house.

I rolled my eyes yet again while lifting a fairly large pack that held my toiletries, and released a frustrated huff.

The thoughts of the future began to boil in my brain again, creating that oh so familiar, awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I knew for a fact that I couldn’t stay at my parents house for longer than a year, meaning I was going to have to figure all of my shit out within that time frame. Although it may seem like a lifetime away, the rest of my life was really on the line here.

And I couldn’t begin to admit how scared I really was.

Damn I feel like I’m being so unbelievably dramatic.

“Y/n, are you still alive over there?” The distant muffles I barely heard over me mentally walking down memory lane, became crystal clear.

My head jerked up abruptly, as I let out a small yelp, “What?”

I notice my dad in front of me, with two containers filled with my clothes, and a small bag stacked on top of one another in his hands.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, kiddo.”

“It's fine, I- what were you saying?”

We started to travel slowly towards the steps to the front porch, as he spoke, “I was sayin’ that we're gonna be having a small get together to celebrate you being back home tomorrow night.”

“Your small get-togethers are never just small dad, do you remember your 40th birthday? You had almost the same amount of people over as the block parties.”

He snickered, “Hey, what can I say, I’m just a popular guy,” the both of us enter the house as he turns to me again, “But I will say, it will more than likely be small. You’re just gonna see a few new faces in the mix.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, “Wait what? Do we have new neighbors or something?”

The both of us walk up the stairs to my room, and place the boxes alongside the wall opposite of my bed.

“Something like that,” he pats my shoulder and hurries out the door to the hallway, leaving me even more confused, “Why do you insist on being so cryptic all the time?”

“I’m gonna get the rest of your stuff!”

I groaned, crashing into the plush comforter that was laying neatly on the bed beneath me. With no delay, my eyelids leisurely closed, and I eventually doze off.

______________________

Heat radiated from my body as I woke from a peaceful sleep. I shifted uncomfortably a few times, feeling the sweat sticking to my body.

No matter how hard I try, sleeping in the heat of this room is going to be like trying to sleep in a damn sauna. Useless.

I rolled over, with the pitch black atmosphere through the windows, and around me, taking up most of my vision.

It’s probably in the middle of the damn night.

I lifted my arm slightly to let my hand feel around the bed, in search of my phone to check the time.

Just my luck, my fucking phone is missing.

I look over to the other side of the room, where the unpacked boxes and containers remained stacked by the wall. The slight glare of the moon's reflection was hitting something on top of the windowsill.

“There you are,” the words fumbled out of my mouth sleepily, while I slowly rose from what felt like my puddles of sweat on the sheets. Stumbling in the process, I made my way over to what was thankfully my phone laying down in the moonlight.

The illumination of the screen screamed at my eyes, causing me to look away for a second, “shit that was bright.”

I adjust my eyes to the light to see the clock on the top of the screen:

3:28am

“Great. Well at least I got some sleep.” I toss my phone across the room, hearing it thump onto the side of my bed.

A wave of heat ran across my arms and legs, reminding me of why I woke up in the first place, “I’m not gonna take the chance of melting any more tonight.”

I reach over to unhinge the latch on top of the window next to me, and open it halfway. A gust of polar air simmered around me almost immediately, swiftly cooling me off to satisfaction.

I close my eyes, letting the nightly winds blow over me, with a relaxed smile forming on my face.

My small moment of tranquility was rudely interrupted by a splash from outside.

My eyes jolted open, and I instantly lurch my head up to look in that direction. To my surprise, the lights were on over Nate and Elena’s; the pool lights.

“Why would-?”

I knew for a fact that it wasn’t Nathan or Elena, knowing that they have a child on the way. Both of them were guaranteed to be asleep.

So who the hell is using their pool at 3 in the damn morning? That question replayed in my head as I stared out towards the pool, waiting to see the whoever it could possibly be.

As if on cue, I watched as the figure emerged from the pool, and a man slowly stepped out while using the ladder at the edge.

Just like that, it felt that I didn't have control anymore. My curious eyes wandered; lingering all over him.

He wore black swim trunks that were snug on his thighs in all the right places. They sunk down to the lower half of his hips, exposing his very visible trail of hair on the lower half of his abdomen.

The more I drank of him, the more it affected me.

His chest hair glistened from the pool water that began streaming down his abs. My eyes found themselves trickling over his toned biceps, and his scattered variety of tattoos that took up only a few spots on his body.

I knew I had to look away, but I couldn’t.

I finally looked up at his face.

Holy fuck.

The lower half of his face was lined perfectly with stubble, with his seemingly soft lips as the centerpiece. I traveled up his face, noticing the wrinkles that were sketched sparingly across his features.

He ran his hand through his soaked locks of hair that partially hung in front of his face, with his muscles flexed to an extreme. He wandered over to the table and chairs that were by the edge of the pool area; that was much closer to my window.

After reaching for the towel, he rubbed it through his hair, and started drying the rest of his body with it. Him doing so caused me to look him up and down once again. I looked down to his feet, and up to his head.

Only this time around, I was met with his eyes.

I felt an overwhelming surge of panic, but I was stuck in place. I felt trapped, with no escape from this whatsoever.

I’m such an idiot. I mentally scolded myself for letting my lustful curiosity get the best of me.

The reprimands within my mind were sliced in half, as a sly smirk traced over his lips, creating a few more layers of wrinkles upon his cheeks.

This could be chalked up to be the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced.

I couldn’t decide on whether to focus on his lips or his eyes; it was becoming way too much to handle. I did a frantic dance between the two.

Coincidentally, as soon as our eyes met a final time, one of his eyelids opened and closed in one smooth motion, all while his stare remained fixated on me.

Did he really just do that? Did he just fucking wink at me?

I finally got the stamina to duck away from the window and onto the floor, with my back pressed against my former dorm room cases, and my breathing becoming more irregular by the second

What the fuck just happened?

#sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #Uncharted 4 #uncharted fanfiction

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thedistantdusk · 3 years ago

Text

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

#harry/ginny #harry/ginny fanfic #fanfic #x-files #harry potter fanfiction

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lareinenoir · 3 years ago

Text

THE PURGE; Sanctuary C.E x black reader

PT III

60 Days Until The Purge

THEN...

"I'll order take out. I know you like Thai-"

"Don't order anything. I'm actually not even hungry." You said as he took your bag and put it on his shoulder. "What?" He was looking at you weird and it made you frown.

"Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"You asked me to stay the night. That is my overnight bag." You replied folding your arms and walking over to the couch. Your hand touched your forehead and you sighed. You could still feel him looking at you as you tried to relax with your head leaned back. "After I tell Shonda about our situation, you're signing the papers."

"What do you mean-"

"You know what I mean." You shot back

"Ok, well theirs a lot to consider now." He motioned to your stomach and you sat up straight. "We're having a baby, now."

"No no no." You shook your head feeling your petty insides bubble a bit in sarcasm. "I'm having a baby. Me. Just me.”

"Obviously I want to be apart of our baby's life." Chris argued back and you frowned and scoffed. He put your bag down and crossed his arms as you brushed it off. "You can't seriously think I won't. V that's insane."

"You wanna know what's insane? You think you're gonna get anywhere near it. Why in the hell would I allow you and your broken promises anywhere near my child? Do you think I'm stupid? To make the same mistake twice!"

"Again? V what do you want me to do?" He asks throwing his hands up. "Acting is what I do, that's my job-"

"I don't care about that. I'm not asking you to chose your job or me-"

"It damn well near sounds like it. I would never make you choose." He countered back and you gripped your fists together.

"You may not have said it directly, but there have been many times where you have indirectly patronized me. I just found out I'm pregnant and I have been trying so hard to deal with it." you replied watching him pace back and forth and shake his head. "I have been getting the worst headaches, I can't keep any food down and I literally get lightheaded on set every single day because hiding my pregnancy has been a real joy ride." You replied sarcastically with a small chuckle

"What do you want me to do? I tell you to tell the producers, you get mad. I tell you to take a break, you get mad. I tell you to come over and you’re mad.” Chris said in disbelief. “I don't know what you want from me." He shrugs brushing the hair from his eyes.

"Not once since you found out have you asked me how I'm doing? My whole career is at risk I could lose my job. And you don't even seem to care.” You said

"V, I do care." He reached for your shoulder and you took in another breath. "I want you to stop worrying all the time. And you're right, I should be concerned more about you. I should be there for you-I should've been there for you in the beginning.” He admitted and you folded your lips again.

Are For real this time? Should I let it go and move past it? Again? No because it'll start all over again.

"This baby is mine. This is a life changing thing that's happening, I can't let you ruin it too." You spoke

" I'm taking responsibility because this is something I want. Ok? Can't we find some common ground? You of all people should know what it's like to grow up without a father!"

"You know too!" You shouted back. Chris' dad had died when he was younger. He talked about him sometimes but not as much. "I'd rather have had my father six feet under then to have him choosing when it's convenient for him to show up!" You said with your foot down shaking your head.

"Forget the divorce. Me and you living here happily married for the years to come. Whats so bad about that? Why can't I have that? What's so wrong with the picture of two parents raising a child?" His voice was loud and he was getting frustrated. He didn't shout, but you could tell how passionate he was about it. He always wanted to be a daddy, a parent. "Huh?"

"It's not just about you!" You said stepping closer. "Because..." You shrugged feeling your eyes water as you suck in your cheeks. "I knew the kind of man I was marrying. So involved with his job it took him almost fifteen years to actually start dating. It's not about you or your career. This baby is all I have right now.”

He looked confused as he relaxed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose. From two feet away you could feel his heartbeat and you felt a little bad for how foolish you probably looked. You still loved him, not like you ever stopped, but you remembered that you still loved him.

Because, it's not about me either anymore. You thought

"Forget the papers okay..." You said swallowing your own pride. "just forget it. You’re right. I want our child to have two parents who will love him unconditionally. But it has to stop, because it takes two. I can't have you with one foot in the door." You admitted

“Yeah yeah.” He nodded “yeah I get that. I’m not going anywhere.” Chris said and you walked forward and took his hand kissing his palm as you placed it on the side of your face. “I promise V.” He cups your face and stares into your eyes. His stubble poking at you a bit as you held his wrists.

“I love you.” You said with a small smile

“Still?” He laughed making you roll your eyes as you giggled a little. “I love you too. Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” He asks again

“Yes.” You nodded “now shut up and come take a nap with me.”

NOW....

CHRIS POV**

“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” I said throwing the phone on the couch. I had called five times and her phone went straight to voicemail.

“This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. ALL Weapons have been authorized for use during the purge. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 121 days. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until December 15, 12:00 o’clock midnight, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America... A nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

My tv was replayed the message nine more times before shutting off. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Today is august 15, Vanessa’s birthday is tomorrow which was when she’d be 17 weeks. We had marked it on the calendar together. More than half my wife’s pregnancy would be spent during the purge. I needed to find her!

I didn’t support the purge. Something about killing people to be “cleansed” just didn’t sit right in my gut. It made my heart ache thinking about the clean up at the end. I could bring Dodger, but he can only do so much. Maybe he could help track her scent. Grabbing my coat I folded my lips together.

“Fuck!” I shout

With what weapon? How was I going to run the streets looking for my wife without a gun? I loved the idea of owning one, but Vanessa made me swear not to bring one in the house if she was there. So I just dropped the idea. Looking in the kitchen I grabbed one of the Chef knives off the rack. Maybe this would be enough for now...

“Damnit!” I curse looking at Dodger. “She said she was at Topanga Park. Start there?” I asked, as if he’d answer back. I grabbed her bonnet from off the bathroom door handle and stuffed it in my backpack.

I didn’t hesitate l. I locked up everything and jumped inside my truck. Dodger sat on the passenger side and I felt my hands start to shake as I put my foot on the gas. I started to promise god I would go to church if he would keep her safe.

“I don’t even know if you’re even listening or you even care. I love her, I’ve been such and idiot and I don’t wanna lose her.” I looked at Dodger and he was sitting up straight. “I remember you didn’t like her. You wouldn’t let her anywhere near me, you bark and squeeze yourself in between us when we sat down in the room to watch movies.” I chuckle wiping the little tear that slipped from my eye “You stole one of her wigs too.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” she shouted chasing you around the house. “DODGER GIVE IT BACK! COME BACK!”

We chased him around the house and Dodger thought it was some sort of game. We had been officially dating for a month. I had started laughing when I caught him and held her headband wig in my hand. She stood their with her arms folded while I petted his head and she rolled her eyes.

"I told you he doesn't like me." She said as I stood up and she took the wig from my hand.

"Come on, he's just getting used to you."

"I've been over here every day. Your dog hates me."

"What?" I tilted my head to the side and touch her nose with my index finger. "Deal breaker? If my dog doesn't like my girlfriend, I'm gonna dump her? Tell me where that makes sense."

She walked closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist looking up at the ceiling as I kissed her neck. "I guess you have a point." Vanessa sighed.

"He's just warming up to you that's all."

"What's stopping me from breaking up with you?"

"Over a dog?"

"This is his third assault against me. First it was tearing up my purse, then chewing up my crocs, not to mention the little shit I found inside of them. And now stealing my wig and playing cat and mouse." Said Vanessa as I rested my head on top of hers. "Luckily this is a backup wig."

“Aren’t you wearing one right now?” I asked

“Headband wig. And that wig your dog has destroyed,” she gave him the side eye “it was my favorite and expensive.” She gritted her teeth

“I’ll buy you another one.” I offered

She purses her lips and shook her head. “I don’t want you buying me anything. I’ll just break up with you. For real this time.”

"Fine then..." I baited her shrugging my shoulders. "Break up with me."

“Over a dog?” She frowns mocking me as I smile down at her and her eyebrows bend downward a little as she caressed my face. Her finger was gentle and she stood on her top toes and kissed my lips. “Never.”

...

I look over at Dodger and pat his head. "We'll find her. I know we will." I say trying to lift my spirits.

When we arrived to Topanga Park, it was a sight. I didn't even want to leave the truck. I felt my heart race a little more. "What the hell..."

In the middle of traffic-in between the cars were bodies. Dodger started barking at the train of blood that stained the streets. It was empty, but I could feel a heavy weight on my back. Walking behind me, next to me...it was all around me. I hadn't realized I had my hand over my mouth an nose, it was hard for me to breath as the stench of dead bodies. Dodger kept barking and that led to me chasing after him. I had her bonnet in one hand and I called after him.

I came to a halt when I came face to face with another person. He had Dodger in his hands and I felt my muscle tense up. He was tall and very familiar looking. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held the kitchen knife in my hand with a firm grip.

"Captain America?"

I tilted my head sideways and licked my lower lip narrowing my brow a little. "Yeah, give me the dog and we can go our separate ways. Ok?"

He nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and put the dog down. I wasn't really concerned about who he was I was trying to prepare for a fight. He dropped his gun on the ground and held up his his hand.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm looking for my wife." He said "She left her watch in that building." He pointed to the school and slowly pulled the watch from his pocket.

"In there?" I asked

"Yeah." He nodded, but I still couldn't shake the feeling I knew him from somewhere. "My name is Jared. My wife's name is Gianne, I'm pretty sure she was with someone else-are you looking for someone too? Maybe we could help each other. There was something written on the chalkboard in there, I wasn't something Gia would write, but she was here. All I wanna do is find her-"

"Supernatural?" I asked turning my head to the side. Vanessa loved that show. Whenever she had spare time she would watch it or on those many night she'd spend the night at my house we would watch it-well not really watch it. The Netflix and 'chill' was emphasized. "You said something about some sort of message on the wall?" I asked motioning with my hand. "what did it say?"

"um, CE equals BE or something like that." He shrugged

I laughed a little. Vanessa Evans plus Chris Evans equals Baby Evans. It was a stupid joke-an Easter egg if you will. Shonda put in the show on the whiteboard in one of our love scenes as a way to announce our pregnancy to the audience. She often left clues to the next episode in every episode except this one was not only in the show but in real life.

"Chris Evans." I say extending my hand out to him. I'm pretty sure he knew by the little smile playing on his face. He shook my hand and nodded his head.

"I know. I'm a big marvel fan, I know all your lines." Jared chuckled and then cleared his throat as he nervously laughed. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jared Padalecki - I know I said that already..."

I introduced him to Dodger and I felt a little more relaxed. I gathered that she was alive and we both came to the assumption that they were traveling together.

"Where do you think their headed?" I asked as we walked to his car which was tricked out and full of ammunition and guns. Not to mention government level protective gear.

"While I was in there, I picked up someone else. Heavy footed and big, traveling with dogs. Hair everywhere." He went on tossing me a bullet proof vest. "You heard of Sanctuary?"

"The safety place? Yeah, but it's hard to find. It's for people who get caught in the Purge right?"

He narrowed his brow and shook his head. "No." Said Jared sharply. "Sanctuary is a secret government funded task force. It started off as a conspiracy some myth to explain all the random disappearances throughout the year. It's a government project designed for population control." He went on

"Ok...what does that have anything to do with the Purge?"

"Everything. An organization designed to control the US population. We're talking Pro killers who were once on a leash, but when that horn sounded and the Purge began, they are just as free to kill anyone they want." Said Jared handing me an ipad. It was a list of celebrities. From pro athletes like Steph Curry and their immediate families to movie stars and singers like Rhianna and Tom Cruise. "There are rumors that they are hunting celebrities. The kardashians and Jenner's are fair game. If not the stars themselves then they choose their parents, brothers and sisters."

"And do what?" I asked quietly as I saw mine and Vanesssa picture

"Most get auctioned off to the highest bidder, I've also heard they kill them on the spot for money or bring them in to fight for the death. Bottom line, there is a bounty on our heads. During the Purge everyone is fair game, their is no protection."

"You're telling me she's out there being hunted by them right now?" I asked

“Possibly. The dog hair isn’t a breed we know. They are a combination of hunting canines, bloodhound, foxhound, Labrador retriever with the built and aggression of a something like a pit bull a Rottweiler.” Said Jared as I looked up from the iPad and gave it back. “You’re gonna need more than a kitchen knife. We find the dogs and the hunter and we’ll find them.”

He held a gun out to me and wiped my mouth with the palm of my hand trying to mentally prepare for what is to come."

“Do you believe in the Purge?” I asked still questioning why his car was full of weapons. “You kill people?”

He nodded his head. “Yes. I don’t believe in hiding or waiting for someone to kill me. We all have the right to Purge."

"What's stopping you from killing me?"

Jared sighed and shook his head. "I'm hunting them. I'm surviving and if you decide to threaten my survival, then I'll kill you." He went over to the driver side of his Ford charger. "Get in. Knowing Gia she is headed for Roberts hole."

"What's that?" I asked climbing in the passenger seat of the car.

“It’s a Cassino for celebrities. Jack Black owns it. It’s locked up right but open to his favorites during the Purge.”

“They’ll be there?”

“Relax.” He out his hand in my shoulder and looked at me as dodger sat in the back seat. “We will find them. You know how to shoot don’t you?” Jared raised his gun in the air and nodded my head.

I guess it wasn’t confidently and he chuckled. “Vanessa isn’t a fan of guns.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll practice. Ok?”

A/N: Sorry it took so long😬 don’t hate me, please. Lol, I hope everyone is doing well and safe out here. If you wanna be tagged leave it in the ask box, Anyways…Untill next time!

Tags!

@Tantricevans

@rosey1981

@toni9

@onceuponahuntersrealm

@pm-my-hubbies

@Cynthetic

@liqourlaughslove

@melaninfalconbucky

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

#chris evans x black women #fangirls #fanfiction #fans #chris evans #fanfics #chris evans fluff #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #the purge: sanctuary #the purge fanfic #the purge au #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans imagine #imagines #the purge #pregnant reader

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btsmosphere · 4 years ago

Text

Across the Tracks | KTH

~summary: Don’t cross the tracks. Never once did you question what you had been told your whole life – at least not until a certain boy makes that a bit more difficult...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | drabble

~pairing: taehyung x reader (she/her) ~word count: 7.1k ~dystopian au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, inspired by lady and the tramp ~rating: pg15 ~warnings: adoption, dystopia, violence, breaking and entering, arrest, electric shocks, burns, scars, swearing, probable overuse of the nickname ‘pidge’ oop

~a/n: hi guys, and thank you to everyone being so kind about the first part!! Again, cr to the wonderful, amazing @un2-verse for the initial idea, ilyy! Now, to everyone, enjoy the fic and don’t hesitate to come chat with me about it🥰

You weren’t exactly aware of moving. The moment you came to your senses was the same that your thick plastic bracelet connected with the back of a skull.

Still staring in shock at the figure that crumpled to all fours before you, you didn’t spare a moment to see as the other assailant was thrown off. The man was weakly moving, but the remnants of your fear mingling with the horror of your situation left a nasty taste in your mouth.

Meanwhile, your rescuer had turned their attention to you.

“Hey,” the familiarity of the voice was still lost on you, “hey, pidge?”

A hand landing on your shoulder finally forced your eyes to drift away from the man on the floor, currently stirring and groaning. When you faced Taehyung, it was to find soft, dark eyes watching you with a hint of concern.

Glancing back at the two men on the ground, Taehyung showed you his side profile for a second.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” his voice remained low, cautious.

He waited for you to go first, so you carefully stepped around the men, staying as far away from them as possible. Back in the connecting alley, you had to wait for Taehyung to reach your side to know where to go.

“What are you doing out here, huh, pidge?” he eyed you as you set off beside him.

Since you had started moving again, your hand had naturally gravitated over your shocker again, and you glanced down at it now.

“I… got lost,” your voice was small.

“You don’t strike me as the type to be anywhere near here, cub,” he spoke, deep voice cutting off for a moment as he peered around a corner before leading you down it, “so how’d you get lost?”

“I, um…” trailing off, you turned your eyes to the ground. How to tell him that you had run off like a child?

But he was alerted by your silence, looking back down at you.

“Pidge?”

“I- it was my fault-“ you started, throwing your hands out in defeat.

Taehyung stopped in his tracks beside you, startling you to halt as well. Though his hand began to reach out, slowly, he seemed to think twice and dropped it. Either way, you realised what he had noticed, the cause for his shock.

“They didn’t…” his head shook almost imperceptibly.

But you had already drawn back, pulling your handicapped wrist firmly into your chest, somehow self conscious under his sad stare.

Barely a blink, however, and the agonising stinging was shooting through you again. Involuntary cry leaving your lips, your knees seemed to give up as the electricity burned you.

But instead of meeting the stony ground, your body fell against another, two hands hurriedly pulling you against him by your upper arms. As the shock subsided, the ground returning to your feet, you pulled away. Your form still shook.

Gulping back the tears that had been startled to your eyes, you avoided his captivating gaze.

“You were right,” you sniffed

In the corner of your eye, you saw his hand lift. One finger brushed gently up your cheek, clearing back the hair that had fallen across it.

“I didn’t want to be, pidge,” his deep voice was like velvet, coating something so sad. “Let me see?”

Patiently, he waited until you eased the arm away from your chest. As you held it out, his fingers ghosted against your skin, just to hold the hand in place. Training his eyes intently on the device, he rotated your wrist.

At the same moment as him, you spotted the crack running up the plastic. A short laugh escaping as he looked up at you, Taehyung’s breath blew onto your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“You did good, little cub,” he chuckled, “his head’s gonna hurt. But we gotta get this off.”

“Do you know how?”

Tilting his head, he seemed to give it some thought. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he looked down the alleyway, although when you followed his gaze you saw nothing.

“…yeah, I might have an idea,” he eventually nodded.

In a flash, a grin lit up his face, erasing the seriousness of before. Setting off again, your eyes widened as his hand slipped down from your wrist to grip your own.

Swallowing, you hurried after him, trying not to think too much about it.

In the end, you were quite glad for his touch. The neighbourhood he led you through made you uneasy; even more delapidated houses lined the streets, water splashing at each corner where the pipes were invariably broken, more graffiti littering the brickwork.

So although your eyes couldn’t help but wander, peering down every turn and darting to any small sound, you stuck close to his grounding presence.

Winding further through this unknown part of the city, the drizzle never ceased. Thankful for the brisk pace you were travelling at, you tried to control your shivering, clamping your jaw shut to stop your teeth chattering. Your blouse was all that protected you from the air, and it was being plastered against your skin.

However, Tae’s eyes missed nothing. Between checking the streets around you, he periodically looked back to you at his side.

When his hand first pulled away from yours, your fingers chased desperately after his, not wanting to lose a fraction of warmth.

“Hey,” he laughed, “don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Instead, he shook his arms from his black coat. Not waiting for you to take it, he dropped it directly onto your shoulders. As you shoved your arms inside, the warmth made you sigh.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he grinned, hand landing on your shoulder as he turned to look ahead. “We’re here.”

In front of you stood an enormous building. Large chimneys rose from its roof towards the sky. The dark of the walls seemed even blacker than the night, floodlights positioned periodically along its large perimeter fence doing little to illuminate the place.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Tae stood in front of you, throwing his arms out, inviting you to admire the place.

But you only eyed the man in front of you, his midnight hair dripping a little onto his black clothes. Not that he seemed to care, equally dark eyes glittering as he grabbed your hand again and practically jogged onwards.

“What are we doing?” you hissed.

Tracking his way along the fence, he suddenly stopped in front of you, not bothering to answer.

“After you.”

The way he bowed, twirling his hands, made him seem like a butler. However, there was no fancy entrance to match; he was ushering you through a narrow hole in the fence, raw ends of wire snaking inwards.

You looked back and forth at the boy, those eyes watching you hopefully, and the tear in the fence.

Sighing, you slipped through, only catching the hem of your trousers before safely emerging.

“Where are we?” you whispered as Tae joined your side.

“This is the car factory,” he said, “it’s going to get that shocker off.”

“Oh,” you frowned stepping forwards-

Only to have a hand stop you.

“Stay close to the fence,” he warned, easing you back so you walked between him and the perimeter.

Although your feet trailed after him, your heartbeat near enough doubled when you noticed his secrecy. This was not something you should be doing.

“We’re- we’re breaking in?!” you exclaimed, wary of your volume.

A smirk met you as Tae looked over his shoulder.

“Why, does that scare you, pidge?”

But as you spluttered for a response, another jolt of electricity shot down your arm.

Yelping, you clutched at the fence beside you. When you opened your eyes, all traces of playfulness had disappeared from Taehyung’s face – instead, he was closer, hands reaching for you as he lowered to your eye level, searching for your gaze.

Finding you staring back, his eyes darted down to the heavy shocker on your arm.

“You wanna get that off, don’t you?”

A shaky breath left you.

“Yes…”

“Then follow me.”

Taehyung had promised to be back.

Still nestled in his coat, your fingers fidgeted as you kept your eyes on the patch of darkness he had faded into. Maybe he’s going to leave you, your mind spun in circles, he’ll steal something and leave you to take the blame.

Your heart knocked steadily against your ribs, no sound louder than your breathing and the light spatter of drizzle.

You already knew he had a history with the controllers, and this didn’t look good for you. But, glancing nervously behind you at the gaping blackness that lay down every alley, you knew you would fare no better if you left either.

Teeth trapping your lower lip, you hunched your shoulders and kept waiting.

It wasn’t too long untill a loud wail cut through the night. Practically leaping with fright, you whipped around, trying to identify what was happening.

The moment you turned back, Taehyung was right in front of you-

And getting closer still.

“Run!” he called over the siren.

With no time to ask questions, you quickly spurred your feet into action, racing away from the building Tae had just come from.

“Did you get caught?” you panted.

“No,” somehow he managed to send you a grin, “that’s not where we were aiming for.”

Bewildered, you opened your mouth again, but a shout rung out. Across the yard, nearer to the factory, several figures were running towards the source of the alarm.

Luckily the far edge of the factory was finally drawing near, and with aching limbs you pushed forwards, falling against the bricks the moment you rounded out of sight. Taehyung was right beside you, exhilirated grin still fixed in place even as his chest heaved.

“What now?” you breathed.

“In here.”

Shoving himself away from the wall, Tae moved to the base of a long window. Bars ran the whole way up, slicing your view of the factory inside.

As you watched on with alarm, he reached for the lowest bar and used one small hop to boost himself up. Eyeing him as he clung onto the bars and looked down to you, you shook your head.

“This is crazy.”

For some reason that only seemed to make him smile wider.

“Come on then cub, what are you waiting for?”

“We’ll- we’ll get caught..” you punctuated your unease with a glance behind you.

“Not if we’re quick.”

Chewing at your lip, you reminded yourself of the weight on your wrist, the uncomfortable burn still lingering there. You were just about ready to give in when he spoke again, those big eyes fixing themselves on yours once again.

“You can trust me, pidge.”

With only a small huff, you stepped forwards and hoisted yourself up behind him.

Maybe you were a little crazy, too, to be doing this. But despite the slight slick of drizzle on the cold metal, the climbing wasn’t too hard, more like climbing a ladder. You were well practiced in maneuvering your way up trees in the park, so you made quick work of the window.

At the top, you were met with another window, this time without bars. Presumably they didn’t expect anyone to reach it, as there was no lock apart from a latch that broke with enough force from Taehyung.

With his hands off the bars and shoving the pane up to let you in, however, your heart leapt once again to your mouth, this time spurring you on rather than causing hesitation.

Ducking inside, you quickly dropped onto wooden floor. The window scraped shut behind you, Tae’s hand finding yours again and pulling you to the right. Your footsteps fell softly within the shadows that climbed the walls, the dust drifting within slivers of moonlight that filtered through the windows.

Rows upon rows of abandoned workbenches stretched through the long, thin space. The next room was the same, though with more bits of machinery you couldn’t recognise also lined up on the countertops.

Slowing, Taehyung observed every one as you went past, but quickly tsked and sped up again, onto the next room.

“Aha!” he breathed in elation.

Though you could barely see a difference between this room and the last, you obliged as he led you, squeezing between benches, towards a machine that was bolted to the wall. Letting your hand fall from his, he investigated, closely examining every edge of the metal until he found a button.

As he pressed it down, a rumbling, though quiet, seemed to blare through the space.

Tae glanced back, but not at you, his eyes travelling to the doorways first.

“Come here,” he beckoned you.

Catching your wrist as you moved closer, he lifted it and placed it at the edge of a metal plate in the centre of the thing, illuminated by a dull yellow light that had flickered into life.

“What are you-“

“Stay still.”

Another button and the grating of metal made you both wince. At the firm grip on your wrist, you realised your hand had jolted from its place.

A metal column was steadily descending. Heading resolutely for your arm.

Just as your eyes widened in slight panic, Tae piped up-

“You know they use these things to shape the doors and stuff? This whole room, just for car doors! They use steel, it’s easy to mould-“

A gasp left your lips as you felt a small but definite tug on your arm. The metal had met with your bracelet, avoiding your wrist. Its pace barely slowed as it ploughed through the plastic as if it was butter, soon falling uselessly away from your wrist.

A gasp of joy left you as you were finally free to carress the irritated skin.

Cradling it, you rubbed gently to loosen your silver bracelet that had imprinted onto your skin when it was clamped underneath the shocker.

“Shit-“

You saw it at the same moment as Taehyung. A blazing red line was etched on your skin, winding around your wrist like another piece of jewellery.

“What’s this?” he was asking, fingers easing the gifted bracelet away from your skin.

“My parents gave it to me,” your eyes didn’t leave it, “when my papers came.”

“It’s silver.”

Blinking, you finally looked up at him.

“I think so.”

He drew his lip between his teeth.

But before either of you could speak again, a muffled shout broke you apart. Stepping in front of you, Taehyung moved forwards until he could see down from the window, jaw set.

With a curse, he spun around and grabbed your unharmed wrist, kicking the remnants of the shocker away under a bench.

“We need to go.”

Instantly alerted, your feet were already heading back the way you came, to the window, but you barely made it one stride before Taehyung was pulling you back. Eyes fixed ahead, he never returned your questioning stare as you flew through more doorways, past rows and rows until you were dizzy.

Somewhere below, a heavy clunk sounded as the main door to the building was opened.

And beyond the doorways you had passed through, at the other end of the building, footsteps could be heard echoing throught the space.

Shooting a look back in alarm, you thankfully found no one on your tail yet. The moment you looked forwards again, Tae was leading you down a rickety metal staircase, not caring about the din as you tore down it.

Feet landing on the ground floor, your eyes searched fruitlessly for a door.

“Tae, how do we-?”

The question froze in your throat as you turned around to him wrenching a grill off the wall.

“Quick, pidge,” he ushered you urgently forwards, “this vent comes out at the back, go!”

Both above and on this floor, footsteps were getting closer as you stared into the dark vent.

“What-“

“Just go, quick!” his hands pushed you gently forwards, but you could sense their jitteriness and took a deep breath, diving in headfirst.

There was enough room to get on your hands and knees, so you shuffled forwards as fast as you could, rounding a bend almost straight away. At the scraping of metal, you looked back to assure yourself Tae was behind you.

Only you were met with empty space.

Gaping, your mouth opened and closed in panic, knowing it unwise to speak up. Desperation was clawing at you however, the heavy footfalls of the guards audible even within the vent.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Taehyung’s voice floated through the grate, tone easy.

You gulped nonetheless.

“Lovely night we’re having,” he continued, oblivious to the way your heart was squeezing its way up your throat.

A bang rattled the metal covering just around the corner, Tae’s body slamming against it as you jumped away, hand flying to clamp over your mouth.

“What are you doing in here?” a voice you didn’t recognise snarled.

“Ah, well you see“ – how Tae was so calm you had no idea – “I was walking my dog and he saw this rabbit and chased it through the fence! I didn’t see where he went, I thought it might have been here, but as you can see, he’s not-“

“You think you’re funny, huh?” a new, equally unfriendly voice, interrupted.

“Well, I wouldn’t-“

Tae’s words were once again cut off with a harsh clatter of metal against brick. Jostling and scuffling was all you could hear for a moment, retreating further down the dark vent until the sounds grew fainter.

Eventually, near silence returned.

Sucking in a steadying breath, you inched back towards the grate, peering through a gap.

Taehyung was nowhere to be seen.

He was probably among the small gaggle of people walking away from you, but you couldn’t see well. Chest suddenly feeling tighter, you shrank back.

Glancing down the vent Tae had sent you into, it looked a lot smaller now. It felt like forever that you hesitated, the people in the factory disappearing completely from view while you grappled with the obvious conclusion.

If you were to follow Tae, nothing good could come of it except that two of you would be in trouble rather than one.

As much as you wanted him, it was perhaps a selfish part of you that knew you never wanted to cross paths with the controllers. It would surely destroy your conscience, your reputation.

So, with Tae’s words echoing in your head, you turned away.

This vent should come out at the back… okay, getting out shouldn’t be too hard. If you just got to the other side of the fence… but then, what would you do? You barely knew left from right in this area, how would you ever find your way back?

What if more people found you, tried to catch you like they had before?

A small voice reminded you that Taehyung wasn’t exactly a model citizen either, but at least he had helped you.

Not long later, you came face to face with another metal grate. Though it took you minute to shimmy it open, the metal rusty and screeching all the while, no one seemed to be alerted by the time you clambered out.

Fixing it back in place, you came to a stop.

The fence was only feet away from you, unlit as this was the back of the property. Beyond, you couldn’t make out much more than sparse bushes in the darkness.

Even the drizzle was dying now, forcing you to wallow in complete quiet as you remained frozen. The burning skin around your wrist still tingled, not allowing your pain to be forgotten.

You swallowed hard.

If you had felt alone before, you felt much more deserted now with the absence of Taehyung.

Wringing your hands, you glanced left as if it would bring you answers. With a sigh, you looked the other way down the building – only to jump out of your skin.

As you choked on a gasp, Taehyung’s grin only grew on his face, laughing at your fright.

“Taehyung! When did you get there? How did you-?”

“Didn’t think I’d leave you alone, did you, pidge?”

Still reeling in your shock, you merely blinked, prompting another deep laugh from him. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, he strode towards the fence, tilting his head to look down at you.

“Now, let’s get out of here, yeah? There’s a lot more to do.”

“But- Tae, what happened to you? How did you get away?”

Slipping through the fence first, you squinted at a cut on his head. It certainly hadn’t been there before.

“Plenty of practise, pidge,” he said, returning to your side. He offered up nothing more than a smile, but there was nothing behind it this time.

Sighing, you dropped the matter and fell into step beside him. Where his feet steered, you would follow, still none the wiser about exactly where you were. Though your fingers hovered over your wounded wrist, they dared not even skim the tender skin there.

After the fourth time it slipped down, making you wince, you quietly slipped your bracelet off and into your pocket.

“You hungry, pidge?” Tae nudged you after a few more minutes.

“I- I guess…” you shrugged, “I don’t want to trouble you-“

Tae actually laughed out loud then, throwing his head back. His arm landed across your shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“You’re no trouble, pidge. Never think that.”

“O-okay,” you returned, perplexed as he fixed you with a stare.

“First stop,” he announced then.

On reaching a run-down door, not even as tall as his shoulders, he clicked his heels, hands behind his back. When you laughed at him, he seemed satisfied and reached forward to rap on the door.

For a few moments, nothing happened, your eyes sliding between Tae and the door as he stood epectantly.

Eventually, the door – which was more like a plank – squeaked open, revealing a platinum-haired man. Poking his head out, a gummy grin lit up his face.

“Tae!”

“Hey Yoongi,” he greeted, stepping back so that you were visible, “I was hoping we could see Joon?”

Shuffling your feet, you watched Yoongi’s face darken slightly, casting his eyes over you.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, though his eyes never left you.

Melting away into the darkness inside, Yoongi was soon replaced by a taller man who hit his head on the doorframe as he came to meet you.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon,” he smiled at you, still rubbing his crown, “Tae, what can I do for you?”

“This is Y/N, she’s had a rough night,” Tae ushered you forward, “do you have anything for burns?”

Carefullly, he raised your wrist to Namjoon. Pushing his glasses onto his head, Joon leant forwards, squinting at the damage with a low hiss.

“Yeah, I should have something,” he stood back, “how did that happen?”

“Shocker. Silver bracelet,” was all Tae offered in explanation.

“Gods, those disciplinariums ought to be shut down,” Joon shook his head, then, “I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t long before he returned with the promised treatment, helping you apply a cream that instantly soothed your skin.

“Okay, we’d better be off,” Tae rubbed a hand over your back as he said farewell.

Thanking Namjoon, you nervously took the small tub of cream he pressed into your hand. Waving as you walked away, you found the shabby door had already closed.

“Did we pay him?” you muttered.

“Don’t you worry about that, pidge,” he just grinned.

“B-but mother and father told me-“

“Things are different here, cub,” he explained, “if you have the money for something, great. But this side of the tracks, dunno if you can tell, but we’re not exactly well-off.”

“Did we- did we steal?” you whispered, scandalised

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he chuckled. You only gaped.

“Stealing is wrong!”

“Some people on your side of the tracks ought to be told that, pidge,” he quirked his head, bitterness creeping onto his face, “they take everything from us, and then pretend to make it better by stealing our children too.”

Stunned into silence, you merely blinked up at him. His mouth was set in a grim line as he turned to you.

“I’m sorry, pidge, but you gotta understand. You’re from round here too, when it comes down to it. It’s not ‘lucky’ that you got picked up by some rich couple, it’s a damn shame you have to be on the other side to have a shot at a decent life.”

“I- I think I understand,” you swallowed, “but don’t the people here work? Like father does? Then you shouldn’t have to steal.”

Tae chewed on his lip as he led you into a small alley, still moving slowly.

“It’s a bit different for us, pidge,” he spoke, “we make stuff in the factories, it gets sold on the other side. We work for them, and they don’t pay us enough to buy the stuff we’re making.”

Letting his words sink in, turning them over in your mind as you tried to make sense of them, you broke the silence as you came towards the end of the alley. Your voice was quiet, uncertain. Tae made everything you had been taught seem… unfair.

“Is there… is there really no way? No way out?”

As Tae seemed to chew on his words, his steps slowed. You had come around the corner, warm light seeping into the darkness from the back window of the nearest building. Instead of a cramped alley, this space opened up into a small yard.

A single breath in had your mouth watering – a rich scent was emanating through a vent at the back.

Just as you took another, a shout.

“Hey, looks who’s here!”

The door was thrown open. Tae’s chuckle reverberated in your ears as you startled, stumbling back into his chest.

“Here’s dinner,” he smirked.

“My favourite tramp!” a man greeted as he hurried out, an apron swishing around his knees, “it’s been a while, Tae.”

“Hey, Jimin,” they exchanged a brief hug before Jimin’s eyes fell on you.

Under his keen gaze, you shrank back.

“Who’s this?” he tilted his head towards you, but addressed the question to Taehyung.

“This is Y/N,” Tae fell back to your side, arm falling over your shoulders once again. “We’re kind of hungry.”

“You could at least pretend you want to see me,” Jimin scoffed, but broke into a smile, “but fine, food it is.”

Though Jimin fixed Tae with a stare and a quirked eyebrow, he said nothing else before whipping back inside.

“Hey pidge,” Tae started, “come with me.”

Hand gliding back into place, to intertwine his fingers with yours, he gently pulled you forwards. Reaching the back window of what you now presumed to be a restaurant, a small alcove revealed a narrow set of steps.

“Careful now, pidge,” he warned.

Schooling the curious frown off your face, you obliged, climbing ahead of him.

As you reached the precipice, all the breath was stolen from your lungs.

The stairs opened onto a small roof terrace; nothing to see in itself, a derelict rail running around the edge and a small table perched to the side. But the view…

Never before had you seen your city like this. Sprawled out, vast even in the night that hid away the corners of it, and dotted with flecks of light. Head slowly turning, trying to take it all in, you let your mouth hang open. Behind every prick of light was another family, another life you may never cross over.

It was as if the constellations had landed, just for you.

“Pretty good, right?”

Though you were reluctant to tear you eyes from the city, you were rewarded for your efforts with Tae’s dazzling smile. Perfectly at ease, he basked in the timid glow of night.

When his eyes turned to you, the world stopped moving.

You thought maybe you could forgo all the sparkle of the lights for the burning dark of his eyes.

“Having fun, lovebirds?”

Jumping back from Taehyung at Jimin’s voice, you noticed just how close you had gotten.

Either way, a grateful smile made its way to your lips at the steaming plates of food he bore, carrying with them that heavenly scent from the yard down below. Pausing for a moment before he handed the food over, you saw Jimin’s eyes flick between the two of you.

But as Jimin retreated, Tae pulled out a chair for you, once again bowing as if this was a five star hotel rather than an old roof terrace.

If you were honest, you were a bit uneasy about the chair being able to hold you, but it dutifully remained intact, allowing you to enjoy your meal.

And enjoy it you did.

Senses overwhelmed, you weren’t sure where to look. The awe-inspiring city lay right there, but an equally handsome man was opposite you, the lights sparkling in his eyes even as he slurped at his pasta.

Perhaps it was the fact you were starving hungry, but the meal was just as heavenly as the view, tastebuds gorging on the delicious sauce. Though you longed to dig in as Tae was, your table manners were firmly drilled in, so you persevered with your fork, twirling the spaghetti neatly around.

Somewhere along the way, your manners did devolve. As Tae leant back, stretching with a satisfied sigh, you were scooping the stuff into your mouth.

It wasn’t until you found him staring at you, soft smile curving his lips, that you froze.

“Sorry-“ you mumbled, hastening to wipe at your mouth.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he chuckled, then cleared his throat. “I was – ahem – just wondering if you wouldn’t miss a couple forkfuls of that.”

Ah, so he was making heart eyes at the food. You could hardly blame him and simply nodded, allowing him to take a scoop.

Laughing at his somewhat guilty eyes, you shovelled another mouthful for yourself, still slurping at the pasta in a way mother would surely scold you for, if she could see.

To your alarm, however, you found yourself yanked sideways as you did so. Eyes widening, you found your lips pressed awkwardly to Tae’s, one strand of spaghetti holding you there. It took you a second to react, hurriedly biting down and pulling away the moment you came to your senses. Nervous laughter was startled from you as you averted your gaze, heat rising rapidly in your cheeks.

But Tae’s eyes never dropped.

The barest hint of a smirk still graced his lips, gently sliding away into nothing as he watched you. Eyes lingering, he swallowed.

When you looked up, his lips were parted slightly as he stared at you. If you blinked, you might well have missed it, though, as he hastily pulled his mouth back into a smile. Then he turned away, forcing his gaze back to the city before you.

“It’s a beautiful night.”

His voice was low and raspy, taking him by surprise. Clearing his throat, a short glance at you instilled his hope that you hadn’t noticed.

Each of you obligingly let silence settle, leaving the leftover spaghetti untouched.

Instead, you sat back, content in letting the cool air wrap itself around you. Playing dot-to-dot with the spots of light, you didn’t mind the barest breeze that teased stray strands of your hair. All the while you were aware of the warmth coming from Taehyung at your side.

A deep sigh left him, joining the course of the air as it brushed past you.

“You see that pidge?” his eyes stayed on the city as he sighed. “There’s a world beyond that. Not everywhere is like this. They don’t have this side of the tracks and that side.”

Pulled from your reverie, you gave into his magnetism, finally fixing your gaze on him again. Gesturing at nothing in particular, he continued.

“We could run away… let this place break itself apart and- and just go where we please.”

The sparkle in his eyes was almost enough to spark something in your heart too. But down there among the dark, was your home. Your brother.

“But Tae, my family…” you whispered. As soon as the words left your lips, your teeth clamped around your tongue, some faint wish of having never said those words.

Taehyung shook his head, gaze falling to his hands where they rested in his lap.

“When you aren’t tied down… when you aren’t tied down then you can think these things. They can’t keep you forever, you know. True chidren move out, become people… you shouldn’t have to stay and look pretty on the shelf for them, pidge. Your dreams don’t have to live where you close your eyes.”

He turned to you then. You couldn’t have breathed if you wanted to.

Again, it seemed you had fallen into this man’s magnetic pull, somehow closer than you remembered getting. His eyes were too powerful for you to pull away from, somehow wide and shining while something dark flickered beneath those irises.

It was a slow surge as he moved forwards, his breath falling onto your cheek, your lips.

The darkness of the night, the city, the terrace, blurred at the corners of your vision, unable to look away from the entrancing boy – every fleck of gold in his eyes, each eyelash, sloping down, and now dropping shut-

There was no impact as his lips met yours, feather-soft as they pressed together.

You moved together with ease, slotting into place perfectly as your lips brushed. That was all it took. The moment you confirmed what he was silently asking, he was pressing into your mouth, lips much more than a phantom and very, very real.

Fingers that were resting lightly at your jaw now fervently tugged you closer.

Your head was spinning by the time both his hands were on you. Moulding to his touch, you indulged in his mouth as he pulled you onto his lap, hand gliding over your back. Craving more of him, you eagerly pushed closer, leaving no space for the breeze to weave between your bodies.

Breath fell hot between you as the kiss broke at last, but you found you had been robbed of all words.

“Just stay with me for tonight, pidge.” Tae’s voice was breathy, casting itself to the wind inches from his lips. A hopeful grin spread onto his face. “What’s life without a little adventure?”

Exhaling, you nestled into him once again, casting your eyes back out to the glimmering lights of the city. And he seemed happy with that, arms curling securely around you while they still could.

That night, you both dreamed of running away.

Fingers were trailing winding paths through your hair, rousing you from sleep. It was only slow, the world piecing itself together inch by inch around you, but now you blinked blearily, light filtering through your lashes.

When the hand withdrew from your head, you pried your eyes further open, twisting around.

Taehyung was already looking at you. Soft smile playing on his lips, he ran his hand once more over your head at your pout.

“Sorry, cub, didn’t mean to wake you,” he chuckled.

“No, no,” you shook your head, fidgeting to an upright position as a yawn forced its way out, “wh-what time is it?”

Only a shrug answered, a vague wave towards the sky. Turning, you found the city sprawled out ahead of you, but this time bathed in light as a glow pierced the horizon.

Gnawing at your lip, you kept in your words. It was morning, and you had never been away from home this long, even if it wasn’t your parents waiting for you there. You already missed this moment, knowing you would have to go.

Tae pulled you to his chest again, arms snaking their way around your middle, the ghost of his lips on your neck-

Sighing heavily, you turned back to him, though you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Tae I- thank you, but, I should go home now.”

A moment of silence elapsed, Tae’s arms not budging from where they circled you.

Then, he deflated. Releasing you from his lap, he nodded, more to himself than anything.

“Alright, pidge. Let’s get you home.”

Descending from the terrace, you let the view fade from sight without looking back. The walk was steady, but it seemed to stretch on for hours with the torture of walking beside Tae, unable to give in to your urge to reach out for his hand.

But you couldn’t allow yourself to do that.

Idly observing as the houses you passed became freshly painted, weeds between the paving slabs turning to freshly mown lawns, you tried to reason with yourself. What would Jin and Hoseok think? Not only had you crossed the tracks, but you had broken into a building with the notorious Taehyung.

And then eaten delicious spaghetti with him.

And kissed him.

Resolving never to speak of it again, you cast your eyes down. Why was your common sense betraying you now? Don’t associate with the other side, that was unspoken rule number one. You were better off here, you were lucky to have mother and father.

But that wasn’t what Tae had told you.

And something in you believed him. After your whole life being shooed away from the true children, watching them go to school and learn and do all the things you couldn’t, you wondered why they had taken you in after all.

“What flowers do you like, pidge?”

Double-taking, you were ripped from your thoughts to find Tae calling from behind you.

“I- I don’t know…” you frowned, eyes travelling to the property he had stopped beside.

“Okay pidge, wait here,” he grinned, “gonna need something to remember me by, right?”

He jumped. He jumped, vaulting over the short front wall before you could even utter a sound of warning. Dashing forwards, you watched with wide eyes as you saw him tramp through the garden like it was his own.

“Tae! What are you-?”

Stopping in front of a pristine flower bed, Taehyung’s hands fell on his hips.

“You gotta have a little fun, pidge! It’s harmless, don’t worry! Now do you like yellow or purple best?”

“Uh, um, purple,” you quickly decided, hoping to hurry him along.

Glancing over your shoulder, you scanned the road for anyone watching, bouncing on the balls of your feet as your fingers tapped impatiently on the wall. Finding nothing, you looked back to find Tae focussed intently on the flowers in his fingers, twisting the stems together with his tongue poking out.

Against your better sense, a smile fought its way to the surface.

Then, to your left, voices. Whipping your head around, you searched for the source, which revealed itself as two men emerging around the corner.

Head to toe in black, they sported a small orange stripe on the shoulder of their uniform.

Your heart rocketed in your chest, feet instantly backpedalling, but the controllers already had their eyes on you.

“Tae!” you caught his attention.

As if in slow motion, you watched him find the controllers standing at the corner, watched them locate him, and watched them each start running.

Feet slamming onto the concrete beside you, Tae was already gripping your hand.

“Now’s where we get going,” he panted.

Not hesitating for a second, both of you sped off immediately. Still fairly close to the tracks, despite being on your side, Tae seemed much more familiar with the streets than you. At some point your hands broke apart as he threw himself into a narrow path between houses.

Skidding around the corner after him, you did your best to keep up. The heavy boots thudding close behind were certainly good motivation.

Another turn and a fence stood resolutely in your way. Unfazed, Tae barely slowed down as he hopped over it with ease.

Scrambling after him, your foot slipped, scraping your calf against the wood. Still, you jumped again, struggling to reach the other side. The barrier was nearly as tall as you, only letting you snatch a glimpse of Taehyung disappearing through another garden.

Your eyes stayed on him as a bruising grip pulled your shoulder.

You didn’t struggle as your arms were yanked behind your back, manhandling you against the wall with barely enough time to turn away. Harsh brick scratched at your face while metal dug into your wrists for the second time.

Shoving you forward roughly, your feet nearly lost the ground, but you caught yourself, watery eyes staying on the ground while the hands on your arms marched you away. All you could do was hold in the gasps that constricted your throat.

You couldn’t even look back.

It had been a minute or so since Taehyung last heard the footsteps. Allowing his legs to drag him to a stop, his back fell against a wall, chest heaving. Nonetheless, a wide smile lit up his face with exhilaration.

“You alright, pidge?” he turned, one shoulder staying on the wall as he rolled around to see you.

The street was empty.

Upright in an instant, Tae’s smile vanished in a second.

“Pidge?”

He was already half-yelling but couldn’t bring himself to care when everywhere he looked showed him a distinct lack of you. Spinning in circles, his eyes roamed desperately to no avail.

Breath falling in choppy pants, he set his body in motion again, driving himself to the last corner he turned, then the one before that and the next one… at every empty space, his heart dropped agonisingly.

No no no, he had lost you! He was supposed to be getting you back home, safe and sound.

As much as he didn’t want you to go, this was never in the plan.

Forced to give up, though he must have been running for some time, he dropped his gaze to the flowers still held loosely in his hand.

Petals collided with concrete as Taehyung turned away.

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sproutsgcrden · 3 years ago

Text

sentinel of naruhata | chapter three

koichi's very bad, no good day

warnings: descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

previous chapter | masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

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“So… you’re Haimawari Koichi, age 19, freshman at Hitonami College… I’ll just call you Koichi, then. Unless you like the sound of Nice Guy better.”

Izuku laughed at Haimawari’s sputtering reaction, clutching his stomach as he leaned back against the cool floor of Koichi’s little one-room apartment. After the incident with the return of those thugs, Izuku and Knuckleduster followed Koichi back to his home. Knuckleduster was determined to recruit the both of them, and Izuku just… didn’t have anywhere else to be. He was sure that Eraserhead was already done with patrol by the time their skirmish ended.

Luckily, Koichi didn’t seem to mind too much when Izuku mentioned dying his hair. He felt the black suited him nicely, even if it was still a little damp. He didn’t need Tomura or Kurogiri making a surprise appearance and immediately picking out his green curls from the crowd.

“Don’t go through my stuff, crazy old man!” Koichi reached over to grab his student I.D. and his wallet from Knuckleduster’s grasp.

The veteran vigilante ignored him as he turned to face Izuku. “And what should we call you, kid?”

“Izuku.” The young boy had stopped laughing, but he was still laying on the floor.

“What, no last name? Running away from home?”

“What’s it to you?”

Koichi leaned over him, glancing down with concerned eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to live off of the streets… No wonder you bought a weird amount of junk at the store.”

Izuku grimaced, sitting up and pushing the older kid out of his space. “I’m fine. Can we change subjects?”

Knuckleduster nodded, sending a small smirk Izuku’s way. “Okay. Why are you looking for Eraserhead?”

Koichi blinked, ignoring Izuku’s frustrated groan. “Who’s Eraserhead?”

“He’s an underground hero. He can erase quirks, barring any mutations, and he practically fights quirkless. He’s a badass.” Izuku was talking animatedly, moving his hands around wildly.

“Oh. Wait. Is he your dad?”

“Why would he be my father?!”

“You have the exact same quirk don’t you?”

Izuku slumped, flitting his gaze towards the floor. “It’s similar. I want him to train me how to be a hero. Plus I need his help with something, not that I’m gonna tell you losers what that is.”

Koichi let out an offended grunt while Knuckleduster heartily chuckled.

“Anyways. The two of you will be calling me Master.” Knuckleduster moved from the table to the small mini fridge in the corner of the room, opening it up to find it full of beer.

“Didn’t we tell you that we weren’t going to be your apprentices?” Koichi glared as the man opened a can of beer and began to chug it. “And would you get out already? This is my house!”

The old man ignored Koichi’s protests in favor of grabbing another can of beer. “The drug is called Trigger. It’s a quirk-booster; it also weakens the user’s ability to reason. Basically, this drug turns regular folk into instant villains.”

Izuku glared at the table, clenching his hands into tight fists. He knew all too well what Trigger was capable of. He shuddered as he dared to think what could happen if his father forced Tomura to take the drug. Japan would be completely decimated.

“So, why not just let the heroes do something about it? Or call the police.” Koichi let his head drop to the table, bored and frustrated at the fact that Knuckleduster was refusing to leave him alone.

Knuckleduster barked out a short laugh. “Ain’t gonna happen, kid. These pop-up villains on trigger can emerge from any crowd, at any time. Cops and heroes are always forced to play catch-up.”

“Oh. So they blend in with everyone else?”

“Exactly. And that’s where we come in!” Shocking the two boys into backing up, Knuckleduster hopped to his feet, hand clenched into a fist.

Izuku shook out of the state first, glaring at the older man. “Did you just say ‘we’?”

“That’s right, kid! The three of us are gonna go out, stop suspicious looking characters, and check their tongues!”

“Okay, even if we wanted to go with you, why are you allowing a nine-year old to accompany you? That seems pretty crazy to me.”

“Oh please. He’s more advanced in quirk usage and hand to hand than you, just based on last night. Plus, if he’s hiding from his parents, he’s got nothing else to do. He’s already a deviant in the law’s eyes.”

Izuku could do nothing but reluctantly nod his head at that.

“Trigger turns the user’s tongue black, so we’re gonna give those losers a beat down and make them spill the details on their dealer. That’s the only way to put an end to this whole drug trade.”

Koichi sweat dropped, shaking his head. “So you just want us to go around punching people?”

“Exactly!”

“I thought you were just joking! What the hell, man!” Koichi screamed as he hung off of Knuckleduster’s left arm. Izuku laughed maniacally as he hung off of the vigilante’s neck. He was punching people with his right hand and checking their tongues.

Koichi could admit he was a great multitasker. But holy shit, this man was insane.

The three of them were causing quite the commotion; people were screaming and running away from a man carrying a college student and a little kid who was also throttling everyone he was in range of. It wouldn’t be too long before a hero showed up to stop whatever was happening.

In a desperate attempt to stop Knuckleduster’s shenanigans, Koichi called out to the group closest to them. “Please! Give us a peek at your tongues! Stick ‘em out a little and this will all be over!” The guy closest to them stuck out his, thankfully, normal looking tongue. Koichi tried not to be too offended when the man also flipped him off.

It was hard to hear over Izuku’s laughter, which only increased in volume after getting the finger, but Koichi’s ear perked up at the sound of boots hitting the metal above them. With a glance upwards, the hoodie-clad vigilante felt his eyes soften in relief. “Pop Step!”

“What the hell are you losers doing?” The pink haired idol-in-the-making jumped down to the ground as soon as Kunckleduster threw both Koichi and Izuku on a nearby bench. They landed harshly, Izuku’s laughter tapering off within an instant. Koichi immediately shook it off, and stalked over to a nearby vending machine, selecting a coffee for himself and a juice for Izuku.

“Why don’t you ask the old man? He was the one chasing after innocent bystanders like a lunatic.” Koichi mosied back over to the bench, tossing Izuku the juice as he plopped down beside him.

“I’m nine, not a toddler. What if I wanted a coffee?”

“If they cooperated, I wouldn’t have to look like a lunatic now would I?”

Koichi ignored the both of them as he opened his coffee, taking a well-deserved sip after lowering his mask. He leaned his head back in a rare moment of reprieve, trying to block out the weirdness he somehow chose to surround himself with. He only blinked back into the present when Pop Step aggressively leaned on his arm.

“So you’re looking for junkies and dealers, huh?” Her thoughtful expression drooped into a grimace as she looked away from Knuckleduster. “Thanks for showing up last night, pops. Provided me with a distraction so I could slip away from that idiot.”

“Whatever.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?!”

Pop Step shrugged, stepping back and throwing her hands on her hips. “Why’s the runt still following you around?”

Izuku, who was absentmindedly sipping on the juice that Koichi had gotten him, slowly looked up at Pop Step with narrowed eyes. “I’m not following them. I’ve just got nowhere else to be at the moment and it’s entertaining to see these two create chaos.”

“Right… and that Eraserdude you were looking for?”

“I won’t even be able to start searching for him until night falls. I’m just passing the time.”

Pop blinked a few times before turning back to Koichi. “So, Nice Guy!”

“You can just call me Koichi.”

“Koichi? Is that your real name?” Pop Step hopped in place, her large grin very apparent. “Why are you going along with this, Koichi?

The college student paused, the can of coffee held up to his lips as if he was ready to take another sip. He slowly moved it down, allowing it to rest against his thigh instead. “I just… if I don’t keep an eye on the guy, he’ll beat up every last person on the streets.”

“Nah. I start with the most suspicious ones… like youngsters who can’t stop messing around.”

Koichi ignored the statement, along with Izuku’s snort, as he continued. “And who knows what kind of trouble the kid’ll get up to without a responsible adult nearby!”

“Responsible? Says the dude who’s only item in his fridge is a case of beer!”

“You all are morons!” Pop stomped her foot against the ground. “Going at it so randomly is never going to work. Why don’t you use your heads!!”

Koichi looked up at the girl from his spot on the bench, eyes blank in confusion. “Our heads?”

Pop Step rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bench and pulling out her phone. “Whenever a villain shows up, someone’s bound to snap a pic!”

“That’s right!” Izuku shot up, bringing his phone out as well. “The hero forums are always swimming with pictures of recent attacks.”

“All you need to do is refine the search to ‘unknown’ or ‘sudden’ villains. That’ll mean less legwork for you clowns!”

Koichi blinked, “That’s clever.”

“The photo search or calling you clowns?”

Izuku’s cackle rang out, echoing in Koichi’s ears as he glared at the girl sitting next to him. The three of them nearly missed it when Knuckleduster shot up from his seat in pursuit of a new target.

“Hey! Stick your tongue!”

“Oh, not this again!!” Koichi ran out in front of Knuckleduster, coming to the newcomer’s defense. “C’mon man, this guy is clearly just your average salaryman! He’s not even bothering anyone!”

In his rush to save the seemingly innocent man from getting punched in the face, Koichi barely came to a stop before nearly running into the newcomer. In shock, the man dropped his briefcase, crying out when hero themed action figures came tumbling out.

“See! I told you the guy was fishy! What kind of adult carries around dolls in a briefcase!”

Izuku and Pop Step had just caught up, exchanging concerned and bewildered looks. The young boy pulled his mask over his face and bent down to help the man pick up the toys.

“I- I’m sorry! I work at a toy company, these are just prototypes.”

“See! Nothing suspicious about that! He’s just a hardworking guy!” Koichi’s voice rang out as he tried to push Knuckleduster back.

The elder vigilante wasn’t having it, however, and pushed forward to grab onto the man’s lapel. “That’s what I’m trying to prove! So cooperate, or else.” His free hand cocked back, gloved fingers positioned into a tight fist.

Before Knuckleduster’s fist could land a hit on the poor businessman, a white cloth wrapped itself around his arm, effectively preventing his attack. Knuckleduster grunted as his arm was pulled back, and his eyes narrowed at the figure behind him. Izuku gasped, eyes widened as he took in the hero before them.

“Violent acts in full view of the public… you’re hardly a model citizen.” A gruff voice, harsh from sleep deprivation, sounded out from behind the group. Pop Step and Koichi backed up behind Izuku and Knuckleduster, shocked looks on their faces. “You must be one of those instant villains of late.”

Knuckleduster guffawed, “Hey kid! Looks like it’s your lucky day, huh?”

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, locking on to the young boy who seemed to be hyperventilating out of excitement.

Izuku’s green eyes sparkled in delight, holding his hands up in hopes of proving he wasn’t a threat. “You’re the Erasure Hero: Eraserhead! You lead the underground in both villain captures and civilian rescues, but you never stay long enough to actually gain any credit! Your fighting style is incredible! I always wondered if your capture weapon worked in tandem with your quirk- your hair floats when you use it, yeah? Does it negate small amounts of gravity near you? That would explain why your scarf seems to deny the laws of physics!” His voice carried on, causing those around him to stop and stare.

“Did you know the kid was so…”

“I’ve never heard him speak more than necessary. This is definitely new.”

Eraserhead was the first to snap out of the trance, tightening his grip on his capture weapon as he lowered himself into a battle stance. “I’m not sure how you got such vital information- I work very hard to make sure there isn’t much coverage on my exploits.”

Izuku nodded, standing in place. “There are only two clips I was able to find- but I’ve been looking for you for some time now! We’re not here to cause trouble, promise!”

“Either way, I’m off duty today. Just being a good samaritan.”

Knuckleduster grinned, turning to face the hero fully. “So we got that in common.”

Koichi backed away further, hands high in the air. “No way does he think we’re villains, right?”

“Hey, hey! Don’t lump me in with these guys!” Pop Step jumped, using her quirk to land a few yards backwards.

There was a tense moment of silence before disaster struck. Izuku, sensing trouble out of the corner of his eye, cursed as Knuckleduster rushed towards Eraserhead. The hero, now fully prepared for battle, dropped the sack he was holding. Cat food and jelly pouches flew out of the bag, bursting open against the hard pavement. Knuckleduster chose to go high, fist ready and aimed for Eraserhead’s face.

Izuku sighed, ignoring the shouts from Koichi and Pop Step as he jumped into the fray.

Yeah… this is the most idiotic thing he’s ever done.

#sprout's fics #bnha vigilantes fanfic #bnha vigilantes #bnha fics #koichi haimawari #midoriya izuku #kazuho haneyama #aizawa shouta #iwao oguro #the crawler #deku #pop step #knuckleduster #eraserhead #vigilante izuku #vigilante deku #izuku has afo #dad for one #afo is hisashi midoriya

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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago

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A Selkie’s Coat

M monster X GN human, 5,659 words

The sea has agreed to send one of their selkies to land to experience human culture for the first time- and his exasperated babysitter gets a crash course in selkie culture and their coats.

“How’s your new job going?” Marcus asked. I sipped slowly from my paper coffee cup, sort of wishing it was booze.

“I feel like I’ve been roped into babysitting.”

Marcus laughed. “Isn’t that just what tutoring usually is?” He paused for a moment, brow wrinkling. “Wait. I thought you were supposed to be tutoring college students now?”

“I am. I applied for the job at my college. I mean, I’m still doing the whole correcting high school student papers, but, you know. More money and I figured I’d be at least looking at some interesting subjects.” I drained my coffee. It did not seem to be helping me wake up. I glared at the dregs. Was it worth it to get another one?

“So then why are we talking about babysitting?” Marcus asked.

I drummed my fingers on the table, trying to think of the best way to explain it. The path to the present was a little meandering. “Uh. Let’s back up. You know SLEP?”

“Sea-land exchange program,” Marcus said with a nod. “What about it?”

“My college participates. Well, they just started participating. Some official from the program came to the tutoring center to talk to us about it. Anyway, the gist was, they wanted someone from the tutoring program to help the new guy out. Mostly with papers and assignments, but also, you know, just to sort of help him get used to the land in general. I applied because you get extra money for it- like, only a couple extra dollars an hour, but it meant I’d at least be able to live on something other than ramen.”

Marcus nodded. “You’re babysitting a merman.”

“Selkie,” I corrected. “And, uh. Something like that.”

When I’d heard that it was a selkie coming to my college, I hadn’t been overly concerned with the time commitment. I mean, look at a seal on a beach. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘ball of energy,’ does it? I thought my biggest concern would be just showing him around and making sure he could plug in his laptop without electrocuting himself. I did not expect a guy with little to no understanding of social conventions and the energy of someone who shotgunned six redbulls and an espresso shot.

“The first day,” I said, speaking in an undertone, “he walked around wearing nothing but his sealskin. For hours.”

Marcus snorted into his cup and emerged choking on coffee. “Is that why you called me and demanded my old clothes?”

I threw up my hands. “I couldn’t bring him into a store! He was nude! People told him to wear clothes, but he said, and I quote ‘oh, I thought you were exaggerating about the nudity taboo.’”

Marcus’ snorts turned into peals of laughter. “Yeah, it’s real funny for you,” I groaned. “You’re not the one why has to chase after the guy at all hours, making sure he’s not bolting into traffic.” I massaged my temples. “He did that once, by the way. Got so excited about seeing a real car he just took off. It took so long to explain to him that those cars will not just move out of the way if he gets in front of one.”

“Is that why you told me to get him a decaf?” Marcus asked, glancing at the third coffee cup on the table.

“Yes. I can’t imagine what he’d be like if he got caffeine in him,” I said. Marcus glanced over my shoulder and I saw his eyes widen. I closed my mouth just as the hyperactive selkie sat back in his seat.

“Find the bathroom okay, Hipsid?” I asked. He nodded. Even sitting still, he was jittering his legs enough to shake the table. I cradled my coffee protectively in my hands.

“Yep! It’s interesting!” He scooped up his coffee and took a massive gulp before sputtering. “Hot!”

“It’s coffee!” I said, seizing a wad of napkins and blotting up the spill. Hipsid gave me an apologetic look. His eyes were dark and enormous, radiating every one of his emotions.

“Sorry! I didn’t expect it to be so bitter, either.” He took a smaller sip, smacking thoughtfully. “It’s weird. But not bad!”

Hipsid’s legs pressed awkwardly close to mine under the table. He was tall, with long, black hair clipped up into a loose bun. His skin was a light brown, which offset the dappled gray and white coat he always had slung around his shoulders. It was long, nearly reaching the floor, and I kept having to resist the impulse to touch it. Selkie coats were oddly mesmerizing, and I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to how soft it would be if I just touched it.

“So, how’s land treating you?” Marcus asked. Hipsid’s head snapped toward him, an enormous smile spreading over his face.

“Oh, it’s very interesting! There’s so many things I’ve never seen before! And everything works so different on land.” He took another sip of coffee. “There’s nothing like this in the ocean.”

Marcus’ phone buzzed and he snatched it up. “Oh, damn. Work’s calling. I gotta go, I’ll see you later.” He drained the rest of his coffee in a quick gulp and tossed the cup in the trash as he jogged out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Hipsid asked.

“He works as an EMT. He’s on call. And we should probably get going to,” I said, standing up.

“But I haven’t seen anything interesting yet!” Hipsid said. He poked out his lower lip. His face was soft and extremely expressive. It was easy to read his feelings just from looking at him, and now it was clear that he was pleading.

I shifted. Technically, we were supposed to be studying. Hipsid was absolutely unwilling to sit still for more than a few minutes. He kept swiveling in his seat, eyes wide as he took in everything around him.

“What exactly do you want to see?” I asked tentatively.

“Everything!” Hipsid said, bolting out of his chair. “I’ve heard so much about the land, but I’ve barely seen anything so far!” I sighed. Hipsid was already wriggling in his seat. There was no way he was going to sit still for a study session.

“Okay,” I said tentatively. “We can walk around for a little- hey!”

No sooner had I started to say the words than Hipsid was on his feet, heading toward the door. I snagged my cup and followed him.

We emerged at the back of the college campus. There were students scattered all over the place, most of them with their noses buried in books. Hipsid looked back and forth, eyes wide, like he was taking everything in. “Look!” he said, excitedly pointing up toward the sky. “What’s that?”

I squinted in the direction he was pointing. “Uh. That’s a butterfly.”

“It looks kind of like a fish!” he said. I squinted at it. I supposed, if you considered that it was brightly colored and it moved in a swift, darting way through the sky, it did look a little like a fish. “Can you eat it?”

“Oh, no,” I said, snagging his hand and pulling him away. “Absolutely not. Butterflies are poisonous. And you can’t just eat random things you find outside!”

Hipsid twisted to look at me, eyes wide and guileless. “Really? Why not?”

He sounded so genuinely bewildered that it took me a moment to answer. “Uh, because you don’t know if it’s safe? It could be toxic! Or have diseases!”

Hipsid’s brow wrinkled. “Then what do you eat?” he asked, sounding genuinely bewildered.

“Food? That we buy?” I said. Hipsid’s brow wrinkled further. “Uh. You get it at stores?” There was no change in his expression. “You know what, I’ll just show you. We can go into town.”

Hipsid’s expression cleared like the sun breaking through clouds. “Yes! Yes! Let’s go!” He glanced around as if expecting the town to suddenly appear in front of him. “Which way?”

His hand tightened around mine and I realized we were still connected. I dropped it. “This way. Follow me.”

Hipsid trotted eagerly at my side as I led him to the bus stop. Luckily, just as we arrived there, the bus trundled down the street. Hipsid’s mouth dropped open, then he began to choke on the fumes.

“It’s big!” he said. He coughed again, covering his mouth with a hand. “And it stinks!”

“Yeah, most cars do. Come on.” I nodded toward the door as it hissed open. Hipsid practically pressed against my back as we boarded. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I traded money for tickets with the driver.

“What’s that?” he asked as we started to walk to our seats.

“It’s a ticket. It lets me ride the bus. When we get back on later, it tells the driver that I already paid to ride back and I don’t need to pay again.”

“Paying,” Hipsid repeated, like he was feeling out the word in his mouth. I squinted at him suspiciously.

“They told you about paying, right?” Selkies didn’t have an economy, or any kind of money. Even if it had been explained to Hipsid before, I didn’t have great hope that he’d absorbed it.

“Yes,” he said, but he didn’t sound confident. “I have money.” He fished in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a wallet. “How much is a ticket?”

“You don’t need to pay me-” I froze, staring at the fifty he was offering me. “How much money do you have?”

“I don’t know. They gave me the wallet and said I should use it to buy things I need.” I snatched the wallet from his hand and stared into it. There were several hundreds, even more fifties, and a handful of twenties.

“You’re just carrying all this around with you?” I said, my voice edging toward hysterics. Hipsid looked endearingly bewildered, like a puppy unsure why he was being scolded.

“Yes! They said I needed money!” His voice was pitching toward a loud whine as well, and we were drawing attention. I dropped my voice.

“You can’t carry this much money around with you. You’re going to get robbed. You need to leave some of it at home.”

“Couldn’t someone just take it from my house?” Hipsid said. “Isn’t it safer if it stays with me?”

“You can hide it somewhere, or put it in something with a lock, like a safe. Someone could shoot you and take your wallet.” Hipsid’s eyes went wide.

“That happens?” He stared around the bus with badly-concealed suspicion. “Often?!”

“No, no, not often, but it could, especially if you make a habit of carrying a lot of money on you,” I said, trying to soothe him. Hipsid looked at his wallet with roughly the same amount of caution one would give a live grenade. “Look, I’ll keep an eye out for you, all right? Just don’t do it again.”

He nodded seriously, tucking his wallet back into a pocket and tugging his coat tighter around him. I wondered, vaguely, if he could change into a seal while wearing clothes. Did they just kind of vanish? Did he have to strip?

“What’s wrong?” Hipsid asked. I startled out of my thoughts and realized that I’d been staring intently at him.

“Oh. Nothing.” Fortunately, the bus started moving at that moment and Hipsid became distracted enough to forget the whole thing.

“It’s bumpy!” he said, jittering slightly in his seat. “Oh, it’s a little disorienting!”

His excitement lasted for about three minutes before it transitioned into queasiness. He swayed against me, eyes closed. “You didn’t tell me you get carsick,” I said. There was a grayish tone to his brown skin and beads of sweat had started popping up on his forehead and cheeks.

“I’ve never been in a car before,” Hipsid said, not opening his eyes. He hiccupped and groaned. “I don’t feel well.”

Not eager to have a selkie vomit on me, I ended up herding him off the bus two stops early. We sat in the but stop together, Hipsid groaning with queasiness. “Put your head between your knees,” I suggested, trying to push him into a rough approximation of the position. “Breathe slowly.”

Hipsid hiccupped again and leaned into me. I swiped some of his hair out of his face. He pressed into my touch, seeking out the comfort.

“Feeling better?” I asked after we had spent a few minutes sitting and I had managed to force some water down Hipsid’s throat.

“Better,” he said. His skin was less sallow and he seemed to be breathing easier. “I don’t like busses.”

“They’re not the most comfortable mode of transportation. We might have to walk back,” I said. Hipsid sighed, readjusting his coat.

“It smells weird here,” he said, wrinkling his nose and looking around. We were sitting near a road, with cars passing every few moments. There was a constant smell of smoke and exhaust. Hipsid grimaced, nose wrinkling all the way up to between his brows.

“It’s the fumes. Exhaust and people smoking and stuff,” I said. Hipsid shook his head, snorting, then sneezed.

“How do you stand it?” he asked. I shrugged.

“Doesn’t bother me that much. Maybe you’re a little more sensitive,” I suggested. “Selkies are suppose to have better noses than humans.”

“I can tell,” Hipsid said. He sneezed again and coughed. “Can we go inside?”

We walked down the street, glancing at the buildings. Eventually, I pulled him inside a small museum. “This place is interesting,” I said. “It’s a history of the town. It’s got some stuff about sea and land relationships in here too.”

Hipsid perked up. Inside, the air was fresh and clean and it seemed to have revived his mood. “Okay! Ooh, what’s that?”

I pressed my lips together deliberately, trying hard not to laugh at him. “That’s a map, Hipsid. It’s not a display.”

Regardless of my telling him that the map was not, in fact, the most interesting part of the museum, he still spent several minutes staring at the lighted display. When I finally managed to budge him, he got immediately distracted by a tiny display showing the founding of the college.

Distractible was easily the best word to describe the trip. Hipsid was just as eager to look at things like sliding glass doors and water fountains as he was to look at the actual exhibits. I had to admit that it was kind of endearing to watch him. He was so genuinely excited about everything that it was infectious.

“The town got its start as a fishing village, and then the college came and it kind of transformed everything,” I said, trying to explain what little information I knew to him. “Here, there’s a little demonstration on how they used to weave together the fishing nets.”

Hipsid peered closely at the lengths of rope that criss-crossed the table, and the little diagrams showing you how to know it. “This is how humans catch fish?” he asked. “It seems so complicated.”

“Yeah? What’s a better way?” I asked.

“With your teeth,” Hipsid said, clicking his jaws in demonstration.

“I really don’t think that would work for us,” I said.

“No,” Hipsid said, looking at me consideringly. “You really are clumsy in the water.” He giggled to himself, probably thinking about the humans he’d seen swimming before. “It’s funny.”

“I’m sure,” I said, delicately not mentioning that selkies, when in their seal forms, were not the most graceful land animals. “But it’s not like we really need to be good swimmers. We’re not made for it.”

“I’ve swum in this body before,” Hipsid said confidently. “It’s not hard. You just don’t know how to do it.” He turned, looking me up and down. “I could teach you!” he exclaimed, so loud I jumped a little. “Then I can show you around the ocean like you’re showing me around land!” He seized my hands, springing lightly up onto his toes. “It’ll be great! I can show you the Abyssal Depths, the Great Caverns, the Haven Reefs!”

I squeezed his hands gently before sliding my fingers out from between his. “That’s not really going to work. Humans can’t breathe or see under the water that well. I’d have to get diving gear and take lessons.”

Hipsid’s expression drooped, almost comically. He looked genuinely crushed. “Oh.”

“I can go swimming with you at some point,” I said, trying to cheer him back up. He looked so much like a kicked puppy, it was hard to resist the urge to cuddle him. “It just might be hard for me to see your home.”

“We could go swimming now,” Hipsid said, mood one-eightying back to excitement. “The ocean’s not far away! You can show me stuff on the way there and I can show you stuff once we’re at the ocean!”

“Er, I don’t have my swimsuit,” I protested, but he had already started to drag me through the exhibits. His enthusiasm was oddly catching, though. I couldn’t help the smile that was starting to tug at my mouth.

And then Hipsid came to a complete stop in front of me and I rammed into him.

“Ouch,” I said, stepping back and gingerly touching my nose. It seemed unharmed. “What’s the deal? You okay?”

Hipsid didn’t respond. In fact, he was uncharacteristically still. His eyes were locked on the exhibit in the center of the room.

It was clearly a centerpiece, the crown jewel of the collection. It was elevated and angled lights shone on it from all sides. A glass box surrounded it. Held in the middle of the case, carefully arranged to show it from all angles, was a dappled gray fur coat.

A selkie coat. There was a small, silver plaque in front of it, with tiny type explaining the exhibit. Hipsid made a noise int eh back of his throat, a sort of choked whimper.

“Are you okay?” I asked again. “Hipsid? Do you want to go? We can leave-”

“Why is that here?” His voice was choked, tight, verging on a sob. I looked between him and the coat.

“It’s part of the exhibit, I guess,” I said. I approached the case to read the plaque. Hipsid followed me, though he hung back, as though frightened something was going to snatch at him.

I skimmed the plaque. “Says here that this coat is from one of the founders of the village. Apparently, he got it from his wife, who was a selkie. When she died, he gave the coat to his kids and they donated it to the museum.”

“That’s not true!” Hipsid’s voice was frantic and surprisingly loud. I stared at him. “It doesn’t belong here!”

“Hey, hey,” I said, trying to calm him down. People were starting to look in our direction. “Do you want to go somewhere-”

“He stole it!” Hipsid’s voice was still rising. “He took it from her and she had to stay on land with him! He didn’t even let her be buried in it! And now it’s on display, here, instead of where it belongs, with her!” His voice was utterly distressed, expression stricken. His breathing was rapid and shallow. “It can’t stay here!”

He reached for the case and I automatically snatched his hand back. “You can’t touch it! We’ll get in trouble!”

Hipsid’s gaze snapped to me, eyes wide. For a second, I wasn’t even sure he was seeing me. Then his gaze focused. He blinked rapidly, like he was barely holding back tears. “They stole a part of her,” he said. His voice was softer, but more earnest, like he was trying to explain something vitally important to me. “They stole a part of her identity and put it up in a museum like they own it. They’re not supposed to have this.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe him. My hand pressed against the smooth fur of his coat and he jerked away. “I know it’s not right, but there’s nothing we can do. If we grab it and run, we’ll never be able to make it out of the museum. Let’s calm down and we’ll see if we can figure something out.”

Hipsid allowed me to guide him out of the room and to a small bench. He flopped on it bonelessly, covering his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled. I fished in my pocket and offered him a tissue. He mopped at his face, snuffling loudly. I sat, waiting for him to calm down enough to speak.

After a few minutes, he lifted his head. His face was a little splotchy and his eyes were red. He rubbed under his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Better?” I asked tentatively.

He gave me a stony look. “No.” He sat back up and rubbed his eyes off. “But I’m done crying for now.”

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t quite sure what else to say. There didn’t seem to be much I could say. My stomach twisted with a combination of guilt and uncertainty.

Hipsid made a quiet noise of distress. “It’s not fair,” he said. “She had her coat stolen from her in life. Why couldn’t she at least have it in death?”

“How do you know it was stolen?” I asked. Hipsid gave me a cynical look.

“It was stolen,” he said. “If a human takes our coat, we’re bound to them. So, some humans use it to make us their… partner, I guess. Not a slave, but subjugated. If she’d kept her coat, it wouldn’t have been here. She would have taken it back to the ocean before she died. That’s what we always do, so the coat is returned to the waves.” He fell silent. “That’s where it should be.”

I looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “There’s got to be something we can do. Maybe we can petition the museum? Or maybe we can get the college to do something about it. We can at least draw attention to the fact that it’s not right that it’s here.”

Hipsid looked at me. “You want to help me?”

“Yes, of course. I mean, we can’t just break it out, but there’s got to be some way we can get it out of here and back where it belongs. You’re right, it shouldn’t be here. I bet if I talk to the people who organize SLEP, they can set something up.”

A small, tentatively hopeful smile pulled at Hipsid’s lips. His eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I stood up. “Let’s go. We can get there before the offices close if we hurry.”

Hipsid seized my hand, causing me to startle. His shoulder pressed against mine as an eager smile spread over his face. “Okay! Let’s go!” There were still tear tracks on his face, but he was beaming once more, apparently hopeful. I smiled back.

We walked out into the cool air and started heading back toward the bus stop. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to use the bus again, I realized. Not unless I was ready to get puked on by a selkie. We would just have to walk fast.

It was only a few minutes after we had passed the first bus stop that I started to get an uncomfortable tingling sensation along the back of my neck. Some of the hairs there started to stand on end. I kept glancing over my shoulder. Something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?” Hipsid asked. I rubbed at the back of my neck, frowning down the street behind us.

“Don’t be too obvious about it,” I said in an undertone, “but have you seen some of those people behind us before?”

Hipsid looked over his shoulder. He seemed to be trying to be subtle, but he had no practice with it. “They were at the museum, weren’t they?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” I said. “They left right after we did.” I ducked down a side street. After a few minutes, I saw the men trickle into the street behind us. My stomach sank. “They’re following us.”

Hipsid licked his lips. “Why?”

“I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling about it.” I hazarded another glance over my shoulder. The men were still following. I managed to catch a glimpse of one of their faces as they passed by a beam of light. “They were at the museum, too,” I whispered. Hipsid looked down at me, lips drawn tight with worry.

“So, they followed us here?” he asked. My heart was starting to pound. My first instinct had been to see if they were following us, but now I regretted it. The amount of people was starting to thin out and the men following us were speeding up. A nasty thought was starting to form in my head.

“They followed us from the museum and they weren’t following us before,” I said. One of my hands locked around Hipsid’s wrist, keeping him close to me. “What was at the museum and is also here now?”

There was a pause while Hipsid thought it over. I both felt and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Selkie coats.” There was a tremor in his voice and he clutched his coat tighter around himself.

“If they were going to take the one at the museum, and then they saw you, they might be thinking you’re an easier target.” I scanned the sides of the alleyway, looking for a way out. The street was getting narrower and there were barely any people around. “Probably noticed when you started yelling.”

Hipsid ignored the comment. “What do we do?” His hand fumbled for mine, squeezing hard. I glanced over my shoulder again. The men weren’t bothering to be subtle about it anymore. They were starting to pick up the pace, closing in on us. I was trying to think rapidly, but my panic wasn’t helping.

Finally, I managed to snag on an idea. “Give me your coat.”

Hipsid stumbled over his own feet. “What?” He clutched at his coat like he thought I was going to snatch it off his shoulders. “No! Why do you want it?”

“They’re after the coat, right? I’m faster than you, and more experienced on land. They’ll follow me and I’ll be able to evade them. You can run and get help.”

Hipsid looked unconvinced. “No. It’s… No!” “Look, it’s the best idea I’ve got right now!” We were rapidly running out of time. The men were approaching.

“The coats are important to us! They’re more than just a part of us, they’re… well, there are a lot of implications to a selkie giving you their coat!” Hipsid sputtered. “It’s not something we can do lightly!”

“Please,” I said. “I know selkies are protective of their coats. I promise, I will keep it safe. Nothing will happen to it and you’ll get it back safe.” I stopped to look into Hipsid’s face. His eyes bored into mine, deep, and dark, and full of worry. I took a steadying breath. “I swear, Hipsid. I will keep your coat safe and get it back to you.”

A small shudder passed through Hipsid’s body. He slipped his coat from his shoulder and passed it to me. His hands lingered over mine. “Keep it safe.”

“I promise,” I said. There was a weight to it. I could feel the heaviness of the vow settling on me like a mantle. Hipsid gave a small nod. He lingered for only a moment longer, then took off running.

There was a moment of confusion in the men- apparently they hadn’t been expecting us to split up. It gave me just enough time to slip past them and sprint out back into the main street.

The coat was heavy and it pressed against my back as I ran. My legs and lungs burned as I slipped past people. Luckily, I knew the town well enough to duck between the buildings and weave around everything. There was no way Hipsid, still unused to being on land, would have been able to keep up. I had to work my way through some tight squeezes and turn quickly.

Finally, gasping, I slipped into a tiny alleyway and stopped. I was pretty sure I’d been able to lose the men. My lungs burned and I felt my legs trembling from exertion. Slowly, I sank to the ground.

I stayed huddled in the alleyway for a long time. At least, it felt long. I waited until the sun had completely set before squeezing myself out of the cramped alley. I held the coat against my chest. It was warm, despite the chill in the air, and I kept stroking my fingers over the smooth fur.

My legs ached and I walked awkwardly down the city street. Hipsid. I had to find Hipsid. We hadn’t discussed where we were going to meet up again. How was I going to find him? Absent of any other ideas on what to do, I headed back toward campus.

That was, apparently, Hipsid’s idea as well, because he was waiting near the entrance to campus, pacing anxiously. When his eyes fell on me, he sprinted toward me, squeezing me into a hug. “You’re okay! I was about to call someone for help, I though you’d gotten captured or hurt!” He broke off, big eyes looking down into my face.

“I’m fine. Just took me a little while to lose them.” We broke apart. I was still holding his coat, wrapped around my arms. He glanced at it, but made no move to take it from me. Anxiety tensed the edges of his eyes and he fidgeted with his fingers.

I slowly unwrapped the coat from my arms. There was an odd nudging feeling in the back of my mind. The air seemed hideously cold as I peeled the coat away from my skin. I had the strange urge to cling to it, to hold it close to me. The desire bubbled up inside me with surprising intensity. Hipsid’s expression tensed, like he could tell the direction my thoughts were taking.

No. Slowly and deliberately, I held the coat out toward him. It was his, and I’d seen how upset he’d gotten when someone else’s coat had been taken. The image of his big, sorrowful eyes looking at me with betrayal made my heart ache. Hipsid reached out and took the coat, gathering it in his arms. He had an expression like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“Th-thank you.” He stumbled over his words a little and his eyes flicked up to meet mine for only a moment before darting away again. He took a cautious step back. “I- I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

He hurried away, casting his coat on over his shoulders. I stared after him, feeling slightly hurt. I’d saved his coat and he was just going to run off? I shrugged it off. Maybe there was something here that I wasn’t understanding. I wasn’t really an expert in selkie culture. Maybe he needed to wash it or something.

I went back to my room and collapsed into bed. It was surprisingly hard to get to sleep. Adrenaline still pounded through me.

I had to drag myself to work the next day, practically collapsing across my tutoring table. I looked up as my shift started to see Hipsid nervously hovering near the doorway. He was rocking back and forth on his heels and turning something over in his hands. His eyes fell on me and he smiled hesitantly. “Morning.”

I stifled a yawn.” Good morning.” Hipsid walked over to the table and sat down slowly. He was wearing his coat around his shoulders as per usual.

“You look tired,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just a little sleepy, that’s all. How are you? Yesterday was… rough.”

Hipsid nodded, ducking his head again. “It wasn’t all bad,” he said. “It ended pretty nice.” His voice was shy.

“All’s well that ends well,” I agreed. “So, what did you want help with today?”

Hipsid gave a nervous little laugh. “Oh, I’m not really here for tutoring. I came by to- well, to give you this.”

He handed me the object he’d been fiddling with. It was a small, black box with a sort of velvety coating. I opened it.

Nestled in the box was a small, golden ring. A perfectly smooth, white pearl was set in the middle of it. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “But you don’t need to give me a ring. I don’t need to be rewarded for saving your coat.”

“Oh, I know,” Hipsid said. “The coat’s enough, isn’t it? But I thought it would be nice to propose in a human way, too.”

There was a long pause. The world seemed to tilt underneath me. “I’m sorry?”

“Humans propose with rings,” Hipsid said. “I had one, so I thought we could-”

“No, no. When was the first proposal?” I said. Hipsid blinked.

“You gave me back my coat,” he said. “Coats are important to us. You held my coat, held a part of me, and then returned it with no expectations. That’s a proposal.”

I gaped at him. “But I wasn’t intending to propose!”

“But you did,” Hipsid said. He looked at me eagerly. “We don’t have to get married right away! But it’s nice to be engaged. I don’t have to worry about anyone else touching my coat!”

I stared at him. There was a part of me that wanted to protest, but… His enthusiasm was infectious again. And looking at his beaming smile and eager eyes, my heart did do a little skip in my chest. “Okay,” I said. “But we’re going to take it slow, okay? And we do it the human way.” Hipsid nodded, looking delighted. “Good. Now, do you know what dating is?”

#exophilia #selkie #selkie coat #monster boyfriend #selkie boyfriend #monster lover #seal #male monster

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scavengedluxury · 4 years ago

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The police have been desperate to build a narrative of valiant officers defending Bristol from dangerous thugs, but the truth is very different, and they have started to trip over their own lies.

In our report of Bristol's first #KillTheBill protest we spoke about how the police lie in order to build a false narrative. We described how the corporate media facilitates this by printing their lies as undisputed fact, and how the police's cheerleaders both professional and amateur will take these lies and run with them. The past week has proven us right. Here is a run down of just a some of the lies police and their supporters have been caught out on.

7. Protesters Attacked The Cars Of Bystanders & Other Emergency Workers This was an early quote put out to portray the protesters as hell bent on mindless destruction. Reports were that vehicles that had nothing to do with the police, and were just unfortunate enough to be in a neighbouring multi-storey car park had their windscreens smashed. In later media coverage the police admitted these were unmarked police cars, the video footage shows that this was made clear by the ‘reserved for police use’ parking bays.

6. My Poor Bones! Following a police statement this story was repeated everywhere. The police said, as if a confirmed fact, that one officer had a broken arm, and another a punctured lung. Other people would elaborate further, the punctured lung was due to a police officer being knocked to the ground and repeatedly stamped on was a common story. Can you imagine who could possibly attack someone already on the ground like that? Suspicious at the number of alleged ‘injuries’ the police had suffered, activists submitted a Freedom of Information request for details on them. Shortly after this Avon & Somerset Police quietly retracted the claim, and confirming no bones were broken or lungs punctured. It was only after a lot of noise on social media, and articles in the radical press, that some mainstream outlets reported this change in story. Many original articles quoting it as fact remain online and unchanged.

5. Protesters Are Responsible For Hurting Horses And Dogs If someone told me there was a riot, and I said ‘ok, I’ll bring my dog’, and then I took my dog to a riot; I would be rightly accused of animal abuse. Yet for some reason the police expect a free pass. Let’s get one thing straight, the police don’t bring animals to protests because they love and value them. They bring them because they view them as weapons and want to use them to hurt people. At all three protests this week, police repeatedly deployed dogs and horses for hours, without caring about the risks. Luckily they also reported none were hurt. The most violence we saw towards the dogs was officers dragging them by the collar to keep them away from dropped food. Yes animals are spooked by fireworks, but better spooked and taken away than kept on the front lines as a risk to themselves and others.

4. The Protesters Struck First! An important part of any narrative, as any Star Wars fan will tell you, is who struck first. This is because few people would randomly hit someone in the street, but many of us would hit back in self defence. Early police statements in the press on Sunday night said that officers had ‘stood back’ until a police van was set on fire. These were clearly fabrications right from the start. There was footage of the police using batons to strike protesters whilst it was still day light, where as the burning van was pictured after dusk. In even clearer evidence there was footage of police hitting protesters next to the van that would later be burned, while it was very much not on fire.

3. They Made Us Do It In an echo of the language of abusers the world over, the cops insisted that they were ‘forced’ to violently attack the protest. According to them nothing else would work, as the crowd was so volatile, dangerous and aggressive. Even if the police had ‘started it’ (which they would never admit) they insisted it only escalated due to protesters. Were that true then, the expectation would be that a crowd that remained passive and peaceful would have been treated with a far lighter touch. Tuesday proved this to be yet another lie. Hours of people being hit by batons , horse charges, dog attacks, and people dragged by their hair. All whilst the most violent resistance put up was the laying of daffodils.

2. If You Don’t Do Anything Wrong, You Have Nothing To Fear A statement older than policing itself. The people who are attacked are, if not ‘yobs’ or ‘thugs’ at the very least ‘trouble makers’ and ‘criminals’. No Law abiding citizen need fear police violence. Well unless they decide something currently legal, such as protest, is a crime. So, then the police used violence on law abiding citizens. In chilling scenes on Tuesday they assaulted two journalists from The Cable, despite them showing press passes. They then detained the editor of Bristol 24/7, only releasing him thanks to the support of a near by photo journalist. On Friday they attacked a reporter from The Mirror, and ‘confronted’ a photographer. A short time after they arrested a ‘citizen journalist’ who had been streaming the protest on YouTube, first coaxing him over for a chat before grabbing him. They didn’t stop at journalists either, they attacked medics and the people they were treating, forcing them to relocate repeatedly.

1. I’m A Postman Yes, you read that right. We’ll let the victim of this particular incident speak for themselves by quoting from their social media post, which we have independent confirmation of. “This morning… I got out under arrest and handcuffed by 5 undercover police who barged into the house no masks initially claiming to my flatmate I needed to sign for a parcel (dressed as a postman) but followed her up yo my room. They told me I had been disorderly / violent which I knew I hadn’t. I was partially undressed and they were all big men and they wouldn’t let me call anyone and told my housemate to go to her room whole I was having actual panic attack and shrieking. They told me I was going to be out in a cell at keynsham police station but they needed to get a female officer over to help me dress first. I was clearly so distressed and confused BC I wasn’t even where they had placed me. Eventually they brought up a photo of a girl who clearly wasn’t me and then eventually dropped the arrest and left me but its so incompetent they could mistake me for this girl and actually get a warrant for my arrest when they can’t even catch real criminals My mental health has been pretty shit lately, especially anxiety so now this has happened and the police are responsible through treating me like a criminal and giving me no respect when I wasn’t even the person in their photo.So no I don’t have faith in the police or British justice system“

These are just the most easily provable lies that the police have told. There are many more, nearly everything they say has been an attempt to deceive. We hope both readers and writers, of the news will continue to remember that the police are not trustworthy sources.

As one commentator on twitter put it, Police statements are a lot less mystifying when you read them as what they are – propaganda by violent agents of the state.

#bristol #kill the bill #police brutality #uk politics

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frostedfaves · 4 years ago

Text

Haunt (4)

Masterlist

Pairing: civilian!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Opening up with Wanda comes with more of a consequence than you’re prepared for.

Warnings: angst, discussion of grief and death, car crash mention, hospital, blood, graphic visions, ghosts/demons

A/N: I’m trying not to rush to the most intense part of the plot but please tell me if the story’s moving too slowly! feedback like that is veryyy helpful. also please check out my pinned post! I’m not writing any until I finish this series but I’m accepting them at all times!

Previous part

“What are you thinking about?”

Truthfully, Wanda was thinking about last night. About the way you seemed to open up and invite her into your heart, share your fears and desires in a way that showed a level of trust she was honored to have. Until something happened and you were suddenly building walls around yourself that Fort Knox would be jealous of, and this time, that ‘something’ was a nightmare.

A loud gasp startled Wanda awake, even more when she turned over to see you sitting up in bed and breathing heavily. She pulled herself up and placed a hand on your back, scolding herself for acting so quickly when you jumped under her touch.

“Hey, it’s just me,” she informed you, hoping the two of you were at a place where saying this would mean something.

“Sorry, I just...sorry,” you apologized breathlessly.

“It’s okay, babe. It was just a dream,” she assured you, a small smile growing on her lips as she felt you relaxing against her palm’s circular motion.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

You climbed out of the bed and left the room, closing the door behind you. She hated the silence that followed your exit, because it seemed to make her worry more than the moments you spent panicking in front of her for a reason she was afraid to ask for. She checked her phone four times while you were gone, and only three minutes passed until you returned with two glasses of water and one fake smile.

“Nothing,” Wanda tried to convince you, and you put your fork down with a sigh.

“I’m sorry if I scared you last night. I probably should’ve warned you that I have at least one nightmare a week.”

“Everyone has nightmares.” She reached across the table for your hand. “I just wish you wouldn’t hide yourself from me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You came back in the room last night like I’m supposed to believe you’re suddenly okay after waking up in the way you did. I want you to be able to talk to me and trust me, which you do sometimes, but then something just seems to reverse all the progress we made.”

She watched as your eyes watered slightly and your shoulders seemed to sag. On one hand, she worried that she’d gone too far, pushed too hard and now you were about to crack under the pressure, and on the other she hoped (and feared) you just might be ready to give her answers. Then your phone rang. You ignored it the first time, but the caller was persistent.

“I should probably take this,” you sighed as you pulled the device from your pocket and Wanda watched you leave the room as quickly as last night.

You stopped abruptly on your way back to the dining table, growing a bit worried at the sight of Wanda’s abandoned plate. Seeing her tying her shoes by the apartment door with an unreadable expression was much more terrifying.

“Why are you leaving?”

“I thought maybe you could use some space,” she explained calmly as she stood up again. “I want to know more about you, but I don’t want you to feel cornered every time I ask you a question.”

“Wait!” you called as she went to grab the doorknob, rushing over to grab her other hand. “My best friend died in a car crash.”

There seemed to be a bubble surrounding the chair you were in, keeping the chaos of the emergency department far away from the corner of the waiting room you’d chosen to hide away. The ringing of phones sounded distant and voices muffled, until one seemed clearer than ever.

“Y/N?”

The voice belonged to the older sister of your best friend, the girl you actually wanted to be with. Of course, there was no way she’d even consider dating you now. She’ll probably hate you until the day she dies when she realizes that you killed--

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Is she dead?”

You attempted to clear the dryness from your throat as you looked into her watery eyes, sitting right above her glistening cheeks that answered your question before her nodding did. You felt sick, empty-headed and overwhelmed with thoughts at the same time, and it didn’t help that you were now holding hands with your crush as she sat beside you.

“The driver was high. I forgot the name of the drug, but it sounded like something that should not have been in his system while he was driving.” She paused to clean the tear tracks and took a deep breath. “I just want you to know that it’s not your fault, okay? There’s nothing you could’ve done to fix this.”

“I could’ve said ‘I love you’ more.” You dropped your gaze to watch your feet kick against the chair legs. “She thought I didn’t care about her and we were arguing about it just before the crash. If I’d shown her more appreciation, we wouldn’t be arguing and maybe I would’ve seen that driver before he hit us.”

“Y/N, you can’t--”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay.” Her thumb rubbed against your knuckles and your stomach flipped violently. “Did you call your family?”

“They wouldn’t have even come if I did.” You pulled your hand away and got up to leave the hospital, feeling grateful for the fresh air you were greeted with that calmed your nausea enough to drive home.

“She was my favorite person in the world, and her family was there for me when no one else was. I feel like I let them all down by not keeping her safe that night, and the guilt has been heavy in my heart ever since.”

“So that’s why you have nightmares once a week and make people who care about you promise not to get too close to you?” Wanda asked quietly as she squeezed your hand, coming closer to wrap her arms around you when you nodded. “Thank you for telling me this, and I hope you know I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Not even to your house for clothes?” you quipped, laughing as she made a jokingly frustrated noise. “I have a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Did I pass Pietro’s test last night?” You pulled back a bit to look into her eyes. “I have to assume he’s as protective over you as you are with him.”

“Considering he sent me links to wedding dresses this morning, I think it’s safe to say you did,” she answered you with a chuckle. “Although I think anyone would be a step up after what I dealt with last year.”

“Okay, you have to tell me about this crazy ex of yours!”

“I will, I promise!” she laughed as she fully pulled away from the embrace, keeping hold of your hands as she did so. “But first, I’d like to finish that wonderful meal you made, right after I apologize for almost ditching it.”

So you returned to the dining room table and she waited with an authentic grin as you disappeared into the kitchen to reheat the food on your plates. Your late breakfast passed without incident, and you went with Wanda to check on Alexei again, deciding to join the mother-son duo for a walk in the afternoon sun. Everything felt warm and light again as you went around the block hand in hand, but a quiet voice in the back of your mind told you something was wrong before the one just behind your ear.

Stuck. Dead. High. Speak.

Hearing the words for the first time since your dream startled you, but you managed not to react more than slightly squeezing Wanda’s hand, which she was luckily too preoccupied with fawning over Alexei to notice in the moment. The voice seemed deeper than usual, more aggressive and less patient, and you wondered if you fucked up by telling Wanda the little amount that you did.

“Do you mind if I head home? I just remembered I have one last thing to finish for work tomorrow, and I’d rather get it done early.” Your voice shook slightly in the middle of your sentence, and you could tell she picked up on it by the way she frowned.

“Is everything okay? You’re not shutting down on me again, are you?”

“No, not at all. I’m just kinda nervous because I’m up for a promotion and this project could decide whether or not I get it.” Technically not a lie, but the ‘one thing’ you needed to finish would take five minutes at most.

“Okay, I won’t stop you then.” She tugged on your hand to pull you closer and smiled against your lips as she kissed you, causing you to do the same as she pulled away. “Text me before you go to sleep?”

“Of course.” You went to walk away and frowned slightly when she gripped your hand tighter. “What’s up?”

“Promise you’ll call if you need me tonight. Or any night.”

“I promise,” you told her after a few beats and leaned in to kiss her once more. “Don’t have too much fun without me, kids.”

You finally make your way home after giving Alexei a few goodbye scratches and close the apartment door behind you with a sigh as the familiar phrase floods your ears again. As promised, you finish your work task, but you don’t text or call Wanda when the voice in the corner of the room gets louder.

Instead, you close your eyes and get hit with a dizzying vision instantly. It comes in flashes, but you very clearly see yourself and a shadowy form on a bridge, and another flash brings you to the image of yourself on the street under that same bridge, bones broken and blood pouring. Your eyes fly open as you gasp loudly, and you don’t bother to hold back your scream when you catch sight of the dark figure that’s always been lurking in the corner of your eye. In the light of your bedroom, you could clearly see the battered and bruised body of your best friend slowly raising her damaged arm to point a finger at you.

And for the first time in her life (and death), she looked like she wanted to kill you.

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @cristin-rjd @slut-for-nat @honeyvenable @creepingwolfberry @stickystudentlightmug @choni-trimberly @thedragonzland @dylxn-lee @cordeliaswhore @ravvakin96 @leximills2004

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #the avengers #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel

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wellhellotragic · 3 years ago

Text

These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal 3/4

Summary: It’s not her fault. She’s still new and doesn’t know. He’s not flawless. Not anymore. He’s got scars, ones she’s seen first hand. Ones she helped tend to. His body is covered in them. There’s a thin red line where he took a bottle to the face during his early beat cop days. There’s another angry red mark on his torso from where he was stabbed with a knife in his ribs. The one where he had his hand slammed in a locker as a teenager has long since faded, only the barest hint remaining, only visible in just the right lighting.

There’s two oval scars now too. One in his stomach and one on his chest. Those are from the worst day of her life.But none of those scars compare to the ones he carries on the inside. The self-inflicted cuts he makes to his soul never quite healing over. He blames himself. It’s not his fault.

There’s a scar on her soul now too. One he left. A piece of her heart forever missing.

Rating: Mature (mostly for language)

A/N: Guy, I suck so hard core. I don't even know how I let so much time lapse between chapter 2 and now, and then to really top off my suck-o-meter, I realized that there's going to have to be a chapter 4 because I can't fix what I've done so easily. Not realistically at least. I promise, and happy ending is coming though, and it won't take me another 8 months to get it up. I hope to have it up and finished by the weekend.

The AO3 version

It’s been a hell of a night. She’s not sure where exactly it falls on her list of worst days ever, but it’s in her top five. It has to be. It’s not the worst, that honor is saved for the night she almost lost Killian, but it’s still up there. She’s spent hours now going through all of the details over and over again with Graham and Lance, her story never changing. Getting poked and prodded by EMTs, despite telling everyone that she’s fine.

She’s not, but they can’t stitch up her insides.

David, her partner, on the other hand has a bullet hole in his leg. Better than his head though.

She’s not even sure if she can fully reconcile everything that happened. She and David were investigating the death of a low profile importer, a nobody, interviewing some dock workers that had found the body. Some gruff looking men who easily blended in with the usual fishmongers and cargo sorters.

But they weren’t. She realized it just a second too late, right before a bag was pulled over her head. She fought like hell, but she was at a disadvantage. From what she heard, David had put up a fight as well, but in the end, it was useless, and she lost consciousness with a sharp blow to the head.

She woke up strapped down to a chair with David the same a few feet beside her. She shouldn’t have been surprised, Jefferson had always given her a bad feeling, but she never actually thought he’d go dirty. She certainly never expected to be facing the wrong side of his department issued sidearm.

Even now, everything is still a blur. Graham assured her it’s the shock, that it’ll fade once the adrenaline wears off; that everything will clear up after a good night's rest. She’s not sure about that though. It’s four in the morning now and the adrenaline seems to be hanging on for dear life still and she knows she's not going to rest any time soon. Humbert offered to drive her home but she declined, choosing to wait for August to finish wrapping up his report.

She’s not sure what time it is when they finally arrive at her apartment. The battery in her cell phone died ages ago. Neither of them even make a move for the fridge, choosing to bypass the beer she keeps stocked for the hard nights. Instead, the two of them move in silence to her room. She plugs in her cell before crawling in bed next to him, like when they were kids in Ingrid’s foster house. She’s not sure who’s comforting who at this point, but she knows that she just needs to be with family.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t, but she knows she needs to or it’ll eat her alive. She’s tried that once already and it ended up with her almost having a complete nervous breakdown and a three week leave of absence with daily Archie sessions.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

It’s true. So much has happened in the last twelve hours, there’s no one easy to pinpoint place to begin. So August goes first. He fills in the blanks that he can, so that she might be able to piece together the rest. He tells her about Killian sending him undercover, about Jefferson and missing drugs and money. How Jefferson was helping to conceal evidence that would link Walsh and the Nikko empire to a wide distribution of pixie dust.

Some of it is just speculation, that Jefferson must have figured out they were closing in on him and that’s why he went for Emma, and David was probably just collateral damage. How he most likely picked Emma because he knew how much she meant to him , and while he didn’t say Killian’s name specifically, the implication hung over her like a heavy cloud.

“Before you got there, he told Killian to choose. Between me and David I mean. To pick which one of us would live and which one would die. And then he just started laughing and screaming in this crazed voice that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget.”

It was the single most terrifying thing she’d ever heard. The mania that accompanied it. She already knew that it was going to haunt her for months to come, if not longer.

It’s a real Gracie’s choice. Gracie’s choice Killian. GRACIE’s CHOICE!!!

She felt August shift next to her.

“Gracie was his daughter. She died while he was undercover with a Southie Gang. Killian was undercover with Cruella at the time. It was a freak accident, a gas leak and the house went up in flames, but he was convinced that she was killed by one of the De Vil boys. He told me once that he knew Killian had given him up as a snitch to prove his worth. The De Vil’s had nothing to do with the Southie boys, but he’d twisted it up in his mind. I never thought he’d do anything about it though. It was just crazy drunk venting one night.”

She knows August. Knows that he’s blaming himself for what happened tonight, but she ignores it. Nothing she says will stop him from tormenting himself, and she’s not done.

“I told him to choose David. He has this whole perfect life, you know. An adoring wife and a new baby, all of these people that would miss him if he were gone. I told Killian to save David, and I-” She hates how small she feels when she cries, but she can’t hold back the tears. “He gave me this look. He’s been cold, but this was something different. There was just so much anger in his eyes.”

And that’s when she breaks. Knowing that hated her was one thing, but watching him train his gun on her. Seeing the pure darkness in his eyes. She doesn’t know how to voice it to August, but she knows that if August hadn’t arrived when he did, she knows he would have done as she asked. That he wouldn’t have had to think twice about it. And it’s that knowledge that sliced open the last piece of her heart that had been hanging on by a thread, even after all that time.

August holds her through the tears, until she finally exhausts herself enough to sleep. And so she drifts off, completely unaware of the new voicemail alert waiting for her.

________________________________

The February air is cooler on the water and he kicks himself for not bringing a heavier jacket. It’s been ages since he’s been out on this boat, and time has helped him to forget everything except for the things he wishes he could. Liam always used to tease him, so much so that Killian would reject any offers of warmth from his brother just to prove a point. He wasn’t some silly kid that needed to be minded anymore. He was capable of doing everything on his own, except for bringing an extra coat. He forgot everytime, and today was no exception.

Luckily for Killian, the spare that Liam kept on the boat just for him is still in its place, folded neatly in a small storage locker below deck. It hits him in the gut a little, that Liam could be so right about some things and incredibly wrong about others.

It’s eating Killian alive, not talking to his brother. Not being able to express himself because despite everything Emma has done for him, Liam still doesn’t approve of her. Liam often still thinks of him as the teenage boy, awkward and desperate for approval from anyone that will give it to him, even if it means getting taken advantage of.

He’s not that kid anymore though. He isn’t letting his crush steal his essays and letting her claim this as her own. He isn’t using all of his hard earned money to buy her jewelry that she’s just going to pawn for cash later. He isn’t following after Emma like a lost puppy dog.

He’s in love with her, and he has a sneaking suspicion that she feels the same way. But at this rate, he’s never going to get Liam’s blessing, the only approval he needs anymore.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this now. He really shouldn’t. Not when he and Liam are sitting in a rented dilapidated loft across from an abandoned fabric warehouse waiting for the Canal Street Cutter to emerge. There had been a lot of chatter that morning about where he might be hiding and Liam assembled teams throughout South Boston hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

Emma and August were stationed about eight blocks over. Lance and Arthur were on the edge of South Boston and Waterfront. Other teams were scattered, but too far away to get to if they needed assistance.

Killian had tried to tell Liam that it was a bad idea to spread everyone so thin, but the elder Jones brother had been instant and headstrong as ever. It would have been a career making arrest, and Liam, ever aspiring to be more just wouldn’t let that chance pass him by.

“I just think that you have other obligations that require your attention right now.”

“If this is the bros before hoes speech you can just save it.”

“Killian,” The exasperation evident in his brother's tone, “you know I detest such vile language. It's crude and you are better than that little brother.”

“What obligations?” He has to quash his desire to correct his brother’s description of him.

“I just think that you are meant for so much more in this life and I worry that you gave up so much when you left the narcotics division to follow her into homicide. You were a rising star there and now you’re having to cut your teeth all over again.”

“It’s not as if I’m starting all over. For God’s sake Liam, I just made Lieutenant. But there’s more to life than a job.”

His brother takes his gaze away from the binoculars to turn to Killian.

“Look at father and all of his vices. It strayed him from the path. But you, Killian, you persevered and now everything you've wanted is in your grasp.”

“This isn't the same thing and you know it. Emma isn't some pathetic man’s addiction. Liam, I'm in love with her.”

“Killian,” Liam pauses, taking a deep breath. “She's a distraction. Think of all that you’ve accomplished in the year that you were undercover. You brought down an entire crime syndicate. You did that without her taking your attention away.”

“I didn't bring the De Vil family down because ‘we’ were apart. I did it because we were ‘apart’ and I knew the only way I'd be able to see her again without putting her in harm's way would be to find the evidence and make the arrest.”

“Fine, if you need another reason, have you thought about working directly with her, or even over her in a supervisory position? Have you considered how your personal relationship with a subordinate could affect your judgment?”

“It’s not-”

Liams sees movement in the distance, cutting off Killian’s rebuttal, but his view is obscured so he motions for Killian to follow him, to leave the safety of their little room. They stay silent as they walk downstairs and head out a propped-open door leading to an alleyway. They had to wind through hallways to get from the loft outside and now they’re further away from the warehouse with no cover.

Killian even tries pointing out how visible they are, but Liam shuts him down, determined to close the case. He’s halfway sure that Liam’s trying to prove a point about how Killian can’t be successful and be in a relationship with Emma. He’s seen it before, the way professional jealousy destroys couples. But Emma’s not like that. She wouldn’t see his success as her failure.

They try to skirt the perimeter and he knows he should keep his mouth shut, this just isn’t the time, but he’s just so frustrated that he can’t keep holding it in.

“Please don’t make me choose between you.” It’s an angry whisper, more to himself than anything, and even though he did his best to keep his volume low it’s still enough that Liam’s heard and turns back to him, missing sight of the empty beer bottle at his feet.

The glass battering against the gravel echoes through the night as they both stay silent, waiting to see if they’ve been heard. The air is still around them, and Killian thinks they just might have lucked out.

And then he hears the gunshots ring out.

Liam is on the ground before Killian has time to register what’s happened. He runs to Liam, but gets knocked to the ground before he can get to him. His body hurts and he can see blood covering his hand from where he just touched his abdomen. He’s always heard people say that the shock blocks out the pain, but they must all be liars, because the longer he lays there, the more the pain intensifies.

It takes everything he has to pull himself behind a dumpster, half crawling, half slithering like a snake.

The shock eventually did kick in though, because even to this day he has no memory of radioing in for help. Just the vague memories of Emma leaning over him. The look in her eyes as she tried her best to hold back tears.

The same tears he fought back the night he left Boston, like the coward he was. But Archie was right. He needed to get his head on straight, to distance and center himself. He had to leave, for her.

He’s still wrestling with the guilt. He talked about it with Archie, how she begged him to kill her and save David. And that he actually considered it for about two full seconds. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t want her feeling the way he did. The burden of knowing that someone else was dead, and knowing that no matter how good you are, how hard you try, that you’ll never live up to them. He didn’t want her hating herself the way he did. Didn’t want her to destroy herself like he had.

But then something snapped inside of him and rage bubbled up. The audacity of her to beg him to kill her. For her to try and force that decision on him, with no regard to him or his feelings.

It was at that moment that he finally realized what he’d been doing to her ever since Liam had passed away. He finally understood the choice she’d been forced to make that night. And he knew - he knew that despite it all - he could never live with himself if he’d chosen anyone but her. That he couldn’t let her go just like she didn’t with him.

The only thing that saved him was Boothe. In the moments that passed after August arrived, while the two of them tried to wrestle the gun away from Jefferson, he felt the weight of Liam’s death wash over him. And then he heard a shot ring out and there was nothing but panic. Panic and guilt.

It felt as though ages had passed as he searched for Emma in the smoke filled room. The SWAT team had moved in at some point, but he’d been too focused on fighting off Jefferson to notice. He pushed through the sting in his eyes and the tightness of his chest as he looked for her, but all he saw through the haze were armored cops everywhere.

It wasn’t until he was forcibly escorted outside the building that he saw her, saw that she was safe, and then his stomach turned. He ran around a corner away from all of the prying eyes, and for the first time in his career, he gave in and let the night overcome him.

It’s been nearly a year since that night and he’s been running ever since. Some days are better than others. The anger is mostly behind him, but some nights he still wakes up in a sweat clutching his bed sheets, ready to fight. But there’s never anyone around to take a swing at, because he’s all alone. He’s pushed away anyone that ever mattered and isolated himself on that damn boat.

He thinks of Emma, wonders if she’s moved on or not. He’s too cowardly to call her, partly because he has no idea what he will say if she answers, but mostly because he’s terrified that she won’t answer. So he broods. He takes to the local bars as he sails the coastline and drinks a little too much before stumbling back to Liam’s boat alone. It’s a wonder nobody’s robbed him yet for what a careless sot he’s been.

Tonight is one of those nights. He’s made his way down to Florida and back, only a few hours away from Boston, and his demons are screaming again. He’s hoping against all hope that the rum in the tumbler across from him will help quiet them. Just holding the small glass in his fingertips helps a bit. A placebo of sorts. He doesn’t want to be this man anymore though. This pathetic lonely human. He doesn’t want to feel this way anymore, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. Archie said that him realizing it was a good first step but he’s not sure if he agrees. He’s called Archie a lot over the last year. Somehow doing therapy over the phone as the boat sways back and forth under his feet has helped to ease his hesitancy. There’s something about knowing that he can hang up at any time if he wants, and that no one knows. No one will judge him.

They don’t talk about Emma, not in present tense at least. They’ve had conversations about the way he’s treated her in the past, about his complicated feelings for her, the way it’s all shaped him, but they never talk about her now. He’s not sure if it’s because Archie doesn’t know if he’s ready for that, or if Archie knows something that he’s absolutely not ready for.

Archie is here tonight though, the rum is.

He’s still twirling the amber in his hand as he hears the familiar scraping of a nearby barstool against a wooden floor. There’s a scent that follows, a floral perfume that doesn’t match with the musk of the dive bar. He doesn’t look at her directly, doesn’t need to when he can see her from the mirror behind the bar. Her top is low, flashing more skin that it’s covering. She’s closer than he thought.

“Is that for me?” She’s bold.

He’s reminded of those early days on the force, when he wouldn’t even have to talk to a woman. When he could just flash her a smile and she’d be on his arm heading out the door to her place. He’s not that guy though, he’s salty and cynical, and the look he flashes her is closer to a smirk.

“Excuse me?” “Well, you’ve been toying with it for almost twenty minutes. I just thought maybe you were waiting for me to walk into your life.”

Was he this bad at picking up women?

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m not in the mood for woman.” “So you’re gay?”

It’s a good thing he hasn’t started drinking yet because he damn well might have chocked otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond though. The bubbly blonde that served him his rum has returned with a spray bottle in hand. “Mary of Mothers. Didn’t I already have you escorted out of here tonight, Teresa?”

“Bite me, Tinkerbelle.”

The girl behind the bar might be all of five foot tall but there’s a beast inside her that towers over any man in that bar and before he knows what’s happening the bartender is drowning the girl in what smells like stainless steel cleaner and the words coming out of her mouth would make any Navy man blush.

The girl ends up running away and Killian isn’t sure what to make of any of it. He’s broken up bar fights before, but he’s never seen anything quite like that.

“Sorry about that. I know this little bar might not seem like much, but it’s all I’ve got and I’ll be damned if I let the likes of her selling her body in here.” “Oh, she wasn’t-” “Trust me, where you had agreed upfront or not, you would have been light whatever cash you have left in that wallet before the night was up. And I’ll bet you dollars to pennies you would have had a lovely little itch or two down there.” She nods her head towards his crotch before switching the subject like she hadn’t just implied the poor woman from before was an STD ridden whore. “So, I haven’t seen you here before. Where you from?”

He’s not sure how she’s disarmed him so quickly, but he finds himself telling her all about himself over the next hour. Business has slowed down and her other barmate seems to be more than capable of handling the few strays still walking in.

She makes him laugh too with her feisty spirit. It’s been far too long since he’s felt at ease like this. They talk and talk. Not about much in particular, just random conversation. She bought the bar about six years ago, and tells him about how it’s let her build the family she always wanted and never really got. She’s carved out her own little place in the world and he envies her that. The way she can just lay her whole life bare to a complete stranger while he can’t even talk to the people that know him best.

The night rolls on and it’s time to close up. He half expects that she’s going to invite him upstairs, to the little apartment she mentioned earlier, but she surprises him. She’s done that a few times tonight, but this one hits him in the gut. “So, what’s her name?”

This time he actually does chock on the water she’s poured for him.” “I’m sorry, what?”

“Killian, in the last few hours, you’ve told me your entire life story, everything from your shitty father to your arrogant brother, your job, your leave of absence, but you haven’t mentioned a girl one single time. You’re holding back, which means there’s something to hold back.”

“You don’t know that. I could be gay.” “Um, ya, I saw you check out Teresa’s rack earlier, definitely not gay. So what’s the deal.” He doesn’t want to talk about it, but he doesn’t want to be rude either. So he gives her as little as possible, but she sees through him. In fact, she actually asks him what the hell he’s waiting for as she pushes him out the door.

He doesn’t really know what he’s waiting for to be honest. He’s wanted to go back to Boston, but there’s just so many threads he left unravelled when he left.

#These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal #Captain Swan #captain swan ff #CS fanfics

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kimistorm · 3 years ago

Text

My Heart Gone Missing [Chapter 6]

Fandom: Studio Ghibli (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Pairing: Friendship! Howl x GN! Reader

Warnings: Marius is unsupportive and angsty as usual~

Masterlist

You were back outside in the waste next to the lake where the hole extravaganza had started. “Years of training at the academy.” You angrily grumbled, “and for what? Nothing!” you turned to the blank expanse of the land and shouted, “what even am I supposed to do! What do you want from me!” there was no reply except for the wind that swallowed up your words.

There was silence and then the hum of a plane made itself known. “What?” you murmured to yourself. Planes weren’t a common occurrence. And this plane had an ugly loud roar. You squinted up into the sky and looked at the plane. It didn’t look like a leisure plane that insanely rich people would use. You frowned and tried to think about it, then it hit you. It was a fighter plane. Your eyes widened in surprise and you found yourself taking small steps backwards towards your home. These planes rarely come out, and typically the emergence of these planes means war.

“Marius!” you screeched and ran back towards your home, “Marius!” you slammed open the door and the water demon choked and spluttered on something from your sudden appearance.

“What is it now (y/n)?” Marius asked in annoyance, “you want to use my power for some crazy grand scheme? Or maybe,” his voice perked up, “you’ve realized how futile everything is and are ready to call off this deal!”

“No no, it’s not that.” You shook your head and closed the door behind you, “it’s war.” The magnitude of the word seemed to settle on your shoulders and you shouted, “war! It’s war Marius! There is going to be a war.”

Marius snorted, “right. And how would you know that?”

“Fighter plane.” You pointed straight up as if you were pointing towards the sky through the ceiling of the house, “there was a fighter plane up there. They don’t come out, unless we’re on the brink of war.”

“Humans.” Marius scoffed, “always fighting over petty things.”

“I need to find that spell.” You declared urgently to Marius, “do you know something, anything, that could be of use?”

Marius rolled his eyes, for a ball of water he was sassy, “I’m not a wizard, and even if I was. I wouldn’t tell you. You’re-”

“Awful, I know.” You interrupted the sassball, “thanks.” You leaned over the book again and flipped to the back. “There was an index this entire time?” you screeched and resisted the urge to flip the table. “Invisibility, invisibility.” You muttered under your breath and used your finger to help you keep track of where you were looking. “There.” You quickly flipped to the page where the spell was written and read it over.

“Okay.” You breathed after a moment of silence, “okay.”

“You broken over there?” Marius voice called.

You walked over to one of the shelves and grabbed a piece of chalk from the tin of chalk you kept. You shoved aside chairs and tables to make a small clearing in the center of the room.

“You’re going to do the spell in here?” Marius asked, “you’ll blow the entire place up!” he shouted.

“I’ll have you know I did go to the Academy.” You turned to his bowl and spun the white chalk in your fingers, “and I graduated.” You grabbed the book and squatted down to draw the image, “top marks too.”

Marius snorted, “really?” he asked.

“Yes, really.” You answered politely as you swirled the chalk around to make the surprisingly simple image. It was a circle, with multiple circles and triangles placed in what seemed to be in random places. “There.” You placed the chalk down on a table and clapped your hands together to get off the dust. You stepped into the center of the circle and held the book in your arms. You took a deep breath and read aloud the incantation from the book. The moment you were done, you tossed the book onto the floor outside of the circle and did a few hand signals before slamming your hands onto the circle.

Immediately, a beam of white light emerged from the drawn image and encompassed your body. You closed your eyes and let the magic do its thing. In the background, you faintly recognized that Marius was screeching.

The light slowly died out and you opened your eyes to see that the house was still intact. Much to Marius’ chagrin.

“They almost killed us.” Marius grumbled.

You looked up to the ceiling to make sure that the light hadn’t affected it and it looked fine. “What are you talking about?” you asked Marius in confusion, “who’s they?”

Marius jumped and let out a startled yelp, “I thought you teleported somewhere!” he crossed his arms and any inkling of concern was immediately washed away, “and here I thought I had the place to myself.”

“You will.” You jumped up and checked the mirror. Sure enough, the spell had worked and you were completely invisible, “don’t burn down the house while I’m gone!” you shouted and tore open the portal to the town.

You stepped out into the sunlight and made your way down to Jenkin’s shop. As it turns out, walking while invisible is extremely difficult. You had to make sure that you didn’t step on any toes, or run into any people, since they obviously couldn’t see you. Luckily, the shop wasn’t too far from where your portal spat you out.

When you found the building, you sat down next to the door to wait for someone to go in. As much as Marius would argue that you didn’t have any common sense, you did, and a door opening on its own is not something normal.

Minutes, hours passed and while the street was bustling with people, nobody wanted to go into the building. You twisted around from your uncomfortable spot on the ground to read the sign. Yup, it clearly showed ‘The Great Wizard Jenkins’. You sighed and rested your head on your hand.

The sun was beginning to set and you felt your stomach growl from hunger. You stood up and stretched your stiff limbs from sitting in the same place for so long. It was clear nobody was coming. You patted yourself down to get rid of any dirt that was clinging onto your clothes and began to move to find some food. However, you were stopped from going anywhere when you noticed somebody turning towards the building. You felt excitement leap in your chest. This was it.

The person briskly walked to the door and knocked.

“Hello.” The same kid as before opened the door.

“Hello, is it possible for me to find a gift here?” the person inquired.

“What sort of gift are you looking for?” the kid asked in his fake old man voice.

“Something unique, mind if I come in to search for something?” the man decided. You let out a silent cheer. Once the person went into the building, you’d slip in behind them and bam. You’d be in.

“I don’t really have a store.” The kid denied access and just as quickly as hope had risen, it fell. “You make an order, and then I deliver the order.”

The man’s shoulder sagged forwards, “ah, I see. My apologies for disturbing you Mr. Jenkins.”

You felt your own shoulders sag along with the man’s. There was no way you could get the spell now. Then an idea struck.

“Is there anything in particular that you were looking for? Perhaps I could help.” The kid probed.

“No, no. I was just waiting for inspiration to strike.” The man shook his head, “thank you for your kindness though.” He turned around and began to walk back to the busy street.

Quickly you summoned up some magic and caused the entire street to get caught up in a sudden windstorm. Everything went flying. Papers. Food. Hats. Anything and everything. Amidst the confusion you burst past the man and the kid at the door into the shop. You kept up the wind for a little longer. Enough to cause papers to fly into the doorway to distract the kid, and let the wind stop.

“That was rather sudden.” You heard the man laugh and you made your way around the interior in search for the spell. Aligning with what the kid had said, the inside didn’t look like a store at all. In fact, it looked like any normal house. You glanced back at the entrance and noticed a wheel with four colors. You deduced that they must’ve been portals.

The door shut behind you and the kid’s mop of gray hair transformed into significantly shorter red hair, “what was up with that sudden gust of wind?” he murmured.

“Now, this is just hypothetical,” you jumped when the fire beside you started to talk and you knocked over a book. Luckily you were able to catch it before it made a loud sound and neither the kid nor the fire seemed to notice. “But that could’ve been from magic.”

“Magic?” the kid echoed, “I didn’t see Mr. Howl out there.” Howl? You put a hand up to your mouth to conceal the gasp, could this be Howl’s house? It didn’t seem too far-fetched because there were the four portals, and it could be a similar situation as to the one that your own house was in.

“There’s more than one wizard out there.” The fire clicked its tongue.

You looked between the fire and the kid. You came to the realization that there were a couple flaws in your plan. First, how were you supposed to get the spell with people in the house? Add that to the fact you weren’t sure where to find it, and that results in a precarious situation. Second, how were you going to get out undetected? You wanted to slap yourself, perhaps Marius wasn’t completely wrong.

The kid pondered over what the fire had said, “that’s true.” He agreed, “oh well.” He shrugged and continued on his business.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” the fire looked up at the kid, “you don’t get the creeping feeling that there’s a wizard in here?”

“How would they get in?” the kid asked, “we’d have seen them.” He said and jumped up to sit on the ragged couch.

“Invisibility spells, seriously Markl, do you not know magic?”

You were still frozen in your place. The fire demon was on to you, and you hadn’t even started to look. You looked at the bookshelf and the table in front of it with papers strewn all over it. You figured that that was your best bet. There was also the wizard’s room, but you couldn’t risk climbing the stairs. You and Howl might’ve been best friends before, but there was no guarantee that he’d remember you. Or that this was Howl’s house.

The door burst open and another person entered the building. It was a blond man with bright blue eyes. You slapped your hands over your mouth to keep from gasping audibly. It was Howl. You weighed your chances of getting the spell from him, but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t recognize you. You had changed a lot since the last time you saw him. It was too risky.

“Wait, who are you, and what are you doing here?” the kid demanded and looked straight at you.

Taglist: @pogpixelz

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